A ray of sunshine sneaking through a gap in the curtains awoke her. She half opened her eyes and became a little disorientated. The window was not where it should be, nor the TV. She felt a weight on her chest. She looked down and took in a sharp intake of breath. A brown arm lay across her naked breasts!
'What in heaven's name have I done? She thought to herself 'Should I move his arm and get dressed?' A quiet sigh escaped her lips as she remembered the night before.
* * *
She and Ahmed stood on the pavement outside the office and he had asked her if she fancied going for their agreed dinner date a little early. Although she had looked curiously at him she had not needed any persuading. They ummed and ahhed about where to go. In the end he had recommended the restaurant at the Maids Head. When she quibbled the choice he asked if the restaurant at her hotel was superior. That simple question quelled her 'pretend' doubts.
An hour later found them seated in the hotel's restaurant. She commented on the stone floor and was informed that the restaurant had originally been the stables and the courtyard. As long as they didn't serve meals in a bag she didn't mind what the place had been.
When the menu came she commented on the variety of food. His response, a big grin that said 'I told you so'. She chose the duck confit and he chose the steak and chips. She took the mickey out of him for not choosing the curry. He said that his mother made the greatest ever curry. He had always been left disappointed with the curries in every restaurant he had been to. That included Indian restaurants; most of which he informed her were actually Bangladeshi! So now he never ordered them in restaurants.
He asked her if she would like wine and if so she better look at the 'Wine List'. She chose Pinot Noir and asked him whether he liked it too. He responded that he did not drink alcohol. On being asked whether that was to do with his religion he answered in the negative. He elaborated by revealing that his father, a devout Muslim in all other respects, had been an alcoholic. The pain and suffering his father's affliction had caused him and his mother made the young Ahmed vow never to touch the stuff.
A slight tension existed between the two of them: a slight uncomfortableness. They both knew what it was but neither of them was prepared to articulate it.
Once the meal had arrived Flint decided to lessen the nervousness by steering the conversation to a neutral topic. She asked him what he thought of the case so far. He admitted it made him uncomfortable as it brought him into direct contact with the Asian/Muslim community...yes he had that in the smoke but it was more normal policing. Here he was looking in an accusatory way at everyone in the community...and that made him feel uncomfortable. Not only that but everyone here looked at him with hate in their eyes. They treated him as a traitor!
Before he could continue they were interrupted by a diner who peered at Ahmed and then commented 'You're the detective that was on the TV earlier today. I hope you catch the bastards responsible for those young kids dying in that fire!'
A murmur of approval went around the room.
Ahmed had replied that they were doing all they could. The man wished him all the best.
Flint commented that everyone seemed to have forgotten Gruberowa. Ahmed shared her opinion but commented that these things happen. News items are ephemeral. Once they have been superseded by something else they quickly move to the back of people's minds and then out of them as time passes. What counted was that they had not pushed her to the back of their minds. He asked her for her gut reaction with respect to the girl. She came back a little too strongly that Blunt didn't believe in gut reactions. He responded in like manner snapping that he wasn't asking Blunt he was asking her.
An awkward silence ensued before Ahmed broke the tension by apologising. He then asked about Blunt's view. She attempted to explain that he believed in something he called the falsifiability method. If everything else is disproved then what is left is what happened however improbable.
She noted Ahmed's sardonic look followed by asking why their boss kept on saying 'There is nothing to put Morski and Pidrik at the scene' She explained that you needed facts to test a theory to destruction. At the moment they didn't have enough facts to put them there or not to put them there.
Ahmed moved things on by asking what she thought of Leibnitz's boat idea. They kicked it around and one idea came to them. Everyone knew that a great many people were shipped into the country by truck. However, what if the Russians were also doing it by trawler. Everyone had become used to seeing their factory ships cum trawlers over the years. Norfolk had miles upon miles of isolated coastline. Wouldn't it be easy to drop people off from one of the many trawlers.
The tension had eased and Flinted rested her right elbow on the table and cradling her tilted head in her hand whilst gazing at him. Ahmed though was in full flow and quite animated. He expounded the theory that perhaps they had been looking in the wrong direction.
What if Morski and Pidrik had taken Gruberowa to say Great Yarmouth to a factory ship that had docked in the harbour. Yarmouth could be reached much quicker and easier than Overstrand. If that were the case then the time frame altered considerably. The two Russians would have time to spare.
She moved her elbow from the table and slowly stroked the rim of her glass whilst pointing out that in the that case Morski and Pidrik could not have drowned Gruberowa. He had to admit the validity of her point.
They both agreed that they needed to find whether a Russian trawler had been in the harbour on the Friday evening and if so where it had sailed to and when.
He asked her how she felt about the raid on the Accountant's office. She expressed the fear that something similar would happen as occurred in the Aktion case. She explained that somehow the Nazi bastards had found out, or worked out, that they were onto them. When they arrived at their vile body farm all the personnel and most of the papers had gone.
She stated that if they found anything the next day regarding properties and businesses this time they do not want to alert the Russians. They did not want to give them the opportunity to move everything out. They had to ensure the accountant didn't get a chance to ring anyone. They then had to move fast and get to the properties. She decided to mention it to Blunt so that they could have teams ready. They probably had a window that equated to the amount of time that they could hold the Accountant.
Ahmed agreed. He also added that in that case perhaps they better put off raiding The Attic. The more places they raided the more people would be there and the chances of something getting out would increase exponentially.
The waiter interrupted their conversation when he excused himself and asked if they would like to order dessert. They both ordered cheesecake to be followed by coffee.
Ahmed asked her if she could go back to traffic if Blunt's unit went tits up. She had said no. The breakdown of her marriage had made her independent in more ways than one. She felt a lot more adventurous. As a result she would leave the force and look for something in the in the usual police second career....security work.
He chanced his arm and asked whether she would ever get into another relationship. She became slightly twitchy then suddenly she bit her lip, and then licked her lips before saying that it all depended.
Whilst she played with her gold necklace she asked him what he would do if it went tits up. He replied that he would look to return to the met...although he would maybe look to sign on for a law degree. That would please his parents. She then asked him about relationships. One night stands mainly. His parents wanted to choose a bride for him but he gave that idea short thrift. The job made it difficult to form relationships. Yes he'd had one night stands but none of them were the sort of person that he'd want to let into his life.
They had decided that they were both a pair of sad cases. Somehow at some stage they had ended up in Ahmed's room and then in his shower and finally in his bed.
Some hours after falling asleep Flint was wakened by Saeed whimpering beside her. Furthermore, he had curled himself into a tight protective ball. She gently shook him awake and patiently waited for him to say something. All the while she gently held his hands. Eventually he spoke, very quietly and told her the story...
Many rumours had been circulating in the Asian community about the rising tide of extremism starting to engulf the younger members. Some put it down to the influence of the returnees from the Afghan war against the Russians others to the general alienation of Asian youth from British society. Whatever the reason it was a fact. He and other officers had also heard whispers that these extremists were looking to raise money by becoming involved in organised crime, or to be more correct, organising crime! He had enquired about joining the undercover unit, SO10. He thought that his background and intelligence would make him a natural.
He had been welcomed with open arms and given a two week crash induction course. He had been given an assumed identity with a ready made history, a passport and a flat in Leicester. A ready- made cousin also came along as part of the package. The cousin operated on the fringes of some of the extremist groups in the city. Saeed's task was to go to Bradford and to insinuate himself into a small group of Islamists who had access to weapons. They had all fought with the Mujahedeen in Afghanistan. The introductions to the group were being effected by another ex Mujahedeen who had been 'turned' by SO10. Ahmed had to get these guys to a location, where they could be filmed, in flagrante, handing over the weapons for cash.
It had all gone terribly wrong. Saeed had been rumbled. The Bradford gang kidnapped him on his way to the meet. They had bundled him into the back of a transit van. They had gagged him with a filthy rag, blindfolded him stripped him, and cuffed his hands behind his back. they had driven for about half an hour. He remembered the sharp stones cutting his feet as he was frog-marched to a building.
He had then been bundled down a flight of stairs and thrown him into a dark, dank and cold cellar. He lost track of time. He floated in and out of consciousness. Eventually, a sharp kick to his stomach brought him around. He realised that several men were in the cellar. They made fun of his shrivelled penis and his sniffling and whimpering. They removed his gag and kicked and punched his prostrate form delighting in his screams of pain. He had vomited and excreted. However, he had refused to give them anything other than his cover story. They had left him lying in pools of his own vomit, excreta and blood.
He believed that he had endured about three beatings. However, he had no idea of time scale. Then came the moment he had shuddered with dread. He had heard the sound of a chain being run through some metal fixing in the ceiling. His mind ran amok with all sorts of wild and morbid imaginings such as he was about to be hanged. He wet himself! His gaolers laughed and kicked him again. They then tied the chain to his ankles and hoisted him up off the floor. The sudden rush of blood to the head caused him to pass out. They brought him round by throwing a bucket of icy water into his face.
As he revealed more of the story he gripped Flint's hands and pulled her towards him in a tight hug.
When he came to his captors were laughing and joking. He could tell they were smoking as he could smell it and hear the inhalations and exhalations as they puffed on their cigarettes. One of them with a very English accent asked him who he was. He provided his assumed identity. Another with a deep guttural laugh slapped his rump and told him not to be stupid.
Each time he slipped out of consciousness they revived him with a bucket of cold water. He didn't know how long he lasted BUT then they started to get more serious. The well-spoken one informed Ahmed that they were beginning to get bored. He stated that his colleague Tariq could be a bit of an animal. He advised that if Ahmed did not start talking, and talking quickly, Tariq would detach one of his testicles.
As if to reinforce the point. A harsh voice whispered in his ear that he was going to detach one of his testicles with the knife that was gently stroking his upper thigh and drawing blood. He knew that blood had been drawn because he could feel it trickling into his groin.
Whilst the gentle stroking continued the other voice advised him that they would find his family and exact Allah's revenge on them for having such a relative. He had broken down and told them everything that they wanted to know.
Flint hugged him back as he began to sob. She wondered how he had got out of the situation. She did not have to wait long.
Once he had told them everything they stopped interrogating him. He waited for them to finish him off and emptied his bowels in dread of the final moment. Nothing happened! They let him down gently and took him into the warm and carpeted main house. They put him in a room and removed the cuffs and gently closed the door. He stood in shock for a few moments before tentatively removing his gag and blindfold.
He was in a pleasant bedroom with an en-suite bathroom. On the bed lay a selection of clothes for him to choose from. He was totally disorientated. A voice advised him to shower and to put on the clothes. He obeyed without thinking. A short while later there was a knock on the door. A young lady stood there with a tray containing food and a jug of water.
Half an hour later found him sat in an easy chair facing three men. They asked him how he felt he had performed in the test. He had lost his temper, partly out of embarrassment at succumbing in the cellar. The men had let his tantrum blow itself out. They had explained that the situation he had found himself in could very well happen, and indeed did happen. They had asked whether he thought he could go through with something similar again. He had been honest and they concurred with his view.
Flint also agreed and consoled him by saying that not many people would or could have withstood the torture he had been subjected to. They then hugged one another and fell back to sleep in each other's arms
* * *
No, she quite liked the intimacy of his arm across her chest. She lay there for a few moments, saw the time on the clock and poked Ahmed in the ribs.
'We have to get going. You have to ring Blunt so that we can put off the Attic and I need to get back to my hotel for a change of clothes'
The phone rang as they were getting dressed; Blunt. He informed Ahmed that the search warrants were ready and that Strumpshaw was in the process of arranging manpower. Ahmed had turned to Flint and put his digit finger to his closed lips.
Ahmed explained that a better idea involved just hitting the accountants. His boss accepted the logic and thanked him for his foresight. He nearly said that the idea had come from he and Flint mulling it over. Just in time he thought the better of it. It may have led to a number of awkward questions. And he couldn't be dealing with those right now.
Before ringing off Blunt mentioned that he had contacted Cushion and Leibnitz but could not get hold of Flint. The reception at her hotel said that her key was still there and had been all night.
Ahmed replied that perhaps she went back to London and was now on the way back. What did it matter as long as she was in the office at the same time as the rest of them. Blunt had seemed satisfied with that answer and agreed.