‘Nobody helped me,’ he said. He had to stick to that line at all costs. He had to buy as much time as possible for Stefano to get away, or he would go the same way as Cooper-ffrench.

Ugo smiled and ran a hand through the bristly stubble of his white hair. ‘I will get this information,’ he said. ‘I have a way. I am going to take you hunting. Do you like hunting?’

James shrugged.

‘Never mind,’ said the Count. ‘It doesn’t matter. Because in this hunt you are not going to be the hunter, you are going to be the prey.’ He smiled. ‘But it will not be a very fair hunt, I’m afraid.’

‘That doesn’t surprise me,’ said James. ‘I know how you like to cheat.’

‘I am going to tie you to the ground,’ said Ugo. ‘As bait. But what animal is going to hunt you down? Hmm? Do you know?’

‘No,’ said James sullenly.

‘It is the deadliest animal in the world,’ said Ugo. ‘Do you know what that is? Are you thinking of maybe a tiger? No. Not the tiger. A few men are killed each year by tigers, but not that many; the same with lions. What about crocodiles? Again, no: only a handful of victims. Maybe snakes? It is true that there are some truly deadly snakes in the world, but not in Sardinia. A spider, perhaps? No. The creatures that are going to attack you are the worst of all. They kill millions of people every year.’

Ugo went to the door and his guard opened it. ‘Think about it, James, think about what this creature might be, and maybe later you will feel more like talking. In some ways, though, I hope that you do not tell me straight away,’ he said. ‘Because I am going to enjoy seeing you suffer. My life here is sometimes boring. A little sadism before supper will give me an appetite. Come, Smiler.’

The two men left and James was once more alone.

He put his hand in his pocket and felt something. He pulled it out. It was the silver ring that Jana had given him. He looked at it, turning it in his battered fingers.

There was something not quite right about it, but before he could work out what it was, the light was switched off and he sat there in the dark, fondling the ring and brooding.

Some time later – it could have been an hour, it could have been two hours, James had no way of knowing – he had another visitor.

It was Zoltan the Magyar, who had brought him some food.

‘James!’ he said, tossing him some bread and a hunk of cold pork. ‘Always getting into trouble. What are we going to do with you?’