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I felt slightly relieved, but then they dropped the bombshell.

“There’s another reason he’s here. The oil company gives him the lawful reason, but we believe he’s here because of diamonds,” John told me.

It was as if the air conditioning had just been turned down to freezing.

“Diamonds?” I managed to ask, my voice breaking slightly.

“Not that long ago, a British mercenary was hired by persons unknown to steal diamonds from a small African nation’s embassy here. No one knows who hired him, but it’s suspected that there are powerful friends of the ex-president of the African country who want to reverse the result of a coup. Anyway, it seems the Brit was successful, but went and got himself caught once he'd spirited the diamonds away. There was a huge outcry at the time, but then, despite being a shocking lack of hard evidence, he was found guilty and sentenced to death. He died a few months ago in front of a firing squad, taking the secret of the diamonds’ location to his grave. It seems that these diamonds were underpinning an arms deal worth billions for both the Chinese and Vietnamese, while the African government was depending on the deal to support the coup that brought them to power. Without them, they remain vulnerable, particularly as all the promises of new wealth and prosperity have failed to materialise,” Trevor told me.

“How does that involve Carl?”

“Many interested parties, including national governments, are extremely interested in acquiring the diamonds, for they must be in the public domain. And yes, he does have a post at the university in Wellington as well, but we believe his main role is tracking down anyone who may have any clue as to the diamonds.”

“Why’s he talking to me?” I asked.

“Diversion, we think he’s finding it more difficult than he suspected, so is taking some time out to enjoy himself.”

“So who is he actually working for?” I asked, thoroughly confused.

The two men looked at each other.

“He holds a post at the university, and is contracted as a consultant geologist to an oil company, but we suspect his employer as far as the diamonds are concerned is the New Zealand government.”

“Suspect?”

“There’s no proof that he’s after them, just a hunch by our intelligence unit,” Trevor said.

“You mean he’s a government secret agent?” I asked.

“He’s a specialist, but in a way, I suppose he is, yes.”

“Being a New Zealander, isn’t he on your side?”

“Not necessarily, as we have very different agendas.”

“Does he know that you’re here?”

“No, and we don’t want him to. Our focus is on illegal trafficking, while he’s a completely different agenda. His activities may ruin our operation, so we want to keep away from him.”

“Why was he at Pho’s?” I asked.

“There was a British Embassy official called Lumsden who was the only man to visit the British merc in jail. It seems he’s a thick as thieves with Pho’ so our guess is that Carl wanted to check him out.”

“This merc you keep talking about, has he a name?”

“His name was Robert Carlisle and he’d been a Captain in the British army. He was cashiered when he failed to obey an order relating to the diamonds at the African mine during the coup. He also saved the lives of the fleeing president, his family and thousands of civilians.”

“Why did they sack him?” I asked.

“Because he was going against the current British Government policy. He caused them some embarrassment. You see, the new government was promising more contracts to British companies, whereas the existing one was in bed with the Americans. It came down to money, and so Carlisle was just out of step.”

“It sounds to me that he was right, and that his sacking was grossly unfair,” I said.

“Sure it was, but whoever said life was fair?” asked Trevor.

“So why didn’t the international community speak up to support this Carlisle?” I asked, feeling angry.

“Probably because everyone was looking for their own angle and were just pleased that they weren’t involved,” John added.

“Who was he working for, this Carlisle guy?” I asked.

“No one knows. There’s speculation that he was working for the exiled African president, but no links have been found. They kept him in prison for ages, just to see if they could get him to talk. He said nothing, not even admitting having stolen the diamonds, let alone who’d put him up to it. When he died, the secret of their location died with him.”

I decided that it wouldn’t do to get too angry, so I relaxed and told the men that I wanted to shower. They left, thanking me for my help and told me that they would be in touch.

I was just about to step into the shower when my phone rang.

“Hello?” I cautiously asked, sort of hoping it was Carl.

“Hi Julianna,” it was Harvey.

“Oh, it’s you. What’s up?” I asked.

“Hey, you don’t sound that pleased to hear from me. I just wanted to thank you for last night.”

“Oh, why?”

“You put me onto a good thing.”

“Good for you, is that all?”

“Nope, I’m picking you up in half an hour, someone wants to see you, and she thinks it’s time to extract you.”

“Let me guess,” I said, but he chuckled and hung up.

Half an hour later, still without having a shower, I was in the back of a darkened four-by-four being driven by a bespectacled Vietnamese with Harvey sitting beside him. Harvey had checked me out and paid the bill, on behalf of the UNC agency. I had wanted to say goodbye to Carl, but never got the chance.

“Say nothing, okay?” was all he’d said to me as I met him at the hotel entrance.

Nodding, he opened the rear door and allowed me to slip onto the back seat. I glanced out of the window as the car hurtled through a myriad of back streets, I lost my sense of direction, but we were heading out of the city into the rural countryside. The car was big and comfortable, so I almost dropped off at one point. Eventually, the car pulled into the grounds of a substantial country estate. I glanced at my watch; we’d been travelling for almost an hour.

The car came to a halt by the front door of a large house and Harvey alighted, opening my door in the process. I got out. He glanced my way and smiled slightly, shaking his head. I was wearing a summer dress that was cut to make the most of what I had and to disguise that my shape was not as perfectly feminine as it should or could have been.

The car drove away and he took my arm. I glanced at him.

“I can make it without help,” I said.

He dropped my arm and smiled.

“Sorry.”

“You didn’t want to help me in New York,” I reminded him.

“I kinda find it hard to see you as the same person,” he said, as we entered the house. There was a large white guy standing just inside the door. Although wearing jeans and a tee shirt, the MP6 in his hands made him look more efficient. I guessed he was another ex-US military, which was confirmed as he nodded at Harvey and glanced my way, staring first at my breasts and then the rest of me. I stared back making him drop his gaze. I found I liked the attention, but was frustrated about everything else.

The house was a single story villa, obviously a rich man’s retreat or the property of a colonial planter in more enlightened days. Cool corridors with many house plants gave way to a broad veranda overlooking a tranquil garden. A figure rose from a chair as we entered. It was Maryanne.

“Well, hello stranger, how are you?” she asked before surprising me by embracing me.