'I don't see why not. Especially since I intend to go and supervise the job myself.'

Shah was shocked. 'But that's crazy. How could you disguise yourself?'

'To Marsh Arabs and Berbers, I'd be just another white face. I was in the Algerian desert four years ago with a Talbot International oil exploration team. I was very impressed with the Tuaregs – noble and aristocratic bastards who wear dark blue robes and turbans and veils. Ordinary Arabs shy away from them. I took some of the robes home as a souvenir. I knew I'd find a use for them one day.'

'So how would you get there?'

'There's an old World War Two air-force base called Fasa on the eastern end of the marshes. It's in ruins, but the runway is still viable. Talbot International has a Citation X at Frensham with full tanks, which can manage the flight to Algiers and the return to England. I might fly it myself, but I'll take another pilot along, too, to stand guard while I'm in the marshes. With luck, it won't take more than thirty-six hours.'

'And you insist on doing this?'

'I'm bored out of my skull and I want to see some action. So I suggest you get things moving with Ali Hakim, like yesterday, unless you think he'll say no.'

'Impossible,' Shah said. 'He has taken the oath. I'll call him at once, but I'll give you his mobile number, too, just in case you need to get in touch at some stage.' Justin returned to rubbing down the stallion, whistling to himself softly. Above, in the studio, his mother still sat on a stool by the half-open door, trying to take it all in. It had been only half of a conversation, so it was difficult to make sense of, but there'd been enough to tell her that her son was getting into something very heavy indeed. And yet she felt, as she had before, a strange kind of paralysis that prevented her from broaching the matter with him. Once again, she backed off and went down the stairs into the stable.

He turned to her and smiled. 'Haven't you finished that damn portrait yet?'

'Soon,' she said, 'I promise you. I'm going to the kitchen to make some sandwiches. Come when you're ready.'

She went out, and he eased the stallion into its stall, closed the gate and went after her. Dillon was having coffee with Holley when got a call from Roper. 'So you've got out of dear old Ulster in one piece.'

'Why, Roper, you sound unhappy about that. Is the General functioning, and Miller?'

'Oh yes. Ferguson's been very understanding about the whole Mickeen Oge business, though he says he'll be happy to have you pay for the air ambulance, Daniel.'

'That's very gracious of him,' Dillon said.

'Just shut up and listen, Sean. He knows about the trip to Collyban and what happened to you, and considers your behaviour ill-advised and reckless.'

'That's nice of him.'

'Yes, but while you guys were busy last night in Belfast, things were happening here as well.'

'Like what?' Dillon was frowning now.

'Like an Al Qaeda hit man shooting Billy outside the Dark Man. If you can keep quiet for five minutes, I'll give you the details.'

When he was finished, Holley said, 'So we now know for certain that Osama bin Laden's man in London is called the Preacher, Shamrock is one of his assets, and Al Qaeda is hoping to shoot the lot of us at the first opportunity.'

'Yes, isn't life grand?' Roper said. 'Ferguson is having a council of war this afternoon. I think it's time to start going after these guys hard.' At the same time, Colonel Ali Hakim was also on the phone to the Preacher, who explained exactly what he wanted Hakim to do.

When he was finished, Hassan Shah said, 'Are we clear?'

'Of course. Actually, it shouldn't be that difficult. That old ruined air base at Fasa is on the edge of the desert and about ten miles from the west side of the Khufra marshes. We keep two police launches there, and there is a coastal village called Dafur, which also has an old runway from the days of the Afrika Korps. It's still used in emergencies.'

'Do the police go into the marshes frequently?'

'Not really. It's a place for bad people to hide in. Omar Hamza is an old friend of mine. He acts as a government supply agent. To be frank, I have a financial arrangement with him. He will do as I say, I assure you, and that will include welcoming this Shamrock.'

'It is essential that you do. Ferguson wants him badly, and Shamrock is the bait in the trap to make them come. What about the Ministry in Algiers?'

'You can leave that to me.'

'And the police to crew the launches?'

'Blackguards to a man. The men I'll use are thoroughly corrupt – and they don't take prisoners.'

'Excellent,' the Preacher said. 'Speak to Malik now. Time is of the essence.'

He switched off. Hakim sat there for a moment, then called Malik at his villa. When Malik answered, Hakim said, 'My dear friend, how are you? I was wondering if I could call round for a coffee.'

'Of course. You know I'm always glad to see you.'

'I have something I think you might be interested to hear.' They sat on the terrace drinking Yemeni Mocha coffee, and Hakim told him everything he thought Malik needed to know. 'Things have got out of hand in the Khufra. This Hamza used to be a good man, but now he's a bad man. Who this individual is he calls Shamrock, I have no idea.'

'It was always a haven for scoundrels,' Malik said.

'Yes, well, the days of the honest thief are over, especially the way the drug traffic has increased. Our friend Hamza has operated under several false names over the years and made a living running a trading post on Diva Island, right in the centre of things. We knew it was him, and decided to let it go as long as he behaved himself, but the cocaine and heroin smuggling can't be overlooked. There's a fortune in that white powder!'

'Disgraceful,' Malik said. 'It must be stopped.'

'Oh, I intend to do that. I'll go in with two launches and elite police and lay hands on Hamza, if it's the last thing I do. Mind you, it won't be easy, but I'm old-fashioned, my friend.' He stood up and put on his cap. 'Duty and honour. If you are talking to Daniel, give him my best – and if he needs assistance from me in any way, you can give him my number.' Daniel Holley and Dillon were deep in conversation when Holley's mobile sounded. Malik said, 'Where are you? Can you talk? I've something interesting to tell you.'

'What is it?'

'You were asking where Omar Hamza had got to. I've discovered where. Those damn Khufra marshes.'

'What's he doing there?' Holley asked.

'Well, I've just been talking to Ali Hakim and it goes like this.'

When Malik finished Holley said, 'That's very interesting, Malik, very interesting indeed. I'm glad you called.'

'The good Colonel said I could give you his personal number if it would be useful and you wanted a word.'

'It certainly would,' Holley said, and inserted it into his own mobile as Malik gave it to him. 'Thanks, you've done me a real service.'

When he hung up, Dillon said, 'What was that all about?'

Holley gave him the gist of it in a few terse sentences, and Dillon said, 'Do you know this place, the Khufra marshes?'

'No, I've never been. The occasion just didn't arise.'

'Well, I have. Billy and I had a hell of a time there about three years ago, chasing a guy who was involved with the murder of Hannah Bernstein, Ferguson's personal assistant.'

Holley said, 'What did you make of the place?'

'Well, the town was pretty wide open, but the back country is wild and treacherous, with water reeds twenty feet high. The villagers and fishermen live pretty much as they have done for centuries. A good place if you want to drop out of sight.'

'Do you think Ferguson would be interested in what Malik's told me?'

'I'd say you can count on it,' Dillon said. 'If it's all true, it's the only really positive lead we've got. It can't be ignored.'