Liz Carlyle - 06 - Rip Tide Read Online Free PDF Page B

will be next-door if you need me. Just tell the guard.’ She nodded. As Cassale left, she pulled out a chair from under the table and sat down opposite the prisoner. The armed policeman remained standing by the door.
    Liz looked calmly at Khan and said, ‘I don’t know about you, but my French stopped at GCSE.’
    His eyes widened at the sound of her English voice, then he sat stiffly upright and gave her a defiant look.
    Liz shrugged. ‘Amir, I haven’t come all this way to give you a hard time. But let’s not pretend: you speak English just as well as I do. Probably with a Birmingham accent.’
    Khan stared at her for a moment, as if making up his mind. The key now was to get him to say something – anything would do for a start. Liz had been taught this during initial training at MI5: a complete refusal to speak – even to say yes or no – was disastrous; there was no way forward from there. It reminded her of being taught to fish by her father. When she took too long setting up her rod, he would always say, ‘If your fly’s not on the water, you can’t catch a fish.’
    Fortunately Khan decided to speak, saying slowly, ‘Are you from the Embassy?’
    ‘Not exactly. But I am here to help.’
    ‘Then get me a lawyer.’
    ‘Well, perhaps we should first establish who you are. I take it that you are indeed the Amir Khan, of 57 Farndon Street, Birmingham, whose driving licence you were carrying when you were arrested by the French Navy?’
    ‘I said, I want a lawyer.’
    ‘Ah, if only it were that easy. We’re in France, Amir, not England. They do things differently here. You’ve heard the phrase “ Habeas corpus” ?’ She didn’t wait for him to nod. ‘Well, over here, they haven’t. You can be held on a magistrate’s word for as long as he likes. It could be months. Or longer, if you won’t co-operate.’
    Khan was gnawing his thumbnail. A good sign, thought Liz, who wanted him on edge. He said sharply, ‘So why should I talk to you?’
    ‘Because I may be able to help.’
    He scoffed, ‘How, if the French can hold me as long as they want?’
    ‘If we can get a few things sorted out, we might be able to arrange your transfer to the UK.’ She looked around at the room. ‘I think you’d agree things would be better for you there. But that would depend on your co-operating, of course.’
    ‘With what?’
    She put the battered driving licence on the table. ‘Is this yours? Are you Amir Khan?’
    He nodded. ‘You know I am.’
    ‘You were arrested with a group of pirates from Somalia, trying to hijack a ship in the Indian Ocean. Let’s talk about how you got there from Birmingham. And why you were helping to hijack a Greek cargo ship.’
    ‘I wasn’t,’ he said flatly. Seeing surprise in Liz’s eyes, he said, ‘They forced me to go along.’
    ‘Who did?’
    ‘The pirates. I don’t know their names . . . I couldn’t understand a word they said. It was some African dialect.’
    ‘They weren’t African.’
    He ignored her. ‘They told me to get in their boat, and I didn’t argue. I was sure they were going to kill me.’
    ‘Why did they take you along?’
    ‘You’d have to ask them.’ His tone was surly.
    ‘Why don’t we take a step back? Tell me how you ended up in Somalia in the first place.’
    ‘I thought we were heading for Kenya.’
    ‘Who’s “we”?’ She knew it was important to cut off these tangents right away, or they’d sprout like suckers at the base of a tree. Soon there’d be so many of them she wouldn’t be able to see the tree, much less the forest.
    ‘A friend. I met him in London.’
    ‘What’s your friend’s name?’
    ‘We called him Sammy, but I think his name was Samir.’
    ‘Samir what?’
    He shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
    ‘When did you meet him in London?’ Seeing as you’re from Birmingham, she thought.
    ‘Last year, or maybe two years ago. I have a cousin who moved down there and I used to visit him. He has a newsagent’s in