‘If we can clean up the audio quality,’ he said to Thierry, ‘I’ll pay you two thousand euros. That’s on top of the thousand for what you’ve already done. Plus expenses. Make me a shopping list of whatever kit you need. I’ll see to it you have everything you want.’

Thierry shrugged. ‘I owe you for getting me out of the shit, but I won’t say I couldn’t use the cash. I’m flat broke and I’ve got to get out of Paris.’

‘We’ll take care of that. Meantime, you can lie low here. The Corsicans will never find you.’

‘I appreciate your help, chief.’

‘Just like old times,’ Ben said. ‘And there’s something else I need you to do for me.’

Across Paris, Nazim al-Kassar was preparing to meet with his elder superior, Ibrahim al-Rashid, in a few hours’ time when the old man’s plane landed. Nazim feared few things in this life, and even fewer people. But though he appeared outwardly calm, he was nervous about the meeting for which al-Rashid was flying in specially from his current base in Pakistan. It was a rare event for the venerable, wise Imam to leave his protected haven, underlining the critical importance of their plan. With so much at stake and the date of the shipment fast approaching, Nazim had a great deal on his mind.

Nazim’s driver in the silver Mercedes was an associate named Muhammad, as many were, in their different spellings. After leaving the woman’s apartment they had sped across the city to the expensive hotel where Nazim had a luxury suite under the false name of an Omani businessman called Khalil Alfazari.

Nazim had instructed Muhammad to wait downstairs in the lobby, and gone up to his room alone. The first thing he did upon entering the suite was to wash his hands very carefully and thoroughly. This was required after touching an infidel woman, for they were considered unclean in the sight of Allah and the dictates of Nazim’s faith strictly forbade him from taking part in prayer unless he were first cleansed.

Once that important duty was done, he had stripped off the tainted clothes that would not be worn again, and stepped into the marble shower. He’d washed himself all over and let the hot water pummel his broad, muscular shoulders as he reflected on his morning’s work. He was glad to have taken care of the Juneau woman personally. It would have taken only a snap of his fingers to have had one of his trusted associates do it for him, but Nazim believed strongly that cleansing the world of another filthy, shameless infidel whore would bring him closer to Allah. Moreover, she had posed a serious threat to their plans. Her elimination had been ordered without a second’s hesitation.