Karim shrugged his narrow shoulders. ‘I did. Now I’m not so sure. A poor old man like me, with nobody to look after him, who has to work until he drops dead, he is always looking for a place where he’ll be well treated. They were kind to me here. I don’t like to see it in such a state. You see what those filthy dogs have done? As if they haven’t done enough harm already.’

Ben said, ‘A man called Aziz Qeyami works here. Do you know him?’

‘Aziz? Yes, of course. He’s a decent and honourable man.’

‘Then perhaps you know my friend too. Her name is Madison Cahill. Black hair, green eyes, slim, late thirties or thereabouts?’

Recognition showed immediately on Karim’s wrinkled face. ‘The American woman who was here. Yes, yes. I remember.’

Suddenly, Ben was back on the trail and he could feel the drumbeat of the chase thumping in his veins. ‘When did you see her last?’

Karim shook his head and looked sad. ‘Not since many days ago. She is gone. They’re all gone.’

‘They went together?’

‘Yes, yes. Too dangerous for them here in Kabul. Your friend, and Aziz, and Ramin too.’

Ramin was a new name to Ben. ‘Did they say where they were going?’

‘Away from the city. To somewhere safe. That’s what they said. But nowhere is safe. Things are very bad. The Taliban are killing many people. An American woman in Afghanistan, especially one so young and beautiful …’ Karim pursed his lips and held back from saying more. ‘Very bad,’ he repeated.

‘Please, Karim. It’s important that you tell me anything you know. Anything they might have said about where they were going. I want to help keep them safe, but time is running short.’

‘Who are you?’

Karim shook his head again. Ben could tell that the old man was hesitant to give away too much to a stranger, especially one who was obviously not quite above board and perhaps not to be trusted. In an extremist regime whose martial rulers were mercilessly butchering anyone who helped the hated western powers in any way, his reticence was hardly surprising. ‘It will be our secret,’ Ben said. ‘Nobody needs to know that you and I ever met or spoke. Do you understand, Karim? I have to find her and get her out, or they will murder her. Your friends Aziz and Ramin too, and anyone else who went with her. You said yourself, nobody is safe.’

The old man looked toward the dusty window and swept an arm as though he was motioning towards the mountains. ‘They are gone far away. Or I hope so for their sake, inshallah. Many have tried and failed to get out of Kabul. The Taliban are everywhere.’

‘You know the name of the place?’

Karim nodded slowly. ‘They are gone to find Zakara.’