bounced in our seats. There was no street-lighting, and no one about. The only noise as our engine closed down came from a dog going apeshit and the drone of traffic on the main, two or three blocks away.
I sparked up the phone and once more made sure my number would show. 'I'm going to jump out for a while, mate. It could be five minutes, it could be an hour – I'm not sure. You OK to wait here?'
He looked at me wide-eyed. 'For hundred dollar? Maybe!'
I closed the door behind me and stood against a wall. He might be my new mate, but he didn't need to know what was happening, for both our sakes.
The phone rang. I hoped she'd answer. I didn't want to start jumping over walls to find her refuge.
Within five or six rings her voice was in my ear. 'I told you not to call again.'
There was no time to beat about the bush. 'Basma, listen to me – Dominik's in the shit and I need your help. I was with him in Iraq. I was there to get him out of the shit, and that's why I'm here now. You're the only one who can help me do that. I'm outside your house right now. Come out and meet me. I don't want to have to come in.'
There was hesitation. 'Where did you say you are?'
'Right outside. On Ghazni where it meets Sarak.'
More hesitation. 'OK, wait.'
I listened for the rattle of a steel door or to see some light or movement. It took a few minutes, but at last I heard bolts being thrown. The sound came from further down on Ghazni. I ran the fifteen or so metres just to be there the moment she appeared. It was a set of wooden gates, wide enough for vehicles. They were blue, and the paint was peeling.
The right one opened just a few inches. It was on a chain. I moved my face close to the gap. 'Basma, I'm Nick.'
The door closed, the chain rattled, then it opened properly. She came out on to the street and closed it hurriedly behind her, as if that was going to stop me. It wasn't locked.
We stood there awkwardly, like a couple of teenagers on the doorstep after our first date. She came to about chest height, and was even better-looking in the flesh than she had been onscreen.
'Who are you, Nick?'
'I told you, a friend. I was in Basra with him.' Dom seemed to know all the beautiful women. She wasn't local but Arab. 'Dom's missing. He's probably here in the city. Has he made contact with you? Did he come and see you a few days ago? Don't fuck me about, I'm trying to save his life.'
She put her hands to her mouth, but not very convincingly. What I was telling her wasn't news.
She lowered them slowly. 'Do you know what's happened to him?'
'He's been kidnapped. Did he come and see you?' I studied her face. 'He did, didn't he?'
She nodded and sank back against the door.
Now the chink in the armour was exposed, it was time to scream in. 'He came straight here from Basra. You know why? He tell you?'
She tried to look blank. She wasn't very good at this stuff.
I stabbed a finger towards her, stopping just short of her shoulder. 'I've got no fucking time to piss about. I'm here to get him out of the shit. Do you want to help me or not? Did he come and see you?'
She nodded. 'Yes, he was staying here. He wanted somewhere he wouldn't be spotted.'
'Glad we cleared that up. Now, why was he here?'
No more evasion. She gave me eye to eye. 'He's investigating heroin-trafficking. He was trying to fix a meeting with someone from the Taliban. He said they're supplying heroin to the British.'
My finger came up for another stab but she beat me to it. 'No, he didn't say who it was. He didn't want to tell me because he wanted to protect me. All I know is that it's to do with the British. People high up in the embassy, right here in the city. I told him it was madness trying to expose such things, but Dominik said he had a film as security.'
'What did he say about the film? Did he mention Dublin?'
She shook her head. 'I'm sorry, that was all he told me.'
'Tell me about his movements. When did you last see him?'