Chapter 23

Libby did not appreciate the flippancy to which Cadman referred to the Passengers.

‘We have yet to discuss it properly,’ she said. ‘And I wouldn’t know where to start. It’s impossible.’

Cadman shrugged. ‘Bringing the dead back to life; travelling at the speed of light; standing at a supermarket checkout and not looking at what

the person in front of you has put on the conveyer belt – they are impossible things. Voting for someone to die whom you’ve never met? Not so impossible. And the public is already lapping up the opportunity to have its say.’

‘Who in their right mind would want to send someone to their death?’

Cadman read the tablet he held. ‘Approximately two hundred thousand people so far – and that’s based only on what’s trending on Twitter.’

‘I don’t understand. Two hundred thousand people are doing what so far?’ asked Libby.

Cadman turned to his team. ‘Am I going to have to spell everything out to them?’ He sighed. ‘Of the million Twitter mentions of the hijacking, at least two hundred thousand of them have hashtagged the name of a Passenger they’d most like to see dead.’

‘How can they be so quick to judge?’ asked Muriel. ‘They know as much about the Passengers as we do. You can’t make a decision based on so little.’

‘Wars have been started, fought and won on less detail,’ Cadman replied.

‘Muriel is correct,’ the Hacker began, and a hush befell the room.

‘People are voting purely on the basis of what they have seen and little else

– much like how decisions are made in your inquests.’ Libby was the only juror not to look sheepish. ‘Your process is biased and unfair,’ the Hacker continued. ‘I would like to make my process fairer.’ He paused.

‘Is he always this dramatic?’ Cadman whispered.

‘He’s waiting for us to ask how,’ said Libby.

‘Ooh, mind games. I’ll bite. How, Mr Hacker?’

‘Let’s find out a little bit more about our Passengers, shall we?’ the Hacker replied. ‘Please turn your attention to the wall.’

Libby watched as some screens blanked and others rotated so that just eight remained. Seven contained one Passenger, and the last showed footage of fire fighters dampening the blaze of Victor Patterson’s taxi. It was a stark reminder of what the Hacker was capable of.

‘Let’s begin with Passenger number one. Claire Arden is a twenty-six-year-old teaching assistant at a school for children with special needs. She is married to husband Benjamin and seven months pregnant with their first child.’ Libby’s heart broke for the red-eyed woman, tears streaming down

her face and clutching her stomach. And when #killclaire appeared in the corner of the screen, it made Libby nauseous.

‘In vehicle number two, we have Bilquis Hamila, forty-six, who arrived in this country two years ago from Somalia, claiming political asylum. She is widowed and has a daughter back home whom she hopes to bring to the UK. Her application to become a British citizen has already been refused by the Home Office, and she is currently mid-way through the appeals process.’

In her nursing career, Libby had worked with refugees, foreign nationals and asylum seekers. So she was no stranger to hearing the horrors inflicted on a person by war and torture and seeing how regularly it manifested itself with psychoses, depression and PTSD. She wondered how much Bilquis had suffered to make her flee her country and leave her child behind.

‘Our third passenger, you might recognise. It’s actress Sofia Bradbury, seventy-eight, a star of stage and screen for seven decades. She is married to husband Patrick, they are childless, and she has dedicated much of her spare time to raising millions of pounds for children’s charities and hospitals.’ To everyone’s surprise, Sofia gave the camera a smile and a wave.

When Passenger four’s face filled the screen, Libby’s heart raced again.

‘Jude Harrison is twenty-nine years old, a former computer programmer for a car manufacturing company. He has no partner, no dependents and is currently unemployed. He is also presently homeless and living out of his car.’

Libby drew in a long breath – the homeless part of his description having come out of the blue. She noted Jude’s eyes shifting away from his camera, embarrassed. What had happened to him in their time apart that caused him to live in his vehicle? This time, she looked beyond him and spotted empty pizza boxes and fast food cartons next to a rucksack, all spread out across the seats behind him. For the first time, she noticed a sadness in Jude that ran deeper than his current circumstances. She had seen the same look before in her brother Nicky’s eyes.

‘Passengers five and six are husband and wife Heidi and Samuel Cole, both forty years of age,’ the Hacker continued. ‘They are parents to children Beccy and James, aged nine and eight. They have been married for ten years. Sam runs a refurbishment and construction company while Heidi is a police officer in the Bedfordshire constabulary.’ Libby’s heart went out to

their children and hoped they had been shielded from what was being broadcast. The couple appeared as anxious as one another. She couldn’t decide if having your partner trapped in the same life or death situation as you would be a comfort or more stressful.

‘And finally, Passenger number seven is Shabana Khartri, thirty-eight, a stay-at-home mother of five who is married to husband Vihaan, an alleged people trafficker. She moved to the UK when she married at eighteen and has lived here ever since. She has never worked and does not speak English.’

How much does she understand about what’s happening around her?

Libby asked herself. By the way she wrung her hands and kept her eyes tightly shut, Libby assumed Shabana was only too aware that she was caught up in something awful.

‘Now, jurors,’ the Hacker continued, ‘without discussing your decision with your colleagues and based only upon the information I have presented to you, it is decision time. One by one, please tell me which Passenger you are choosing to send to their death.’