First Response

TAVISTOCK SQUARE (4.44 p.m.)

Alistair McNeil, Silver Commander at Tavistock Square, agreed to allow Biddulph to sit in while he interviewed the three hostages who had been released from the bus. They were being kept in rooms on the second floor of the British Medical Association building. The woman, Christine Melby, was feeding her baby with a bottle while a female officer looked on. The two schoolboys were being cared for in an adjoining room.

McNeil went to see the woman first. He introduced himself and told her that Biddulph was a sergeant with the National Crime Squad.

‘Why can’t I go home?’ she asked.

‘You can, absolutely you can,’ said Inspector McNeil. ‘We’d just like to ask you a few questions first, if that’s okay?’

‘I’ve had one hell of a day,’ she said. ‘And my husband’s going to be wanting his tea.’

‘I’ve asked for a car to run you home,’ said McNeil. ‘In the meantime, how did he seem, the man with the bomb?’

She frowned, not understanding the question.

‘Was he tense?’ asked McNeil. ‘Did he seem preoccupied? Focused?’

‘He was angry. He kept shouting at us. Why don’t you just shoot him? He’s going to kill all the people on the bus if you don’t.’

‘We’re trying to resolve this so no one gets hurts, Mrs Melby.’

‘He’s a nutter,’ said the woman. ‘Threatening innocent people like that. You need to throw away the key.’

‘I’m sure they will do,’ said McNeil. ‘Did he say anything about ISIS?’

‘ISIS?’ she repeated.

‘The group the terrorists belong to. Did he talk about them? What they wanted? What they planned to do?’

‘He didn’t say much. Just kept saying that so long as we all did as we were told, no one would get hurt.’

‘Did he sound scared?’ asked Biddulph. ‘Or scary?’

The woman tilted her head to one side as she studied his face. ‘He was scared,’ she said eventually. ‘I think he was more scared than the woman he was handcuffed to.’

McNeil and Biddulph moved to the room next door where the two schoolboys were being given soft drinks and crisps by a female officer. The two boys seemed nervous and uncomfortable, which wasn’t surprising under the circumstances. Their names were Luke Young and Peter Okonkwo. Their parents had already been contacted and were on their way.

‘Are you two lads okay?’ asked McNeil.

‘I just want to go home,’ said Luke. ‘I’ve got five-a-side tonight.’

‘Your mum’s coming to pick you up,’ said McNeil.

‘I don’t need my mum,’ said the boy. ‘I’m twelve.’

‘We’d just be happier if she was here to take care of you,’ said McNeil. ‘You’ve both been through a very trying experience.’

‘Do you think he’s going to blow up the bus?’ asked Luke.

‘We hope not,’ said McNeil. ‘Now, the man, did he say anything to you, anything at all?’

Luke shook his head. ‘He just said we were to do as we were told. We were on the top deck so we didn’t see much. He’s a Muslim, right? He wants to kill anyone who isn’t. That’s what this is about, right?’

‘It might be,’ said McNeil. ‘Did he say anything about that? Did he talk about Islam?’

‘He didn’t say anything, really. Not to us, anyway. Like I said, we were upstairs.’

‘What about when he let you off?’ asked McNeil. ‘Did he say anything then?’

Luke shook his head again.

Biddulph noticed that the other boy seemed uncomfortable, staring at the floor and fidgeting. ‘What about you, Peter?’ asked Biddulph. ‘Did he say anything to you?’

‘Not really,’ said the boy.

‘Are you sure? Nothing at all?’

‘I don’t want to say.’

Biddulph frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

The boy shrugged. ‘He’s a pervert,’ he said, his voice barely a whisper.

‘A pervert?’

‘He was asking me about condoms.’

Biddulph and McNeil stared at each other in astonishment.