I didnt stop to find out. Ive been making preparations for years, false passports and money, in the hope that something would come up, although not something as dreadful as this. I left in the middle of the night, but obviously theyll be after me.
So you havent left anything at all that could lead to a computer trail?
Its all in my head, I told you.
Which means theyre going to try very hard to get hold of you.
Then Ill have to see that they dont.
They talked for a few minutes more, then he hung up.
Bibi, who had been standing behind the room screen listening with a frown, a striped towel over her arm, now smiled and entered.
Ive run a bath for you. Youll feel much better after a nice long soak.
He smiled. Youre right.
I always am. She ushered him into the bathroom, then came out again, closing the door.
A fantastic story. Shed always liked Ali LeBlanc. He was a decent man whod looked after her well over the years, but what shed overheard was too good to keep to herself, and there might even be money in it.
But who should she tell? The Army of God charity on the waterfront was a front for Al Qaeda, everybody knew that. There was the Café Marco next door. Its owner, Omar Kerim, was a genial thief interested only in money; his underlings were constantly stealing it for him all over Beirut. She knew him well, had once worked for him.
She made her decision, went into the kitchen, found a large linen shopping bag, and called, Im just going out to the market. Ill be back soon.
She stepped into the lift and went down, while in the bath, head raised and slightly turned, Ali LeBlanc slept.
TWO WEEKS EARLIER2
The wind roared as waves crashed in on the shore of the Nantucket beach but failed to drown the sound of the helicopter as it landed up at the house.
Former President Jack Cazalet said to his Secret Service man, Dalton, Have General Ferguson brought straight down.
Dalton nodded, mobile phone to his ear, and Cazalet turned to meet the demands of his cherished flatcoat, Murchison. He picked up another stick to toss into the sea, and it was instantly retrieved and dropped at his feet as the jeep braked and Major-General Charles Ferguson emerged.
The salt is bad for his skin, Mr President, hell need a good hosing. Ive said that a few times over the years. He held out his hand.
So you have, old friend, Cazalet told him. Which can only mean that Murchison is getting a bit long in the tooth. You can cut out the title, by the way there can only be one Mr President.
Who offered me the use of his helicopter when he heard I was coming to New York, and suggested I drop in and see you on the way. Im supposed to offer an opinion or two on the Middle East to some UN select committee or other.
Will the President be there, too?
No, hes on his way to the UK to spend a couple of days at the Prime Ministers country retreat at Chequers. Then on to Berlin, Brussels, perhaps Paris.
Oh, the times Ive spent at Chequers. Cazalet laughed. I used to love that place. Ive been asked to put in an appearance at the UN myself but I imagine you knew that.
Yes, I cant deny it, Ferguson said.
I expected nothing less from the commander of the British Prime Ministers private army. Isnt that what they still call you people in the death trade? He smiled. Youll stay the night, of course, and accept a lift in my helicopter to New York tomorrow?
Thats more than kind, Ferguson said.
Lightning flickered on the horizon, thunder rumbled, it started to pour with rain. Another stormy night, said Cazalet. Lets get up to the house for the comforts of a decent drink, a log fire, and the turkey dinner Mrs Boulder has been slaving over all afternoon.
Thats the best offer Ive had in a very long time, Ferguson said.
In you get, then. Cazalet smiled. Lets see if we can reach the point where Ive flattered you sufficiently that you can tell me why youve really come to see me.
The dinner was everything Cazalet had promised. The coffee and port were served, Murchison steamed on the rug in front of the fire, and Dalton sat at the end of the small bar by the archway to the kitchen at his usual state of readiness.
Well, its an interesting situation, Ferguson said. It concerns a man named Simon Husseini. He was born in Iran to a French mother, his father an Iranian doctor who died of cancer years ago. Husseini followed in his fathers footsteps, and his work on medical isotopes has saved thousands of lives.
Good for him, Cazalet said.
Yes. But as one of the worlds great experts in the field of uranium enrichment, his masters insisted that he extend his research into nuclear weapons research.
And he agreed?
No choice. Hes a widower, but his ancient mother is still alive and living with his 40-year-old daughter, whos an invalid. Theyre under house arrest in Tehran.
Cazalet was not smiling now. The suffering some people have to go through. So how do things stand?
Very badly. The word is he could be close to making a nuclear bomb, and, worse, one that is cheap and four times as effective as anything else on the planet.
Dalton looked startled, and Cazalet said, God in heaven. How sound is this information? Is there real substance to it, or is it just bogeymen stuff put out by the Iranians to frighten the pants off us?
Thats what weve got to establish, Ferguson said. One of our people has a connection with Husseini, very tenuous at best, but it provides the hope, rather slight at the moment, I admit, of my people touching base with him.
Then make it happen right this instant, General, before the whole damn world blows up in our faces.
Ferguson nodded. I thought youd say that, sir. In fact, as weve been talking, Ive already changed my mind about this trip. The UN committee is just going to have to get on without me. As soon as we get to New York tomorrow, Im heading straight back to London.
Very sensible, Cazalet said. And since itll be an early start, I think wed better close the shop and go to bed. But not before you tell me about this connection of yours
At the Holland Park safe house in London, Roper sat in his wheelchair in the computer room, drinking tea and smoking a cigarette, when Ferguson, wearing pyjamas and a dressing gown, called him on Skype.
There you are, he said. What time have you got?
Its four oclock in the morning in London, people tucked up in their beds, the sane ones anyway.
Ferguson said, Im at Jack Cazalets beach house on Nantucket. It sounds like the storm of the centurys outside trying to get in.
That must be interesting. How is the great man?
Not best pleased at the news I bore about Husseini. At least, he wants us to get moving on it right away. Some of the people Ive talked to seem not to want to believe it could even happen. I get an idea thats even the way the CIA sees it.
Roper said, I cant blame them, in a way. The possibilities are horrendous. No sensible person would want to face the kind of future that would bring. Did you tell him about
Yes. I mentioned Husseinis history as an academic ten years ago, when he was a professor at London University.
Where he met a certain Rabbi Nathan Gideon and his granddaughter, a young second lieutenant out of the Military Academy at Sandhurst named Sara Gideon. Who now works for us.
Correct. And Ive actually figured out how we can use her. Did you know that Husseini is due in Paris this Friday to receive the Legion of Honour?
No, I didnt. Thats a surprise, that hes being allowed out of Iran, Roper said. But maybe not. His work on medical isotopes has saved a great many lives, his mother is French from the Iranian governments point of view, the signal it sends letting him accept the award is: Look what nice people we are.
Except that theyve got his mother and daughter in Tehran under threat and they know Husseinis not the kind of man to let anything happen to them. Hes totally trapped, Ferguson pointed out. But still, there might be an opening. Thats why Im arranging for Sara to be on the guest list at the Élysée Palace. Shell stay at the Ritz, which is where Husseini will be.
Together with his minders, Roper said.
Of course. But Im betting there might not be as many of them as we might think. With his mother and daughter held hostage, theres no need. We have an asset at the Ritz named Henri Laval. He told me that when Husseini visited a year ago to lecture at the Sorbonne, he had only one man with him, a Wali Vahidi, who stayed with him in a two-bedroom suite.
Do I look him up or have you already done that? Roper asked.
Wali Vahidi, thirty years a policeman of one kind or another. Hes been Husseinis bodyguard for eight years, sees to his every need, more like a valet, but Id be wary of taking that too much for granted. He saw plenty of action in the war with Iraq and survived being wounded. He holds a captains rank in the military police, so he can look after himself.
What does Sara think of all this?
I havent told her yet, Ferguson said. I left a message to say Id be back for breakfast on Thursday morning, and that you and I would like to call in at 10.30. It would be interesting to get her grandfathers input, too, since he knew Husseini so well. You could also check with Colonel Claude Duval to see what kind of security French Intelligence is putting on Friday night at the Élysée Palace. Hes in London at the moment.
Is that all? Roper asked.
You have something to contribute?
Yes, I think she needs back-up. What do you think of sending Daniel Holley with her? Though wed have to find out where he is in Algiers or deep in the Sahara, for all I know.
Ferguson said, No. Those two enjoy what people of a romantic turn of mind describe as a relationship, and I dont want anything getting in the way of this serious business. I agree she should have back-up, though.
So whats the answer?
To send Dillon with her, of course. Goodnight, Giles, Im going back to bed for another hour or so, and he switched off.
At 6.30, Roper phoned Claude Duval, who was annoyed and showed it. Whoever you are, its too early and I dont want to know.
Its Roper, you miserable wretch. Did she say no last night, whoever she was?
Something like that. Duval laughed. What in hell do you want, Giles?
The Legion of Honour award to Simon Husseini at the Élysée Palace on Friday night. Will you be attending?
Should I? Duvals tone of voice had changed.
Sara Gideon will be there with Dillon.
Duval was completely alert now. What for?
Ten years ago, he was a friend of her grandfather, the famous Rabbi Nathan Gideon. Sara was just out of the military academy and met Husseini. Now she just wants to say hello to him if she gets a chance.
And Im supposed to believe that, mon ami?
Of course. Do you seriously expect her to persuade him not to return to Iran?
Of course not. Hed never leave his mother and daughter behind.
So Sara and Sean can turn up?
Yes, of course they can come, and whats more, Ill go myself, if only for the pleasure of meeting the divine Sara again.
Youre a diamond, Claude. Id kiss you on both cheeks if you were close enough.
Like hell you will. Duval laughed. Youre definitely up to something, Giles, and Ill find out if its the last thing I do.
Tony Doyle, back from military court duty at the Ministry of Defence on Thursday morning, didnt bother to change out of his uniform. He helped Roper and his wheelchair into the back of the van using the hydraulic lift, and they were turning into the drive of Highfield Court exactly at 10.30, to find Fergusons Daimler parked in the drive, the chauffeur at the wheel. The front door opened and Mrs Cohen appeared.
Major Roper, how are you? she asked, for they had become good friends.
All the better for seeing you, Sadie, he said as the two men eased the wheelchair into the hall.
Theyre waiting for you in the study, she said, opening the large mahogany door. In you go. Theyre on the coffee, but I know you like a decent cup of tea, so Ill go and get you one.
Roper felt the usual conscious pleasure on entering the beautiful Victorian library with the crowded bookshelves, the panelled walls and Turkish carpets, the welcoming fire.
Nathan Gideon was a wise man and looked it. He had a grey fringe of beard, white hair topped by a black velvet yarmulke, and he wore an old velvet smoking jacket that Roper had seen many times. He seemed to have stepped in from another age entirely.
He shook Ropers hand. You look well, Giles.
No, I dont. As usual, you are far too kind, Roper told him. We both know Ill never look anything like well again.
My dear boy, feeling sorry for ourselves, are we?
Of course. Roper produced some of his special painkillers and crunched them.
Sara, who had been sitting opposite Ferguson by the fire, stood up, poured a whiskey, and brought it to him.
Wash them down, Giles. She kissed him on the head and turned back to her seat.
She was wearing a one-piece flying suit and boots. Roper said, I must say you look terribly dashing in that gear.
Thats nice of you, she said. I just passed my practical navigation test doing a take-off while it was still dark. I cant tell you how wonderful it is as dawn breaks. Im grateful you arranged for me to learn to fly with the Army Air Corps, General.
I believe in people extending themselves, Ferguson told her. Maybe its to your advantage, but who knows when it could suit my purposes, too. He turned to Roper. Nathan and Sara and I were just discussing Husseini.
So whats your opinion? Roper asked the rabbi.
Simon is a fine doctor. His interest in matters nuclear fascinated him because of the medical possibilities, and that was what led him to his pioneering work on medical isotopes. Hes spoken of the awesome powers generated by nuclear energy as the Breath of Allah, which must surely have endeared him to Islamic opinion.