Free The Balance of Guilt by Simon Hall

the black suit, he wore a black shirt and black tie. His shoes were also black. On the walk up the stairs, Dan had noted that even his socks were black.
    He was tempted to ask if the man also wore black Y-fronts, but suspected the joke wouldn’t be appreciated.
    They waited. The Imam’s pen scratched at some paper. The occasional deep breath emerged from the block of humanity as the air completed its long and wearying passage around his lungs. Still they waited, static and silent. It was almost comical. Finally, the man at the desk looked up and gave them a warm smile.
    ‘Imam Tahir Aziz,’ announced the man in black loudly. He stood up and they shook hands. He was small and slight, his white robe giving him a ghostlike presence.
    ‘And my assistant is Abdul Omah,’ the Imam replied, in a gentle voice. There was another round of hand-shaking, the man’s grip making Dan wince.
    ‘It is not our way to speak out,’ the Imam began. ‘We try to live a quiet and modest life. But given the events of yesterday, I believe we have no choice. I am prepared to go on your television station and answer the questions you wish to put to me.’
    Nigel began setting up the camera, watched carefully by Abdul.
    ‘Thank you,’ Dan replied, taking out his notebook. ‘What is it you wanted to say?’
    ‘I need to tell you that Islam is a peaceful religion. We utterly denounce terrorism. Those who choose that path, and claim the backing of our faith for it, are entirely incorrect and utterly misguided. The Koran preaches the greatest respect for life.’
    ‘And yet some do choose that path?’
    Dan was aware the man in black had taken a step towards him and was now uncomfortably close. He shifted on his chair.
    The Imam’s smile didn’t falter. ‘What is your religion?’
    ‘I’m afraid I don’t have one.’
    ‘Then were you born into a faith?’
    ‘Catholicism.’
    ‘And you would say it’s a peaceful religion?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Yet it was responsible for dreadful persecutions in the Inquisition.’
    ‘Which was hundreds of years ago.’
    ‘And not so long ago, did not many in Northern Ireland claim the faith as the basis for their terrorism?’
    ‘I think there was a little more to it than that.’
    The Imam spread his arms. ‘My point precisely. There is always more to it. Any person may take any belief, twist it in their minds and use it as justification for their actions. It is the nature of the weakness of man. But it does not change the fact that Islam is a religion of peace and tolerance. We may have different ways to many in the western world, but we can disagree, yet still live side by side.’
    The large man in black emitted a low grunt. The Imam gave him a fond look. ‘Abdul is a little less accommodating than me. He finds many western habits difficult to take. But he is still a man of peace too.’
    Another grunt from the dark rectangle.
    The sunlight was beaming through the windows, straight into Dan’s face. He blinked hard and shifted on his chair again. Abdul moved too, so that he remained just a little too close. He had a dense presence like the air before a storm.
    ‘I’m ready and rolling,’ said Nigel, cheerfully. The man in black took a couple of paces back until he was by Tahir’s side and folded his arms once more. They made an odd pair, everything about them a contrast, from their clothes to their build.
    Dan was about to phrase a question, but the Imam spoke first. ‘This is what I am willing to tell you. All true Muslims condemn yesterday’s bombing as strongly as anyone else. We believe terrorism is an evil which must be eradicated and we will do all we can to help the police in that. We ask for no more attacks on our mosque, or our followers. We simply wish to live in peace together.’
    Dan nodded. ‘Did you know the bomber, John Tanton?’
    ‘I am not prepared to discuss that.’
    ‘Did he ever come here to the mosque?’
    ‘I am not prepared to discuss that.’
    ‘Another man