Everyone in the court fell silent as they waited for Hakim’s reply. Sebastian remembered from his mother’s libel trial that barristers seldom ask leading questions unless they already know the answer.

“There was one other occasion, Mr. Carman, but I confess I had forgotten all about it, perhaps because the charge was later withdrawn.”

“You had forgotten all about it,” repeated Carman. “Well, now you remember, perhaps you’d be willing to share with the court the details of why you were arrested on that occasion?”

“Certainly. I had closed a deal with the Emir of Qatar to finance the building of an airport in his country and, after the signing ceremony, the Emir presented me with a watch, which I was wearing when I arrived back in England. When I was asked to produce a receipt for it, I was unable to do so.”

“So you hadn’t declared it.”

“It was a gift from the head of state, Mr. Carman,” said Hakim, his voice rising. “I would hardly have been wearing the watch if I’d been trying to hide it.”

“And what was the value of that watch, Mr. Bishara?”

“I have no idea.”

“Then let me enlighten you,” said Carman, turning a page of his file. “Cartier valued the timepiece at fourteen thousand pounds. Or perhaps you’ve conveniently forgotten that as well?” Bishara made no attempt to reply. “What happened to that watch, Mr. Bishara?”

“Customs decided that I could keep it if I was willing to pay five thousand pounds import duty.”

“And did you?”

“No,” said Bishara, raising his left hand. “I prefer the watch my mother gave me on the day of my graduation from Yale.”

“Apart from thirteen ounces of heroin, what else did the customs officer find in your bag on the most recent occasion on which you were detained, Mr. Bishara?” said Carman, changing tack.

“The usual toiletries, a couple of shirts, socks … but then I was only staying for the weekend.”

“Anything else?” Carman asked as he penned a note.

“A little money.”

“How much money?”

“I don’t recall the exact amount.”

“Then let me once again refresh your memory, Mr. Bishara. According to Mr. Collier, he found ten thousand pounds in cash in your overnight bag.”

A gasp went up around the court. More than the annual income of most of those sitting on the jury, was Sebastian’s first thought.

“Why would a respectable banker, with an impeccable reputation, need to be carrying ten thousand pounds in cash in his overnight bag, when to quote you”—he once again checked his notes—“but then I was only staying for the weekend.”

“In Africa, Mr. Carman, not everyone has a bank account or a credit card, so the local custom is often to settle transactions in cash.”

“And I imagine that would also be the custom if you wanted to buy drugs, Mr. Bishara?”

Gray was quickly on his feet again.