‘You mean back into the frying pan. What you’re proposing sounds a lot like the fire.’

‘I told you – ’

‘You haven’t told me anything; you’ve just spouted vague threats. Appeal to my intelligence, Feisal. Give me two – hell, I’ll settle for one – good reason why I should accept your offer.’

Feisal groaned. We sounded like a pair of sick dogs.

‘I was told to show you this.’ He opened his briefcase and took out a piece of paper.

There was no writing on it. It was a piece of plain black paper ahout eight inches square.

I felt the blood drain slowly out of my face, staring with my brain and backing up in my vocal cords. All I could do for a few seconds was gurgle horribly. Finally I managed to clear my throat. ‘Who gave you this? Larry? Max?’

‘Who’s Max?’ Either he was honestly bewildered or he could have given drama lessons to Sir Laurence Olivier.

‘He cuts silhouettes,’ I mumbled, staring at the piece of black paper. ‘For a hobby. His other hobbies are fraud, theft and murder. Art and antiquities, those are his specialties. I thought he was in jail! I helped put him in jail! How the hell did he . . .’

I shoved my chair back and stood up. ‘I’ve got to get Schmidt out of there. If Max is one of them . . . Oh, Christ, of course, it has to be him! He was careful to keep out of my way, but I should have known, he was obviously wearing a wig the first time I . . .’

I wasted time fumbling under the table for my purse before I remembered I didn’t have it. Feisal grabbed my arm as I started blindly for the street.

‘Hold on a minute. You don’t have money for a cab.’

‘I’ll tell him to wait. Just long enough for me to collect Schmidt and my purse.’

‘I’ll come with you. Wait a second.’

He tossed a few bills onto the table and picked up his briefcase without relaxing his grip on me. I pulled away from him, and he said, ‘I sense you are now convinced of the danger. Come with me to the place I mentioned.’

‘Not without Schmidt.’

There were several decrepit-looking vehicles lined up in front of the hotel. I opened the door of the first one – hoping it was a taxi – and got in. Feisal followed me.

‘I’ll go back for him after I’ve taken you – ’

‘No, you won’t. Driver!’

Feisal enveloped me in a rib-cracking embrace and rattled off a string of directions to the driver. I didn’t understand a word, but I was pretty sure he had not given the order I would have given. I tried to free myself. ‘Let me go, damn you!’

‘Certainly,’ said Feisal, unwrapping his arms. I fell back against the seat and he socked me on the jaw.

* * *