A Question of Identity Read Online Free PDF Page A

the door opened and two more men came in.
    ‘DCS Granger. Sit down, Keyes –’
    ‘Mr Keyes to you.’
    ‘Sit down,’ the Superintendent said, not looking at Keyes.
    The other man, who was tall and upright and had a thinmoustache, stood beside him. Said nothing. Did not give his name.
    ‘Now listen –’
    ‘I want to walk out of this fucking building, I have every right to walk out of –’
    ‘I said listen. There is no way I can let you walk out. No way. Why do you think you were cuffed and brought down here?’
    ‘I didn’t bloody touch him, I missed, I only swung at him, it wasn’t –’
    ‘It had nothing to do with you taking a swing at a police officer – we cuffed you and brought you down here and are keeping you in custody
for your own safety
.’
    ‘Piss off.’
    ‘Because if we’d let you strut out of that court you probably wouldn’t have made it a dozen yards down the corridor, you would have been set upon, battered to death – my guess is you would have lasted three minutes. You’ve got no idea, have you? There’s several hundred angry people out there, and there’d be more arriving if we hadn’t closed the road. You know why,
Mr
Keyes? That’s right, you can look terrified.’
    Keyes twisted his expression back into defiance.
    ‘I’d be terrified if I was in your shoes. You still want to walk out there? You’re not under arrest, as you say, and I’ve no power to stop you, but it’s my duty to advise you that you should remain under police protection.’
    ‘You’ll get rid of them, won’t you? Clear the street. Tear gas, water cannon, they’ll bugger off.’ Keyes smiled. ‘I’m an innocent man.’
    ‘Yes, Mr Keyes. Which won’t prevent the public forming its own judgement and acting accordingly. So I’m advising you to accept police protection . . .’
    ‘What’s that mean? You put me up in a nice hotel?’
    ‘We do not.’
    ‘I’m not going back inside that fu–’
    ‘Nor in prison custody. You’ll be taken to a place of safety and then we’ll discuss the choices you might have.’
    ‘What choices? I’m going back home, aren’t I? You can’t stop me, a man’s home is his castle, a man’s –’
    ‘Shut up, Keyes.’
    ‘What is this place of safety then? How long do I have to stay?’
    ‘As I said, you’re not under arrest. We are giving you advice for your own protection. You’re free to take it. Or not. I can’t tell you where you’d go but you would stay until such time as we decide you would be safe to leave. Or make other arrangements.’
    ‘What other arrangements?’
    ‘You’ll be given various options within the next few weeks.’
    ‘Weeks? I’m not staying away from my own home for weeks. You tell the wife where I’ll be, do you?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘She’ll wonder then. She’ll report me missing.’
    ‘We’ll deal with that. Right.’ The Super stood. ‘You’ll be collected in an hour or so.’
    ‘Now look –’
    ‘Don’t start again.’ the Super said. ‘I’m beginning to lose patience.’
    It was cold. Her leg was numb and her arm painful where it was bent back against the wall. But she knew where she was. After a moment she began to straighten her body cautiously, to sit up, stand.
    She never wore a watch. How long had she been – what? Unconscious? Asleep? Why would she be unconscious if she hadn’t hit her head? Or been hit?
    She hadn’t. No one had been in here, no one knew where she was. He didn’t. Couldn’t. The toilets were somewhere in the bowels of the building – she had glimpsed them as she ran down endless corridors, through sets of doors, to get away. Get away.
    She found the toilet, pulled the door to but didn’t lock it, then went to the basins and splashed her face with a handful of cold water. Pulled her hair out of its band and retied it.
    And then there was a clatter outside in the corridor, something metal, and the door opened.
    ‘It’s all right, I’m going, I’m going . . .’
    The cleaner put