them in your time. As far as I was concerned, he was a joke.’
Gilcrux shifts slightly in his chair. As he does so, a single bead of sweat emerges from his hairline and begins rolling down his temple. It is the first sign Vos has seen that his interrogator is not made out of wax.
‘Let’s go back to that day at the casino,’ he says. ‘Why were you there?’
‘We had a tip that Peel was taking delivery of a shipment of cocaine from his associates in London. But he had people who worked for him. We certainly weren’t expecting Peel to be there in person.’
‘What happened?’
‘We waited until we got the signal and then we went in.’
‘Signal from who?’
‘One of my squad was working undercover.’
‘I see. Go on.’
‘Peel saw us coming, started running.’
‘And you gave chase?’
‘That’s right.’
‘You personally?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘Because the other members of my team were otherwise engaged with Peel’s men. Because I didn’t want him to get away.’
‘And this pursuit ended up on the fire escape?’
‘Correct.’
‘And then?’
‘Peel continued to evade arrest,’ Vos says. ‘And then he fell.’
‘How?’
‘Because he was trying to jump between two buildings. Because he was fifty-five years old and should have known better than to think he was Spider-Man.’
‘Where were you when he fell?’
‘I was about twenty feet away at the door to the stairs.’
‘Was anything said between the two of you?’
‘I advised him to give himself up,’ Vos says. ‘In fact, I believe I told him not to be such a fucking idiot.’
‘Did he respond?’
‘No. He jumped.’
‘The family claim you pushed him off.’
‘How could they possibly know that?’
‘There are no other witnesses to corroborate your story?’
‘No. DS Entwistle, my undercover officer and one of the uniforms were otherwise engaged with Peel’s associates in the casino.’
‘And it was during this engagement that DS Entwistle was shot?’
‘That’s right. Have you been to see him?’
Gilcrux does not rise to the provocation. ‘And the other uniformed officer?’
‘WPC Lake was covering the perimeter of the building to block any escape from that side.’
‘You saw DS Entwistle get shot?’
‘The reason Vic got shot was because he was doing his job.’
‘But you saw it?’
‘I didn’t see it, no.’
‘You didn’t hear it? I find that hard to believe.’
‘The gun went off in the struggle. Maybe Vic’s body muffled the sound.’
‘You were aware of what had happened, though.’
‘Only afterwards.’
‘You were already in pursuit of Jack Peel.’
‘Yes.’
Gilcrux stares at him inscrutably. ‘How long have you known DS Entwistle?’
‘Twenty years. We came up through uniform together, joined CID at the same time.’
‘So you’d say you were good friends.’
‘Extremely good friends. I was his best man and I’m his daughter’s godfather.’
‘It must be very upsetting for you – the fact he’s in hospital.’
‘Yes,’ Vos says. ‘It is.’
‘I’m going to ask you again, Detective Chief Inspector Vos,’ Gilcrux says. ‘Were you aware that DS Entwistle had been shot before you set off in pursuit of Jack Peel?’
Vos stares at him. They have been in this room for over two hours now.
‘No,’ he says. ‘I was not.’
SEVEN
Two photographs of Ahmed Doe – one of his face, one of his testicles – have been distributed via Interpol to every national police force in Europe. Vos is in his office when the call comes through from the Korps Landelijk Politiediensten, the Dutch national police force known as the KLPD. A polite operator with impeccable English asks him to hold for a short time while she connects him to Chief Inspector Krelis Remmelink of the Amsterdam bureau of IPOL, the police intelligence service.
‘Vos,’ Remmelink says. ‘Is that a Dutch name?’
‘My great-grandfather was from Utrecht, apparently.’
‘Really? You
Gilcrux shifts slightly in his chair. As he does so, a single bead of sweat emerges from his hairline and begins rolling down his temple. It is the first sign Vos has seen that his interrogator is not made out of wax.
‘Let’s go back to that day at the casino,’ he says. ‘Why were you there?’
‘We had a tip that Peel was taking delivery of a shipment of cocaine from his associates in London. But he had people who worked for him. We certainly weren’t expecting Peel to be there in person.’
‘What happened?’
‘We waited until we got the signal and then we went in.’
‘Signal from who?’
‘One of my squad was working undercover.’
‘I see. Go on.’
‘Peel saw us coming, started running.’
‘And you gave chase?’
‘That’s right.’
‘You personally?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘Because the other members of my team were otherwise engaged with Peel’s men. Because I didn’t want him to get away.’
‘And this pursuit ended up on the fire escape?’
‘Correct.’
‘And then?’
‘Peel continued to evade arrest,’ Vos says. ‘And then he fell.’
‘How?’
‘Because he was trying to jump between two buildings. Because he was fifty-five years old and should have known better than to think he was Spider-Man.’
‘Where were you when he fell?’
‘I was about twenty feet away at the door to the stairs.’
‘Was anything said between the two of you?’
‘I advised him to give himself up,’ Vos says. ‘In fact, I believe I told him not to be such a fucking idiot.’
‘Did he respond?’
‘No. He jumped.’
‘The family claim you pushed him off.’
‘How could they possibly know that?’
‘There are no other witnesses to corroborate your story?’
‘No. DS Entwistle, my undercover officer and one of the uniforms were otherwise engaged with Peel’s associates in the casino.’
‘And it was during this engagement that DS Entwistle was shot?’
‘That’s right. Have you been to see him?’
Gilcrux does not rise to the provocation. ‘And the other uniformed officer?’
‘WPC Lake was covering the perimeter of the building to block any escape from that side.’
‘You saw DS Entwistle get shot?’
‘The reason Vic got shot was because he was doing his job.’
‘But you saw it?’
‘I didn’t see it, no.’
‘You didn’t hear it? I find that hard to believe.’
‘The gun went off in the struggle. Maybe Vic’s body muffled the sound.’
‘You were aware of what had happened, though.’
‘Only afterwards.’
‘You were already in pursuit of Jack Peel.’
‘Yes.’
Gilcrux stares at him inscrutably. ‘How long have you known DS Entwistle?’
‘Twenty years. We came up through uniform together, joined CID at the same time.’
‘So you’d say you were good friends.’
‘Extremely good friends. I was his best man and I’m his daughter’s godfather.’
‘It must be very upsetting for you – the fact he’s in hospital.’
‘Yes,’ Vos says. ‘It is.’
‘I’m going to ask you again, Detective Chief Inspector Vos,’ Gilcrux says. ‘Were you aware that DS Entwistle had been shot before you set off in pursuit of Jack Peel?’
Vos stares at him. They have been in this room for over two hours now.
‘No,’ he says. ‘I was not.’
SEVEN
Two photographs of Ahmed Doe – one of his face, one of his testicles – have been distributed via Interpol to every national police force in Europe. Vos is in his office when the call comes through from the Korps Landelijk Politiediensten, the Dutch national police force known as the KLPD. A polite operator with impeccable English asks him to hold for a short time while she connects him to Chief Inspector Krelis Remmelink of the Amsterdam bureau of IPOL, the police intelligence service.
‘Vos,’ Remmelink says. ‘Is that a Dutch name?’
‘My great-grandfather was from Utrecht, apparently.’
‘Really? You
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