‘You confessed to bombing the plane. Let’s start with that.’

‘I confess to be free from Romeo. Mr Bull said I be protected from Romeo if I am charged, and that I would be charged if I confess.’

‘You’re saying you confessed for your own protection?’

‘Yes.’

‘So you didn’t put the bomb on the plane?’

Mansour paused. Just for a moment.

‘What I say now? You won’t say it? You won’t tell?’

‘Not unless you instruct me that I should. Otherwise whatever you say, it does not leave this room.’

‘Then yes. I did it. I place the bomb on the plane.’

Michael sat back in his chair, confused. He glanced towards Duffy, who seemed less surprised by the answer. Michael realised then the solicitor had not told him everything.

Duffy did not miss a beat.

‘But did you know what you were putting on there?’

‘It was a bag,’ Mansour answered. ‘Luggage. And I knew it should not be on there. But I did not know it was dangerous. I did not know it was bomb.’

‘What did you think it was?’ Michael asked.

‘I thought drugs. I was told my job as baggage handler allow me to place bag in hold. I was told where in hold. I was not to open. I was not to ask question. I had to do just this one thing.’

‘And you were paid for this?’ Michael asked.

‘No,’ Mansour answered. His tone was suddenly outraged. ‘I would not do this for money. I am not a criminal. I came to this country to escape what happening in my country. I came to work. I do not break the law.’

‘But if you weren’t being paid . . .’ Michael began, ‘. . . if you weren’t doing this for money . . .’

Michael’s thoughts ran back to Mansour’s words.

‘I had to do just this one thing.’

They were not the words of a paid accomplice. No. They suggested something else.

‘Nizar, was someone threatening you?’

Mansour said nothing. He did not have to. The colour drained from his face at the question, telling Michael all he needed to know.

‘Was this about your brother?’ Duffy asked. ‘Did you do this to protect your brother, Nizar?’

Mansour did not reply. Tears began to fill his eyes.

‘It was your brother who died, though, Nizar.’ Michael had abandoned his promise to keep the questions uncontroversial. ‘That’s right, isn’t it?’

Mansour gave a small nod in response.

‘Then I’m sorry I have to ask, but how was he involved in all this?’

‘He was not involved,’ Mansour managed, his voice breaking. ‘He knew . . . he knew nothing. He . . . he was my brother. I keep him out. I keep him . . . safe.’

Emotion broke Mansour’s voice as he spoke. It made his heavy Syrian accent difficult to understand. But to Michael, the underlying message was clear.

‘Then who was being threatened, Nizar? If it wasn’t your brother, who did they threaten to make you do this?’