Donnelly spent almost half of those minutes shouting; making sure Thorne knew that whatever happened and however the situation ultimately resolved itself, he would make it a priority to have his balls for breakfast. Thorne stood and took the dressing-down, but could not resist pointing out that Donnelly would probably still be hungry afterwards. Then, he walked out of the school with Pascoe and Chivers in tow.
‘This is stupid,’ Thorne said. He slapped at the Kevlar vest Chivers had insisted on him wearing.
‘Doesn’t happen without it,’ Chivers said. ‘Simple as that.’
They crossed the road and walked towards the newsagent’s. ‘How’s he going to take a shot at me from behind those shutters?’
‘It’s not open for discussion.’
‘What do you think he’s got in there? A bazooka?’
As Thorne moved closer to the shop, he was aware of eyes on him. Those of Donnelly and the many others watching on the monitors; of the uniformed officers still manning cordons a hundred yards away either side of him and probably unsure of what was happening. He was most aware, most apprehensive, about the armed officers who had been swiftly briefed and instructed to take up firing positions behind appropriately placed vehicles. Thorne knew that eyes were not the only things being trained in his direction.
‘It’s them I’m scared of,’ Thorne said. He nodded back towards the helmets just visible above the bonnet of a Volvo. ‘Not him.’
‘Well, you’d better hope those shutters don’t start to open then,’ Chivers said. He seemed to be enjoying himself. ‘And just remember whose bright idea this was in the first place.’
There was not much Thorne could say. He looked at Pascoe, but she was walking with her head down. She had not spoken to him since the call had ended.
They stopped a few feet from the front of the shop.
‘Just talk,’ Chivers said. ‘That’s it. On no account suggest that you go inside or that he comes out, because if those shutters do go up and he’s got a gun in his hand, you’re in all sorts of trouble. Clear?’
‘Clear,’ Thorne said.
Finally, Pascoe spoke. ‘And if the conversation starts to move in a direction you’re not comfortable with, back away. I’ve been working hard to build up his trust and I really don’t want that compromised.’
‘I’m not trying to step on your toes,’ Thorne said.
‘I never suggested that you were.’
‘I just need him to know I’m doing what he wants and that I might actually be getting somewhere. He needs to trust me as well.’
‘Can we crack on?’ Chivers said.
Thorne stepped up and knocked on the shutters. There was a distant hum of traffic from the nearest main road, but suddenly everything went very quiet.
‘I’m here,’ Akhtar said.
It was strange, hearing the man’s voice at close quarters. It was muffled by the glass in the shop’s front door and Thorne had to lean in close to the sheet of ridged, spray-painted metal that separated them still further.
‘Thanks for doing this.’
‘Are you alone?’
Thorne saw little point in lying. ‘No. Sue Pascoe is with me and so is the head of the firearms unit. That’s just the way things have to be done, I’m afraid.’
‘I understand.’
‘But it’s just you and me talking, Javed, so… ’
‘What do you want to tell me?’
‘I wanted to tell you in person that I think you’re right,’ Thorne said. ‘I don’t believe that Amin took his own life. It would be easy enough for me to say that anyway, whatever I thought, because I know it’s what you want to hear, but I’m not just saying it. I need you to believe that, and to believe that I’m doing everything I can to find out who killed him. To get you the truth.’
There was a long pause, then Thorne heard Akhtar say, ‘Thank you.’
‘I’ve already talked to the authorities at Barndale and to Amin’s friends. I’ve spoken to the boys and the relatives of the boys who attacked him a year ago, and to Rahim Jaffer.’
‘Why are you talking to Rahim?’ Akhtar asked.
‘I’m talking to anyone I can think of.’
‘You think Rahim knows something?’
‘I think… he might know things about your son’s life that you didn’t, that’s all.’ Thorne was choosing his words carefully. ‘Sometimes we can talk to our friends about things we might not want to discuss with our parents.’
‘He talked to us about everything,’ Akhtar said.
‘I’m sure he did.’
‘There is nothing Amin could not come to us about.’
Thorne turned to see Pascoe and Chivers watching him. He could still feel the eyes on him and the telescopic sights of the sniper rifles. ‘Javed, I need to know that you’re ready to hear whatever I find out.’
‘I don’t understand what you’re saying to me.’
‘Listen, I know that you don’t want to hurt anyone, or hurt yourself, so I’m asking you to hang on. To be patient, and to be prepared if the facts about what happened to Amin are not very pleasant.’
‘My son was murdered,’ Akhtar said. ‘How could the facts be pleasant?’
‘They might not be easy to hear, that’s all.’
There was another long pause. Pascoe signalled to Thorne that he should step away. Mouthed: ‘That’s enough.’
Then Akhtar spoke, his voice a little louder suddenly, as if he too were leaning close to the shutters. ‘The lies we have been told about Amin, about what happened to him in that prison, have torn our hearts out, Mr Thorne. Mine and Nadira’s. They have sucked away my decency and turned me into the kind of man I despise. The kind of man who no longer has any respect for the law and would do something unspeakable like this.
‘Lies have done these things, do you understand? So how can I be afraid of the truth?’