Frozen solid: the Hackney siege enters a 12th night

It is the 12th night of the Hackney siege and the Mexican television reporter is becoming agitated. A group of police officers won't stand still long enough for him to deliver his piece to camera with them in the background. Despite being wrapped and padded against the bitter cold, the police have to keep shuffling about like a group of black-clad Teletubbies to keep warm.

But as one officer said, barely audible through the woollen scarf around his face, at least they can nip inside their warm van every half-hour or so to warm up. And they get to go home at the end of their shift.

For Eli Hall, there is neither relief nor escape from the cold. Since an armed confrontation with police over a car linked to an armed robbery, Mr Hall, 32, has been barricaded inside a flat, in the knowledge that the sights of dozens of police marksmen are trained on him 24-hours a day.

It is bitterly cold and dark inside because the lighting and heating has been turned off; he has no food since last Thursday. His only communication with the outside world is via the field telephone that the police negotiators have installed. If the police think he has fallen asleep they will sound an air-raid siren to wake him up. To complete the deprivation they also confiscated the cannabis someone had hidden inside a takeaway fried chicken that was being sent in to him.

While he may have his weapons for company Mr Hall no longer has the hostage whom he had held from the outset. The man, 28, whose name has not been divulged by police and who had been staying in the flat when the incident began, somehow managed to escape on Sunday afternoon. He is now being "debriefed'' by police.

For local people the initial excitement and disruption has settled into a routine. Dozens were initially evacuated but many have returned and come and go under police supervision. Some have chosen to stay put and rely on the novelty and possibly the pleasure, of police acting as grocery delivery boys.

Matthew Power, an information officer at the National Gallery who lives just 10 doors away from the siege flat, suffers the inconvenience with a shrug. "The only time that it really troubled me was on New Year's Day," he said. "I had a hangover and nipped out to get some bread and stuff. They wouldn't let me back for four hours. I just hope it all ends without anybody coming to harm.''

New Year's Day was difficult presumably because Mr Hall was in one of his more volatile states. His mood appears to have gone up and down and shots have been heard at least twice. The first field telephone sent in was damaged and after another was delivered yesterday police restored communication after a 24-hour silence. He called them to discuss his situation and was, as Commander Bob Quick put it, "mildly encouraging'' after the realities of his situation had been explained to him.

"We hope that he will think through the consequences of his situation and recognise what they might be. He will be thinking through some of the issues we have described to him,'' said Commander Quick.

Police have made it clear they are in no hurry to bring proceedings to a close but local people still wonder how long it can continue. Estella Duncan, a care worker visiting a woman in one of the flats inside the cordon said: "He's young and strong I suppose. Up until now he'll have been getting good food won't he, so he'll have plenty of strength to continue for some time.'' But she confided: "Most people don't know why the police don't go in there and get it over with.''

The answer according to Commander Quick is that to do so would put police at unnecessary risk. "We don't know what sort of booby-traps he may have and we don't want to do anything that might lead to a discharge of firearms and put lives at risk," he said.

In other words they don't actually have to do much except wait. This is a shift that cannot continue for ever.