The immigration officer stamped a piece of paper and handed it to Harry. 'Welcome back, Mr Bradshaw. It's been a long time.'
'Sure has,' said Harry.
'Next!'
'I'll wait for you,' said Harry as Kristin made her way to the desk.
'I'll only be a moment,' she promised.
Harry passed through the barrier and entered the United States of America for the first time.
The two men in grey suits stepped forward. One of them said, 'Good morning, sir. Are you Mr Thomas Bradshaw?'
'That's me,' said Harry.
The words were hardly out of his mouth before the other man grabbed him and pinned his arms behind his back, while the first man handcuffed him. It all happened so quickly that Harry didn't even have time to protest.
He remained outwardly calm, as he had already considered the possibility that someone might work out that he wasn't Tom Bradshaw, but in fact an Englishman called Harry Clifton. Even so, he had assumed that the worst they could do was serve him with a deportation order and have him shipped back to Britain. And as that was exactly what he'd planned to do anyway, he didn't put up a fight.
Harry spotted two cars waiting by the sidewalk. The first was a black police car, with its back door being held open by another unsmiling man in a grey suit. The second was a red sports car, with Richard sitting on the bonnet, smiling.
The moment Richard saw that Tom had been handcuffed and was being led away, he leapt up and began to run towards him. At the same time, one of the police officers began to read Mr Bradshaw his rights, while the other continued to grip Harry firmly by the elbow. 'You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney.'
A moment later Richard was striding by their sides. He glared at the officers and said, 'What the hell do you think you're doing?'
'If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you,' continued the first policeman, while the other ignored him.
Richard was clearly amazed by how relaxed Tom appeared, almost as if he wasn't surprised to have been arrested. But he was still determined to do anything he could to assist his friend. He leapt forward and blocked the officers' path and said firmly, 'What are you charging Mr Bradshaw with, officer?'
The senior detective came to a halt, looked Richard in the eye, and said, 'First degree murder.'