The Death Trade. Jack Higgins

      ‘Tell the barman that, for this time only, we’ll do it for free.’

      Jacko got up. ‘Be my guest.’

      Dillon sat down, nodded at the trio, and smiled at Sara. ‘Show them what you’ve got, I’ll do the intro strong, just so you get used to it.’ He turned to the trio. ‘You get that, guys? Then we’ll do it again with her joining in. Just remember, Sara, the hero of Abusan can do anything.’

      His hands moved into the driving rhythm of Cole Porter’s ‘Night and Day’, and as Sara swept in powerfully, people in the audience started to clap. The outside door swung open with a crash. Yousef Khan stumbled, fell on his knees, and then turned and grabbed at Declan Rashid, pulling himself up.

      ‘What’s going on, and why is that silly bitch making such a row?’

      Declan said, ‘Remember your manners. We’re leaving now.’

      Yousef slapped him in the face, snarling, ‘You stupid Bedu peasant, why don’t you stumble out of here and find some goats to milk?’

      Sara, who had stopped singing, moved close to him, followed by Dillon. ‘The only one getting out of here is you, you piece of camel dung,’ she told Yousef in Farsi.

      He pulled away from Declan and tried to grab her. Immediately, a Colt .25 was in her right hand and rammed up under his chin. A warrant card was produced from her left pocket and held high for the audience to see.

      ‘Do I have to arrest him, Colonel, or can you persuade him to go? I’m an officer of the Security Services.’

      Rasoul appeared in the open doorway, the ugly scarred face intimidating. ‘What’s going on?’

      Declan ignored him and said to her, ‘I’m sorry for this trouble.’

      ‘Not as much as he is,’ she said. ‘I believe he’s wet himself.’

      ‘Damn you, whore.’ Yousef’s drunken rage boiled over and he struggled to get at her.

      Declan pulled him around and shook him. ‘Control yourself, fool.’ Yousef spat in his face and Declan hit him very hard, a short and sharp punch, catching him as Yousef’s eyes rolled and he started to slide.

      Rasoul was outraged. ‘How dare you do that? His father shall hear of it.’

      ‘I’m frightened to death,’ Declan told him and shoved Yousef into the big man’s arms. ‘Get him out of here, put him in my car, and wait for me.’

      Rasoul hesitated, then pulled Yousef up over his right shoulder, and Declan turned to Sara and Dillon. ‘You are a remarkable lady. I won’t forget you.’

      ‘Or we you, Colonel. That’s a mean right hand you’ve got there,’ Dillon told him. He grinned at Sara. ‘Ferguson ought to hire him.’

      ‘Your lesson may even do that young man some good,’ Sara said.

      ‘But you don’t think it will?’ He smiled. ‘I would agree with you completely, which is very sad for his family. But I must go. His father will be waiting impatiently to hear how badly he’s behaved this time. A habit, I fear.’

      He left, the door closed, and Sara turned to Dillon. ‘Let’s do it again. I don’t like disappointing such a good audience.’

      ‘Right on, honey,’ Jacko called. ‘And I do believe the barman is offering a free drink to everyone who stays.’

      ‘That clinches it.’ She turned and went to where the band was arranging itself, as the audience settled and Dillon eased behind the piano. He was smiling crookedly as he looked at her.

      ‘What’s that smile for?’ she said as she picked up her mike.

      ‘I enjoyed seeing you in action.’ He shook his head. ‘No wonder they gave you the Military Cross. Now let’s get down to business.’

      His hands slammed into the keys, fingers searching as he launched into that driving rhythm for the second time that night.

      They went up in the lift to Emza Khan’s apartment, Declan Rashid leading the way, Rasoul with Yousef draped around him. Emza Khan was sitting in a winged chair by the terrace window reading the Financial Times. He tossed it to one side and jumped to his feet.

      ‘What is it, what happened?’ He was totally dismayed.

      ‘Ask the Colonel,’ Rasoul said angrily. ‘The one who beat him.’

      ‘Is this true?’ Khan demanded.

      Declan had two main obligations in his life. One was to his country and its army, in which he had served so gallantly. The other was to the head of his extended family, which meant kissing the hand of Emza Khan and, by tradition, obeying him in all things. The truth was that his Irish half was finding it extremely difficult to follow such a path.

      He said to Khan, ‘Listen to this creature’s lies if you must, but Yousef behaved like a drunken sot, tried to attack a young woman who turned out to be an army officer. She had to draw a weapon on him, I took appropriate action and knocked him out. If you want to call in Dr Aziz to check him over, that’s your privilege.’

      Khan turned to Rasoul. ‘Get Aziz now. No more arguments, and take Yousef to his bedroom.’ Which Rasoul did. Khan carried on, ‘It is most unfortunate, the drinking. It’s a sickness, a known fact. I had great hopes for him.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘He was such a lovely boy. I was hoping to take him to Paris. What do you think?’

      ‘God help the chambermaids at the Ritz if you do. I’ve other things on my mind, like finding out who these people we were involved with tonight are. A name was mentioned, Ferguson. If he’s who I think he is, we need to know. I’ll borrow your office and computer to link into the embassy.’

      ‘Help yourself to what you need,’ Khan said. ‘We’ll speak later. I must check on Yousef.’

      He went out.

      As the cab turned a corner, Sara leaned against Dillon, eyes closed, and they stayed that way as she murmured, ‘Are we there? I need my bed.’

      ‘So I can see. Can you remember what happened?’

      Her eyes opened. ‘Sean, for your personal information, I like a drink, but never get drunk. So, yes, I remember everything, however improbable it appeared at the time.’

      ‘Colonel Declan Rashid and a rotten young bastard called Yousef Khan, do you recall them?’

      ‘Of course I do, and the Colonel was far more interesting. Why do you ask?’

      He got the door open for her. ‘I just wanted to remind you he’s the enemy.’

      She got out. ‘He joined the paratroopers at sixteen and jumped into action five times without any training. Why would anyone do that?’

      ‘Perhaps he had a death wish.’ Dillon smiled bleakly, followed her, and paid the driver, who drove away.

      Sara turned, found herself facing not her own front door but the Judas Gate in the entrance to Holland Park. Dillon opened it for her, pressing a button on his Codex.

      ‘What’s going on, Sean?’ she demanded.

      ‘Oh, I need to bring Roper up to date on what happened, and we’re not all that far from your place. You could have a steam for a while in the spa, even stay in the guest wing, or I can drop you home when I’ve spoken to Roper.’

      She sighed. ‘All right.’

      They crossed the courtyard and opened the front door, but were surprised to hear Ferguson’s voice echoing from the computer room.

      ‘I wonder what he’s doing here,’ Dillon said. ‘Do you want to face him?’

      ‘No, thanks, the steam room sounds fine.’

      ‘Okay, off you go. I’ll handle it.’

      She