‘Can’t you guess? Max is a businessman, he hasn’t time for useless emotions like revenge – and that was what motivated the person who suggested the museum stunt. It sounded clever but there were a number of practical disadvantages, most particularly the difficulty of forcing a tricky devil like Johnny to go through with a job he doesn’t want to do. Max was well aware of that and would have been more than happy to see Johnny out of it. Unfortunately, his group resembles certain other illegal organizations in that it is family-oriented, and the sole surviving member of this particular family is . . . You’ve seen what she’s like. How easy do you suppose it was for Johnny, cooped up with that maniac day after day and night after night, listening to her obscene threats and knowing that if he laid a finger on her she’d retaliate on you?’

It was like hearing the other side of a long, hostile divorce case. Events that seem clear-cut and obvious from one person’s point of view take on an entirely different aspect when you hear the other guy’s version.

‘They got you onto that cruise,’ Feisal went on. ‘Some kind of faked message planted on the body of a dead operative – I never knew the details. Johnny had cut off communication with you as soon as he realized what he’d got himself into. Jen was already at risk simply because they knew who she was and where she was; if he hadn’t agreed to bring her along on the cruise as an unwitting hostage, they would have kidnapped her, or worse. He planned to get Jen away at some point during the cruise. Once she was safe, he could take care of himself. It never occurred to him that they’d bother with another hostage. I wonder if you can imagine how he felt that day at Giza when he saw you?’

I could imagine. I had seen his face.

He’d managed to get Jen out of their hands next day, improvising as only John could. And then Schmidt had turned up, and there were still two hostages. I remembered the consternation in his voice when he saw Schmidt at Amarna – and Mary’s smile. Of course she had known who Schmidt was. She had probably memorized every detail of my biography, especially the episode in which her brothers had been involved.

‘Why didn’t he tell me?’ I demanded.

‘They made sure he never had a chance to tell you. Both of you were under surveillance every minute of the day and night. As a lovesick young bride she had a perfect excuse to stick closer to him than a cocklebur, and when she wasn’t with him, Blenkiron or one of the others was with you.’