‘Looks like a security light on a timer,’ whispered Patrick. ‘There’s some kind of watch over this place even if it’s been left to rot.’ The doors opened easily; they stepped inside, as if drawn to the light. The far end where the platform stood was dark. ‘What was that?’

‘What?’

They turned. The doors they’d come through had closed.

‘Did you close them?’ she asked.

Piercing lights from the barn’s two front corners burst out, blinding them. Instinctively, they covered their eyes with their hands. A key turned noisily in a lock. They opened their eyes. Nothing. No movement. No sound.

Footsteps echoed from beyond the far wall, slowly growing louder and nearer. Three chairs had been placed in the middle of the illuminated platform. A door behind opened and a silhouetted figure entered, stepped onto the platform and walked to its front. Stepping into the pool of light, the figure stretched its hands out.

‘You came here to hunt down the dead. Instead you find the living.’ A deep male voice in a precise English accent.

Sara closed her eyes again, not wanting to believe it, however much she now knew it. She felt no panic, no jumping of the heart; instead a numbing confirmation of some huge deception.

‘Hello, Kareem,’ she said softly.

‘Kareem was killed in a drone strike.’

‘This isn’t a game, Kareem,’ said Patrick.

‘Hello, Sara. Hello, Patrick.’

Patrick strode across the long barn’s floor towards him. ‘Please halt,’ said Kareem with a show of quiet politeness.

A burly, roughly shaved man with coarsely brushed, thick grey hair, a large knife deliberately showing from his belt, appeared from nowhere to block Patrick’s path. ‘I believe, Patrick,’ said Kareem, ‘you were never introduced to Aaqil.’ Sara, watching them, instinctively thought back to the unidentified person at the restaurant table. The only difference was the black hair now turned grey.

Kareem moved alongside the two men now facing each other and lowered his voice. ‘Do not try anything, Patrick. He would cut you to pieces without a moment’s thought – and with great pleasure.’

Kareem turned away; Aaqil nodded from Patrick to Sara and then to the chairs on the platform where he was heading.

‘Come,’ said Kareem, ‘join me. I mean you no harm. You are my guests.’ He directed them to two of the chairs and sat down in the third.

‘How did you know, Kareem?’ asked Patrick.

‘Are you still as naive as you always were, Patrick? Did you not see that your movements yesterday were being observed? A man entering this world must learn how to look over his shoulder. Now, if you will allow me. You have come far with your investigation. But enough. It is over.’

‘It’s never over, Kareem,’ said Sara.