The Death Trade. Jack Higgins

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 I’ve 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 didn’t. That’s a surprise, that he’s 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 government’s point of view, the signal it sends letting him accept the award is: Look what nice people we are.’

      ‘Except that they’ve got his mother and daughter in Tehran under threat and they know Husseini’s not the kind of man to let anything happen to them. He’s totally trapped,’ Ferguson pointed out. ‘But still, there might be an opening. That’s why I’m arranging for Sara to be on the guest list at the Élysée Palace. She’ll stay at the Ritz, which is where Husseini will be.’

      ‘Together with his minders,’ Roper said.

      ‘Of course. But I’m betting there might not be as many of them as we might think. With his mother and daughter held hostage, there’s 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. He’s been Husseini’s bodyguard for eight years, sees to his every need, more like a valet, but I’d 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 captain’s rank in the military police, so he can look after himself.’

      ‘What does Sara think of all this?’

      ‘I haven’t told her yet,’ Ferguson said. ‘I left a message to say I’d 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 grandfather’s 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. He’s 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 we’d 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 don’t want anything getting in the way of this serious business. I agree she should have back-up, though.’

      ‘So what’s the answer?’

      ‘To send Dillon with her, of course. Goodnight, Giles, I’m 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, it’s too early and I don’t want to know.’

      ‘It’s 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?’ Duval’s 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 I’m supposed to believe that, mon ami?’

      ‘Of course. Do you seriously expect her to persuade him not to return to Iran?’

      ‘Of course not. He’d never leave his mother and daughter behind.’

      ‘So Sara and Sean can turn up?’

      ‘Yes, of course they can come, and what’s more, I’ll go myself, if only for the pleasure of meeting the divine Sara again.’

      ‘You’re a diamond, Claude. I’d kiss you on both cheeks if you were close enough.’

      ‘Like hell you will.’ Duval laughed. ‘You’re definitely up to something, Giles, and I’ll find out if it’s the last thing I do.’

      Tony Doyle, back from military court duty at the Ministry of Defence on Thursday morning, didn’t 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 Ferguson’s 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.

      ‘They’re waiting for you in the study,’ she said, opening the large mahogany door. ‘In you go. They’re on the coffee, but I know you like a decent cup of tea, so I’ll 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 Roper’s hand. ‘You look well, Giles.’

      ‘No, I don’t. As usual, you are far too kind,’ Roper told him. ‘We both know I’ll 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.’

      ‘That’s nice of you,’ she said. ‘I just passed my practical navigation test doing a take-off while it was still dark. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is as dawn breaks. I’m 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 it’s 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 what’s 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. He’s spoken of the awesome powers generated by nuclear energy as the Breath of Allah, which must surely have endeared him to Islamic opinion.’

      ‘I’m sure it did,’ Ferguson agreed.

      ‘However,