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Halim flicked through the pages of the Filofax.

‘If he’s lying, he’ll probably come up with the number when we record the video,’ said Shepherd. ‘We’ve made it clear that all we want is a contact number for his brother. Once we make the video we move it up a notch.’

Halim gave Shepherd the Filofax. ‘There is nothing in there for Wafeeq,’ he said.

‘I think he’s probably telling the truth,’ said Shepherd. ‘I don’t think he’s a hard-line Muslim. The house is Western and the daughter speaks good English, so I’m guessing she goes to an international school. Anyway, if he was hard-line he wouldn’t live in Dubai, which is relatively Western, and for Western read “decadent”.’

‘You think Wafeeq would resent his brother’s lifestyle?’ asked Muller.

‘That’s what I’m thinking,’ said Shepherd. ‘What do you think, Halim?’

‘It would be hard for a fundamentalist to remain close to someone with more liberal views,’ said Halim. ‘Even a brother.’

‘Which means we go to Plan B,’ said Muller.

‘I’m afraid so,’ said Shepherd. ‘And life is going to get complicated.’

‘I’ll come in with you,’ said Muller. ‘Halim can hold the fort here.’ He handed his transceiver to Halim and followed Shepherd into the house. Shepherd told Muller to wait in the kitchen and went upstairs to the master bedroom. Fariq was still sitting in the chair, his hands tied. The Major was by the bed and Shortt was at the window, peering through the curtains.

‘A word,’ said Shepherd to the Major, who followed him out of the bedroom, down the stairs and into the kitchen. Shepherd pulled up his ski mask and the Major did the same. Both men were bathed in sweat and had flecks of wool sticking to their cheeks. ‘There’s nothing for Wafeeq in the Filofax or the phone. I reckon he’s telling the truth.’

‘Okay,’ said the Major. ‘That means we do as we planned – take him away and make the video.’

‘We can’t leave the wife here,’ said Shepherd. ‘She’s as hard as nails. She’ll go straight to the cops.’

‘Not if she believes her husband will die.’

‘She knows we’re Brits and that we won’t chop his head off.’

‘She thinks we’re Brits, but she doesn’t know for sure. But who we are doesn’t matter. She’ll believe it’s a kidnap for ransom. It’s up to us to convince her that if she comes up with a ransom she’ll get him back. That’ll give us time to work on getting the brother.’

‘So we’re gambling on how much she loves him? For all we know she’d like nothing better than to have him out of the way. She’s a Muslim so she can’t divorce him, remember?’

‘So we take her too.’

‘And leave their daughter behind? You think she’s going to behave rationally? She’s a seven-year-old – and you’ll be leaving her with the old couple. Will they care about anything other than where next month’s salary’s coming from? If we take Fariq and his wife, who’s to say the old couple won’t just run off with the family silver? Or go running straight to the police? You see where I’m going with this, don’t you? The only way to make sure that the cops aren’t called in is to keep all five under wraps. And there’s no way we can get them all out of here.’

‘So we stay put, is that what you’re suggesting?’

‘We keep the husband in the bedroom, the wife and everyone else stay in the servants’ quarters under guard. That way they’re all together so no one panics. John stays outside and can tip us off if we have visitors. If anyone does call we let the old man answer the door and all he’s got to do is say that the family’s away and won’t be back for a few days. We make the video and keep them under wraps here. I know it’s not what we planned, but I don’t think we can risk splitting them up.’

The Major nodded thoughtfully as he considered what Shepherd had suggested. ‘Okay,’ he said eventually. ‘You’re right.’ He nodded at John. ‘Can you bring in the gear?’

Muller went back out to the car while Shepherd and the Major went back upstairs. Shortt had his gun levelled at Fariq’s chest.

As they walked into the bedroom, Fariq said, ‘Can I see my wife and daughter?’

‘Soon,’ said Shepherd, pulling his gun out of its holster.

‘You are Americans? British? Israelis?’

‘Don’t worry about who we are,’ said Shepherd. ‘Just do as you’re told.’

‘I don’t know where my brother is, you must believe me, but I am sure of one thing. He is not in Dubai.’

Shepherd gestured with the gun. ‘Shut up,’ he said.

Fariq opened his mouth to say something, but Shepherd pointed the gun at his chest. The man sagged in the chair, head bowed.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. The Major opened it and took a black nylon backpack from Muller. He unzipped it and pulled out an orange jumpsuit, which he tossed to Shepherd. Shepherd put the barrel of his gun under Fariq’s chin. ‘Listen to me carefully,’ he said. ‘We need you to put this on. Understand?’

‘What do you want?’ asked Fariq. ‘If you want money, I have money.’

Shepherd pushed the gun harder under the man’s chin. ‘We just want you to put this on. Do you understand?’

‘Yes.’

‘We have your wife, and we have your daughter, so please don’t do anything stupid.’ He untied Fariq’s hands and thrust the jumpsuit at him. ‘Now put it on.’

Fariq stood up, took off his pyjama jacket, then turned around as he slid off his trousers. The rolls of fat at his waist jiggled as he put on the jumpsuit. He turned back to zip it up. ‘Why are you doing this?’ he asked.

Shepherd reached over to touch the man’s hair. Fariq flinched. ‘Stay where you are,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’ He messed Fariq’s hair, then looked at the Major, who took a digital video-camera out of the backpack and went to Fariq.

‘Listen to me, and listen to me very carefully. I want you to identify yourself, and I want you to say what day it is. You are to speak in Arabic.’ The Major nodded at Shortt. ‘My colleague here speaks reasonable Arabic, but we will be showing the video to a native speaker before we send it on so if you say anything that I haven’t told you to say your family will suffer. Do you understand?’

Fariq nodded.

‘I’d like to hear you say that you understand,’ said the Major.

‘I understand,’ said Fariq.

‘So, you identify yourself, and you say what the date is. Use yesterday’s date. Yesterday’s date,’ he repeated. ‘Do you understand?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then I want you to say that you are in Iraq, that you have been kidnapped and that you will be killed within forty-eight hours if the Holy Martyrs of Islam do not release the civilian contractor called Colin Mitchell.’

Fariq began to tremble. ‘Please, you can’t do this to me,’ he said.

‘Do you understand what I said?’

Fariq nodded fearfully.

The Major gestured with the Glock.

‘Yes, I understand,’ said Fariq.

‘Repeat it to me, in English,’ said the Major.

‘I have been kidnapped in Iraq and I will be killed within forty-eight hours if the Holy Martyrs of Islam do not release the civilian contractor called Colin Martin.’

‘Colin Mitchell,’ said the Major. ‘His name is Colin Mitchell.’

‘Colin Mitchell.’

‘You are to say that in Arabic. And if you add anything – anything at all – your family will suffer.’

‘Who are you?’ said Fariq. ‘Why are you doing this? I know nothing about the Holy Martyrs of Islam. And I have never heard of this Colin Mitchell.’

‘Just do as you’re told,’ said the Major.

‘You can’t treat me like this. I’m not a terrorist – I’m nothing to do with what’s going on in Iraq. That’s why my family are here. We have made a new life in Dubai.’

‘Your brother is threatening to kill an innocent man. We are doing the same.’

‘But it’s nothing to do with me,’ wailed Fariq, tears welling in his eyes, ‘and it’s nothing to do with my family. My brother is like a stranger to me. Do you think he’ll care if you threaten me? If he’s a terrorist, like you say, he won’t stop what he’s doing because of me.’