‘Please, Mr Carr,’ said the policeman, holding up a hand. ‘I told my officers to stay with her, and to tell her that both you and your son are fine, and are helping us.’

Carr sat back in his chair.

‘One hour,’ he said. ‘Then I have to go.’

‘I understand.’ De Padilla picked up a pen. ‘So, I would like to take a statement. Is this okay?’

‘Sure.’

‘Do you want a lawyer?’

‘Do I need one?’

‘As I say, you’re not a suspect. We have broadly the same laws of self-defence as in the UK.’ He smiled. ‘To me, the only question is which of our civilian gallantry awards you and your son will receive.’

Carr thought for a moment. ‘What about the two police officers and their pistols?’

The officer shrugged. ‘You did what you had to do. I am more concerned that you don’t tell people that our guys were running away. They’ll finish their careers in a small town somewhere far away, believe me.’

‘My lips are sealed.’

‘Sorry?’

‘I won’t tell anyone.’

‘Okay,’ said de Padilla. ‘So, I really want to see if you can help us identify any members of the gang.’

‘Sounds like a plan,’ said Carr.

‘So, we start from the beginning. You went to the beach with your son and the two ladies at what time?’

‘Before we get into that,’ said Carr. ‘I think I saw one of them.’

‘One of the terrorists?’ said de Padilla. ‘I don’t understand.’

Carr sipped his tea.

It was hot and weak.

‘You know my background,’ he said. ‘I’ve done a lot of surveillance work. There was a guy on the beach. Dark hair, dark eyes, white clothing. Carrying flip-flops in his hand. He was trying to act like a normal tourist – playing the grey man, we call it – but he didn’t quite pull it off. There was a group of young Brits, including four girls. Twenties, good-looking. One in a shocking pink bikini, one in a black bikini. A couple of others. I just thought he was scoping them out. I didn’t blame him, to be fair. But given that the girls he was looking at were later taken away… He obviously had other things on his mind.’

‘Did he see you?’

‘No. He was so busy trying to disassociate himself from his target that he forgot about third-party. Most basic mistake in surveillance.’

‘What’s third party?’

‘Me. The watcher watching the watcher. He thought it was just him, the target, and a bunch of random civilians. But I’m a paranoid motherfucker, and he stood right in front of me, so I paid attention. He stuck in my mind. He had a big chunk out of his right calf – probably a round, or a bit of shrapnel. It gave him a weird, rolling gait.’ Carr finished off his tea. ‘That’s another mistake. Should have given that job to someone less distinctive.’

‘Would you recognise him again?’ said de Padilla.