Romano said, “We know this guy Fitzgerald. He’s been coming on and off for a couple of years. He’s a friend of Tomac. Dives from his joint.”

“Is he any good?” Billy asked.

“He thinks he is. You and Dillon, so you both dive?”

Billy smiled. “It’s been known.”

Dillon opened his briefcase and took a computer sheet out. “This Fitzgerald has been a student at London University. I got a friend of mine to access his file. This is his photo. You confirm it’s him?”

They both examined it. “Definitely,” Romano said. “And you tell me he’s IRA?”

“Well, I was IRA and I did many things, but to persuade a young nurse to give this woman, my sick friend, an overdose, then shoot the nurse dead when she’s done her work. I don’t think I ever did a thing like that.”

“It’s a thing no man should do.” Jack Romano bit his thumb.

Cameci said, “Infamita.”

“Well, let’s have another drink to a suitable death for him.” Russo reached for the bottle and Tomac came along the boardwalk.

“Tomac’s come visiting.”

Tomac paused, Ibrahim on Eagle Two bobbed his head to him and there was a brief exchange.

Dillon murmured, “Fruits of a misspent youth, but I speak Arabic. Tomac said, ‘I see you, Ibrahim.’ Ibrahim said, ‘I see you, Effendi.’ Tomac said, ‘Remember who your friends are.’ ”

“Is that so?” Russo said, but by that stage Tomac was at the gangway.

“Ah, my good friend Russo. Permission to come aboard.” All this was delivered with perfect bonhomie.

“Why not?”

Romano stood up and gave him a hand, and Tomac eased his great body along the gangway and made it to a chair.

“Have a glass of Chianti,” Russo told him. “Ice cold, just the way you like it.”

“The way you like it.” Tomac wiped his sweaty face with a large handkerchief and nodded. “Gentlemen.”

“Allow me to introduce Mr. Dillon and Mr. Salter,” Russo said. “I’ve just flown them from Ibiza.”

“Ah, here for the diving, gentlemen?”

Dillon said, “I hear it’s spectacular. I was urged to visit by an Irish friend, one Dermot Fitzgerald.”

“I don’t think I know him.”

Dillon took the photo from the briefcase again. “Perhaps you recognize him?”

“No, I’m afraid not. Of course, I can’t be expected to remember all our customers. Many people come to dive here. You will be staying long?”

“As long as it takes,” Billy said.

“Do you intend to stay at the Trocadero?”

“No, we’ll spend the night here,” Russo told him.

“How agreeable, but I’d be desolated if you failed to visit my poor establishment before you leave.” He heaved himself up. “Until later.” He negotiated the gangway and departed.

“Well, at least we know he’s lying,” Dillon said.

There was a small coffee stall just along toward the pier. Ibrahim had walked over to it, was standing there, drinking a cup, and Tomac paused as he passed, only briefly, and moved on. Ibrahim came back to Eagle Two and Russo called him to the rail.

“What did Tomac want?”

“For me to watch what your guests do and let him know.”

“And will you?”

“I am your man, but if it pleases him to think otherwise…” Ibrahim shrugged.

“Good. Have you anything to say to me?”

“My cousin was down from the airport, the one who works for the police. He says the plane which landed earlier is Russian and owned by a company called Belov International.”

“Who was on it?”

“A man and a woman. They’ve moved to the Trocadero.”

“And the plane?”

“Still at the airport. Two pilots. They are staying at the crew’s emergency quarters behind the bar.”

“That’s interesting. Go along to the Trocadero and ask your cousin Ali, the porter. See what’s going on. This man Fitzgerald, you will recognize. I understand he’s dived here many times. I want any information on him and the man and the woman from the airport.”

Ibrahim went obediently. Russo said, “We’ll see what happens. In the meantime, let’s have a swim.”

At the Trocadero, Fitzgerald listened intently while Tomac filled him in.

“So, we have these Russians from the GRU who claim their mission is to protect you from these two men, Dillon and Salter.”

“What shall I do?”

“I’ll tell Abdul to take you in the Land Rover to the house at Zarza, only he won’t. He’ll take you to the dive center. I’ll phone Hussein and tell him to expect you. You can stay in one of the dive boats or the old dhow, the Sultan. Keep your head down till we sort something out. This is going to cost you ten thousand pounds, I trust you realize that.”

“No trouble, I’m good for it.” Fitzgerald picked up his bag. “Let’s get moving. I don’t trust either side in this.”

Tomac’s next move was partly a result of his devious nature. He was smiling to himself as he went downstairs and found Greta and Levin in the bar by the window. He eased himself down beside them.

“This man you seek, Fitzgerald, is at a house in Zarza six miles up the coast from here in the marsh. He’s waiting to be picked up in a couple of hours to be taken to Algiers. Something to do with smuggling. Nothing to do with me, but the information is sound.”

“How do we get there?” Greta asked.

“I’ll have Abdul take you in the Land Rover.” He puffed out his cheeks. “Why, I don’t know as it can’t possibly profit me. You’ll be armed?”

“Naturally,” Levin told him.

“A wise precaution in these parts.” He heaved himself up. “I can only wish you luck.” He went and spoke to Abdul and shuffled away.

“What do you think?” Greta asked Levin.

“I don’t see a better offer on the table.” Levin shrugged. “Why would he double-cross us? What would be the purpose? Come on, let’s go and get ready.”

Tomac phoned the Eagle Deep Dive Center and asked for Russo.

“You know the old house at Zarza?” Tomac said.

“Yes.”

“This Fitzgerald man. I have it on good authority that he’ll be there in about two hours waiting for a lift to Algiers.”

“A long drive,” Russo said.

“Well, maybe he wants to go as far away as possible. If the information is useful, use it. Pay me back another time.”

He switched off the phone and started to laugh. It was really very funny. It would have been nice to have seen it.

“So that’s it,” Russo said. “I don’t know what he’s playing at, but it’s up to you.”

It was Billy who spoke. “We’ll go for it. What else is there to do here? Come on, Dillon, let’s get tooled up and go and take the sod on.”

“If he’s there, Billy.”

“I’ll take you myself in the Ford,” Russo said. “Even on these roads and a run into the marsh, it’s forty-five minutes at the most. What have you got to lose?” He turned to Romano and Cameci. “You two mind the store.”

The coast road was at least surfaced, occasional small farms, lots of date palms, almond trees, thin cows, ribs showing, sheep, even the odd camel.

“It’s like something out of the Bible,” Greta said.

Levin smiled. “Darling, they’d probably cut my throat. You, of course, they’d sell in the slave market.”

“Thanks very much.”

Abdul, enigmatic as he drove, turned the Land Rover into the beginnings of the harsh and pungent smell of the marsh. As they started along the dike roads, wild fowl and seabirds stirred under protest.

The sky had darkened, and Greta said, “What’s wrong?”

“Summer storm,” Abdul told her. “A cold front from the sea. Soon we get rain.”

The sun had vanished, the reeds, ten feet high at least, seemed to stretch to eternity. It was as wild and desolate as anything Greta had ever known, mile upon mile of the great reeds stretching into the distance, an eerie whispering as the wind moved amongst them and a strange mist fell. And then it started to rain.