The Arab chuckled. He poured more tea into Crazy Boy’s glass. ‘Simeon, one of my countrymen would like to meet you. There is a matter he wishes to discuss with you.’

Crazy Boy frowned. ‘And what would that matter be?’

The Arab scratched his beard and smiled apologetically. ‘I am afraid I am a mere middleman in this. He knows that I do business with you and thought that it might make you more comfortable if the approach was made through someone you know.’

‘You spoke to him about me?’ said Crazy Boy, his voice hardening.

‘He approached me, that’s all.’

‘He came here?’

The Arab shook his head as he fingered the beads of the misbaha. ‘It was at the mosque. Please don’t worry about this, he is a good man, a good Muslim, and he wanted to make the approach through me rather than to approach you direct because he did not want to cause you any offence.’

‘You told him that I send money to Somalia?’ Crazy Boy’s eyes flashed angrily. ‘This is not acceptable. I do business with you because I don’t want the world and his dog to know what I am doing. That is what I pay you for, privacy.’

The Arab waved his hands as if warding off an attack. ‘Please, no, do not misunderstand me. Of course I did not say anything about what passes between us. I would not stay in business for long if my tongue was as loose as that.’ He put a hand on Crazy Boy’s arm. ‘Brother, all that happened is that he spoke to me after prayers, and asked that I get you to contact him. It was a sign of respect that he did that. I know him and I know you. He merely asked that I pass on a request for a meeting. Our business was not discussed. Nor would I ever talk to anybody about what takes place here.’

Crazy Boy nodded. ‘OK. I’m sorry. Of course I trust you, how could we do this business without trust?’

‘Simeon, we Arabs also have many proverbs, one of which is this: “A foolish man may be known by six things: anger without cause, speech without profit, change without progress, enquiry without object, putting trust in a stranger and mistaking foes for friends.” I hope that by now you consider me a friend. I more than anyone understand that one should not put one’s trust in a stranger, but this man is not a stranger to me. I would trust him with my life. He is a good man and a good Muslim.’

‘But what does he want with me?’

‘To talk, Simeon. Just to talk.’ The Arab took a sip of his tea. ‘His name is Mamoud al-Zahrani. He is staying at the Hilton Hotel in Edgware Road.’

‘So I am summoned, is that it?’

The Arab smiled and shook his head. ‘Of course not, that’s not what I meant. He has a suite there and it’s a convenient place to meet, that’s all.’