She rubbed out the head and started again. “That’s it,” Dillon said.

She laughed. “A raven, Mr. Dillon,” and she went to the box again and got two crayons, one black, the other yellow, and finished the bird off.

“Red lightning in its claws,” Dillon told her.

When it was finished, she sat back. “Not bad.”

“Bloody marvelous.” Dillon folded it and put it in his pocket.

“Is it important?”

“I think it’s some sort of military crest. It might be a lead.”

At that moment, the door opened and David Braun and Aaron came in. “This way, if you please,” Aaron said. “Both of you.”

Braun led the way, Aaron following, and they found themselves standing before Judas again in his study.

“So there you are,” he said. “Had a nice chat?”

“All right,” Dillon said. “Let’s get on with it.”

“Okay, old buddy, this is how it goes. Nemesis comes up before the Future Projects Committee next week, and this time the President signs it.”

“Why should he?”

“Because if he doesn’t, I’ll execute his daughter here.”

There was a long pause before Dillon said, “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t fuck with me, Dillon, I know who she is.”

“And how could you?”

“I told you, I have Maccabees everywhere. MI5 in London, the CIA. Make a computer inquiry about me, for example, and one of my people will know. Anybody in intelligence will tell you it isn’t the big people you have to worry about, it’s the invisible people. The computer operators, filing clerks, secretaries.” He laughed. “So I know who she is and don’t ask me how.”

Marie de Brissac said, “My father will never sign this insanity.”

“Oh, I think he might be tempted. Cazalet has a lot of emotions wrapped up in you, Marie – love, guilt, a profound sense of loss, and missed opportunities. You are no ordinary hostage. And he can always invent a provocation by the Arabs. The CIA is good at that kind of thing, and we’ll be glad to help, of course. No, I think we can expect him to cooperate, after he thinks about it.”

Dillon said, “Now what?”

“You’ll be returned to Salinas. London and Ferguson next stop.” He opened a drawer and took out a mobile phone. “Latest model, old buddy, satellite-linked and untraceable. You can’t phone me, but I’ll phone you.”

“And why would you do that?”

“To prove my power. Let me explain. It would be understandable, once you’ve spoken to Ferguson, if he decided to check through British Secret Intelligence Service computer files for any reference to a terrorist group known as the Maccabees. If he does, I’ll know quicker than you can imagine, and I’ll phone to tell you. If Cazalet does the same through CIA records, I’ll know, and again I’ll phone you. This is just to demonstrate the power of the Maccabee organization. They’re everywhere, my invisible people. By the way, both inquiries will be a waste of time. There is no information about me or my organization anywhere.”

“So what’s the point of the exercise?”

“It demonstrates my total power in this matter, but let me get down to brass tacks. You’re going back in one piece. We’ll drop you in at Salinas. You’ll return to Ferguson and tell him that if Jake Cazalet does not sign Nemesis at the coming meeting of the Future Projects Committee, I shall execute his daughter.”

“You’re mad,” Marie de Brissac said.

“Tell Ferguson I don’t think it would be helpful for the Prime Minister to know this. You and he will proceed to the White House in Washington, where Ferguson should have no difficulty in obtaining an audience with the President.”

“I see,” Dillon said. “And we convey the message to the President?”

“Exactly, with this in addition. If any approach is made to involve the CIA or FBI or any military special forces, I will know, and – again – the countess will be executed at once. I’ve people everywhere, Dillon, as your inquiries and my phone calls to you will demonstrate.”

Dillon took a deep breath. “So what it comes down to is simple. Either Cazalet signs to put Nemesis into operation or she dies.”

“Exactly, old buddy, couldn’t have put it better myself.”

“But he won’t do it.”

“That’s too bad – too bad for the countess here.”

“You bastard!” Marie de Brissac told him.

Judas nodded to David Braun. “Get her out of here and back to her room.”

“Good-bye, Mr. Dillon, and God bless you. We won’t be seeing each other again. My father will never sign such a document,” Marie de Brissac said.

“Keep the faith, girl dear,” Dillon told her, and David Braun eased her out.

Dillon walked to the desk, helped himself to a cigarette, picked up Judas’s ornate lighter and flicked it on. He blew out smoke. “You might as well kill her now. Cazalet won’t sign. It’s too big.”

“Then you’d better persuade him.” Judas turned to Aaron. “Get Mr. Dillon on his way. Salinas next stop.”

Aaron spoke quickly in Hebrew. “He’s trouble, this one. You’ve seen his record.”

“Not for long. I’ll have him shot after he’s seen the President in Washington. It’s all arranged. A nice professional job. A street crime. You know Washington? People get mugged and shot all the time. I know the hotel where Ferguson always stays. The Charlton. Very unsafe, underground parking lots these days.”

“And Ferguson?”

“No, not him. Too important, and he could be useful.”

“And what’s that all about?” Dillon asked, having fully understood. “Have you changed your mind? Do I go over the side of the boat with twenty pounds of chain around my ankles?”

“I just love your imagination, old buddy. Now on your way.”

He put a cigar in his mouth and Aaron took the special mobile phone from the desk and ushered Dillon out.

On returning to his room, he found his jacket on the bed. “Cleaned and pressed,” Aaron told him. “You’ll find your wallet, cards, and passport and your own mobile phone so you can call Ferguson the moment you hit Salinas.” He held up the special mobile. “Your present from Judas. Don’t lose it.”

Dillon pulled on the jacket and put the mobile phone in a pocket. “Fuck Judas,” he said.

“A great man, Mr. Dillon. You will see just how great.” Aaron took a black hood from his pocket and said, “Now pull this over your head.” Dillon did as he was told and Aaron opened the door and took his arm. “We’ll go to the boat now,” and he led him out.

When the boat tied up at the jetty at Salinas, it was dark. Dillon checked his watch. It had taken around twelve hours and he had been drugged as before, but only for the first eight hours. When they took him up the companionway, it was dark and raining, silver rods driving down through the sickly yellow light of a lamp.

“Eight o’clock on a fine Sicilian evening, Mr. Dillon,” Aaron said, “and good old Salinas awaits you.”

“What a pleasure.”

“Good luck, Mr. Dillon,” Aaron said, and added rather surprisingly, “You’re going to need it.”

Dillon went over the rail and walked along the jetty through the rain. At the far end, he moved into a shelter, lit a cigarette, and watched the boat move out to sea, the red and green lights fading into the night. He took out his personal mobile phone and punched in Ferguson’s number at the Cavendish Square flat.

It was surprising how quickly he got a response. “Ferguson.”

“It’s me,” Dillon told him.

“Thank God.”

“They’ve dumped me back on the jetty at Salinas with a message for the President via you and me.”

“Is this as bad as it sounds?”

“Your worst nightmare.”

“Right. I’ll have Lacey and Parry leave Farley Field within the hour for Palermo. I’ll phone Gagini and get him to arrange transportation for you as soon as possible. Where will you be?”

“The English Café.”

“Just wait there.” There was a pause. “I’m glad you’re in one piece, Sean.”

Dillon switched off his phone. Surprise, surprise, he thought, sentiment from Ferguson.