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policemen in the middle of my lounge.”
    “Then we’ll move them.”
    “Great. Where to?”
    “The bathroom.”
    “I thought you meant somewhere else? Somewhere outside.”
    “Can you get me your ironing board, duck-tape and any spare belts of Brian’s?”
    Katya cast him an odd look. “Have you been reading Fifty Shades of Grey?”
    “Just do it.”
    Whilst Katya moved into the bedroom to look for belts, Snow dragged the diminutive Officer Brovchenko into the bathroom where he removed the man’s shoes. Katya showed him where the ironing board was and Snow placed it under the still comatose officer. The man’s shackled arms were behind him and underneath the board. Katya handed him two belts. Snow nodded in approval. Made for a man with a huge waist they easily went around the thin officer twice and secured him to the board. Katya looked on none the wiser whilst Snow searched the bathroom.
    “Is this your face cloth?” He asked her.
    “Yes but it needs to be washed.”
    “All the better. Katya. I need you to go and sit in the lounge and keep watch over ‘Mr Angry’.”
    “What are you going to do?”
    “You don’t want to see what I’m going to do.”
    “Who are you Aidan, I mean really?”
    “A friend. Now go into the lounge.”
    Snow removed his polo-shirt then manoeuvred Brovchenko so that the board was leaning against the bath like a see-saw. The board creaked slighty, it wouldn’t hold for long but was all he had available. He then gently lowered the end with the officers’ head into the bath before turning on the shower. The icy cold water splashed onto the Ukrainian’s face; his feet began to tap and his eyes shot open. As the water travelled into his mouth and up his nose he started to splutter and choke. Snow pushed down and the man’s head came clear of the water. He coughed and then fought for air. Water-Boarding was an extreme measure but Snow was in a hurry. He still however hoped that he would not have to take it too far. Snow started his questioning without wasting any more time. “Where is Brian Webb?”
    “I don’t know…let me go.” Brovchenko spluttered.
    Snow placed the wet facecloth over the man’s face and then let his head drop down again into the shower. This time the material clung to his face, making it more difficult for air to get into his nostrils and mouth. Brovchenko felt as though he was drowning. He pulled his arms and tried to kick with his feet as his panic increased. It was at this point that he emptied his bladder. Snow pulled him up again and removed the towel.
    “Where is Brian Webb?”
    “You can’t do this to me I’m a serving Militia officer! You’ll be thrown in jail!”
    Snow slowly draped the facecloth once more on the young officer’s face as he did so the man started to talk – the words muffled. Snow removed the cloth. “Where is Webb?”
    “I’ve got a Krisha! I’m protected by…” His words were cut short by the facecloth once more.
    Snow held him under longer this time before snapping him up-right. He wasn’t sure how long the home-made device would last so he had to increase the risk. “Now tell me where is Webb?”
    Gasping for air Brovchenko replied. “He’s at a house in Petropolavskaya Bolshaghivga.”
    “Not a Militia station?”
    “No.”
    “Where exactly? What’s the address?”
    “It’s in Meer street…26. Yes Meer 26. Now please let me go.”
    ‘Meer’ the Russian for ‘peace’. The fact that Brian was being held at a private house and not an official address confirmed to him without a doubt that this was all a rouse. “Who provides your Krisha?”
    Officer Brovchenko became wide eyed as he realised the full cost of his error. “No I can’t!”
    Snow slapped him in the face with his open palm, replaced the face cloth and dunked his face again. This time he held him for as long as he dared before tipping him back up. It took a whole thirty seconds for Brovchenko to recover enough to be able to speak.