‘And all so unnecessary!’ drawled Rathmore.

They all turned to look at Rathmore who had been sitting silently with a derisive smirk on his face. ‘For an intelligent woman, Dr Holbrook, you show surprising lack of insight! All this talk of weighing in the balance, bargaining lives for deaths, tribal pride, is so much sentimental claptrap!’ He looked triumphantly round at the astonished faces turned to him. ‘Tribal pride, indeed! I can tell you what tribal pride is worth! Oh, yes! I am in a position to tell you down to the last farthing precisely what it takes to buy off tribal pride!

‘And as for you!’ He turned his scorn on Joe. ‘I suppose it makes a welcome change from routine police work haring about the desert dressed in that gawd ’elp us get-up but – really! – when it comes to being a Khan – I suppose some Khan and some just Khan’t!’ He greeted his own joke with a bark of laughter but no one joined him.

‘Do you know what your mistake was?’ he plunged on. ‘Well, I’ll tell you! You made the mistake of underestimating the Afridi. You assume they’re just a bunch of medieval savages locked into their centuries-old traditions and you think you can get the better of them by playing them at their own tribal customs game. Nonsense! They would always beat you at that! Oh, no, that’s not the way. I, on the other hand, saw straight to the heart of our problem and solved it! We were always going to be released today. Oh, yes! I had negotiated it before ever the circus came to town!’ He cast a derisive look at Grace and Joe and Lily, still wearing their native dress. ‘Would you like to hear how I did it?’

‘Nobody’s going to step out of the rocks and shoot him,’ Lily thought. ‘I’m going to have to do it myself!’ She touched for reassurance the bulge of the small pistol she kept in her boot and calmed her irritation by deciding which part of his bloated body to aim at first.

Not waiting for a reply, Rathmore pounded on. ‘It’s obvious to me that a man who can run a tribe of such size efficiently must be a fair sort of businessman. And that’s how I dealt with him. He recognized me for what I was… ’

‘And what were you, Dermot?’ Lily drawled.

‘A businessman like himself and one empowered to deal with him in the name of the British Government. Money, Miss Coblenz. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you of all people how the power of money transcends all languages, all little local difficulties. I explained my plans for opening up a trade route over the frontier and into Afghanistan. He understood at once what was involved and made some positive and very helpful suggestions. Roads. That’s what it all comes down to. He pointed out (I had already noticed) that the road system is not good. Patchy and unsuitable in most places for the lorry transport I have in mind. Did you know that the contracts for road building in this country are hotly sought after? No? It’s the local tribes who undertake the work and there is strong competition between them to be awarded the contracts by the government. The Afridi lost out last time to the Mohmands and they’ve never forgiven them. I was able to say, “This time it’ll all be different, Ramazad, because I will be the one advising on the distribution of contracts. But of course I can only do that if I am free to deal in Simla.” He took my point at once, of course. He offered, very sensibly, to extend the terms of reference to include an Afridi protection squad of Khassadars, I think he called them, who will guard the road workers initially and stay on as road patrols for the convoys when they start coming through. Excellent man! He has quite an eye for detail and is a tough negotiator. Just the kind of man I like to do business with!’

‘In Chicago, we call this a “shake-down”,’ Lily muttered. ‘He didn’t try to sell you tickets to a ward ball too, did he?’

Rathmore ignored her and his tone hardened. ‘He was quite distressed that I should have been put to such inconvenience by that man.’ Rathmore pointed an accusing finger at Iskander. ‘And agreed to make amends by outlawing him. Quite right too. Least he could have done. Known troublemaker, everyone agrees. And now an outlaw. I wonder if you’re aware that under Afridi law I could shoot him where he sits, no questions asked?’

The shaft of hatred Iskander directed at Rathmore was more disturbing to Joe than the unsheathing of a dagger but Rathmore seemed comfortably unconcerned.

‘I’d arranged for an armed escort for myself and Miss Coblenz back to Gor Khatri and I have to say I was afraid you might have wrecked my careful arrangements when your rag tag and bobtail outfit rolled into the fort!’

The deep silence that followed this flourish was finally broken by Lily. She looked lazily at Rathmore and addressed the company in her thickest western drawl. ‘Gee! If this were Daddy’s ranch I’d ask Slim and the boys to string this feller up by his balls from the nearest cottonwood tree.’

‘Don’t think those wizened old apricots would take the strain,’ said Grace ambiguously. ‘The river? We could dunk him in the river?’

‘No, an anthill’s what we want,’ said Joe looking round. ‘Isn’t that one over there? If you peg a chap out over one…’

‘That takes too long,’ said Iskander. ‘Three days at least. But the sun’s still high. We could slit his eyelids and tie him to a tree facing west. He’d be blind and mad before sunset.’

‘Oh, very funny!’ snarled Rathmore. ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones… ’

‘Okay, then,’ said Joe, ‘sticks and stones it is!’

He jumped to his feet and Rathmore ran for his horse, screaming abuse over his shoulder as he ran. ‘… ungrateful!… police clod!… when I get back to Simla!… Johnny Simpkins in the Home Office… cut you down to size!… pounding the beat in Seven Dials!’

He set off at a gallop heading west for Gor Khatri.

‘All the same,’ said Joe, laughing but rather ashamed of their display, ‘I’d rather he didn’t get too far ahead of us. Lord knows what rubbish he’d put into James’s head if he arrived before us.’

‘Okay. Mount up, folks,’ said Lily and she made her way at Joe’s side over to the horses now tethered in the shade of the thickest tree. She paused, her hand on the bridle, to look up into the branches. ‘Look at that, Joe,’ she said. “The bird. You kind of forget in this wilderness that creatures can thrive in the nooks and crannies. What is that?’

Joe looked. A parent bird was balancing precariously on the edge of a nest, thrusting something unspeakable into the throat of its young. He stared and was quiet for a moment. ‘It’s a bloody marvel, that’s what it is! It’s the answer to everything! Oh, sorry, Lily. The bird. Yes, it’s an, er, a lesser-spotted Himalayan mountain thrush. Yes, that’s what it is.’

‘Oh yeah? And you’re a greater-spotted liar bird! What’s up, Joe?’

A second later, she answered her own question. ‘Jeez! I see it too! Oh, but they couldn’t have! Could they? No! Bet they did though! Oh, Joe, we’ve got a few questions to put to certain parties who’ve been pulling our legs and jerking our chain when we get back to the fort!’