it easy for the time being. It’s Ferguson and Major Miller who are putting themselves in harm’s way. They’re going on a flying visit to Peshawar to nose around.’
‘But why?’
‘Just to get a feel for the situation. I gave them names of people who might be able to help. Dak Khan, José Fernandez and Jemal Hamid.’
‘And have they agreed to help?’
‘It seems that Jemal Hamid was killed in a convoy ambush the other week, but the other two have. Ferguson and Miller will be looked after by a Colonel Ahmed Atep — does he mean anything to you?’
‘No, he’s not familiar to me, though it’s years since I was there. Wasn’t he there when you visited five months ago?’
‘No, he must be new.’
‘So what happens now?’ Malik asked.
‘I haven’t the slightest idea. I just had a meeting with all of Ferguson’s people. I was able to put a face to everybody, something I couldn’t do before. Roper, Ferguson, Miller, Dillon, and the two gangsters, the Salters.’
‘Gangsters?’ Malik said.
‘Well, that’s what they used to be. Young Billy is MI5 now and his uncle has millions in developments by the Thames. It pays better than robbing banks.’
‘Everything is a joke to you, Daniel.’
‘It’s the only thing that got me through five years in the Lubyanka Prison, my friend. Take care, Malik, I’ll be in touch.’ He hung up.
Malik sighed, deeply troubled by the direction in which the whole affair was going. There was a step on the terrace and he turned to find Colonel Ali Hakim there.
‘Forgive the intrusion; your gatekeeper let me into the garden. I was passing and wondered how you are.’
‘Not good at all,’ Malik said. ‘I worry so much about Daniel. I just can’t help it.’
Hakim managed a look of concern. ‘My dear old friend, what’s he been up to now?’
Farley Field belonged to the Ministry of Defence and was restricted, but the public car park next to it was not, and was popular with plane-spotters due to the increase in military traffic. Lancy had out his binoculars along with the rest of them and found the Gulfstream, waiting to go, the steps down, two RAF officers beside it.
He could recognize Ferguson, Dillon and Daniel Holley standing together by a Daimler limousine, and then a Mercedes appeared. The man who got out was Miller. It was five-thirty. He waited. Finally, the Gulfstream started across the runway and rose into the air.
He got back into the Mercedes and called the Preacher. ‘They’ve just left.’
‘Excellent,’ Shah said. ‘Let’s hope they enjoy themselves.’
‘You’re going to do the business on them, aren’t you, Boss?’
‘I would think Peshawar dangerous enough without my help,’ Shah told him.
Lancy said, ‘What do I do now?’
‘Go back to making a living, Selim. I’m sure the ladies adore your manly good looks. You’ll find, by the way, that your bank account has been inflated by five thousand pounds. I know your mother’s cancer treatment means she can’t work. Give her my blessing, but remember you belong to Osama.’
To which there could be no answer, and Selim Lancy switched off, shaking his head. What kind of geezer was he, the Preacher? One minute he was the lord of life and death, and the next he was the soul of kindness and charity. Lancy had punished people for him, wounding to keep Muslim wrongdoers in line, and he’d shot dead two Muslim men from Kosovo involved in a prostitution ring importing young girls. Death was all they deserved, the Preacher had said, and Lancy had obliged, dumping the bodies in the Thames.
It didn’t bother him. After all, it was small beer after Afghanistan. On the other hand, the business with his mother was a debt that should be repaid. He sat there behind the wheel of the Mercedes, thinking about the situation. Ferguson and Miller were out of the way, which left Dillon, Holley and the Salters. He smiled. Thanks to the information the Preacher had supplied, he knew all about the Salters, and their history intrigued him. East End gangsters who’d made good, millionaires up there with the toffs. He admired that and felt no animosity. They were on the wrong side, that was all.
There was a restaurant called Harry’s Place and a pub, the Dark Man, in Wapping. It was where Salter had started out, his favourite place, and he had a boat there called the Linda Jones tied up at the end of the jetty outside. That’s where any aggravation would hurt him most. Lancy smiled and