Liam Casey lay there, wired up to life support. A male nurse was in attendance.

'I've got permission to try and speak to him,' Blake said.

'I don't think you'll get far, sir.'

Blake pulled a chair forward and Casey opened his eyes. For a little while, his voice proved surprisingly strong.

'I'm dying, aren't I, and you're the guy who shot me. The Basement man. Dillon's friend.'

'Look, what do I call you?'

Behind him, the President and the Colonel eased into the room.

'I don't suppose it makes any difference now. Casey – Liam Casey.'

'Where are you from?'

There was a little blood on Casey's mouth and the nurse wiped it away.

'Drumcree. County Down.'

Blake frowned. 'I've heard of Drumcree, but why do you call me the Basement Man, Dillon's friend?' "Cos I've seen your details in the file, your picture.'

'Which file?'

'The file Aidan prepared, the plan to do away with the President. Three million she promised when she saw us in Drumcree. She lied to Dillon, told him she was looking for protection for some business enterprise in Northern Ireland.'

The President said, 'What in the hell is going on?'

Blake waved him down and said to Liam, 'So Aidan is Aidan Bell and he was here and tried to shoot the President?'

'Shot me. I thought he'd finished me off. Left me to carry the can and cleared off.'

'How?'

'Underwater.' He seemed suddenly stronger. 'Fishing boat three miles out, then back to Long Island. They have a house. The Rashids have a house.'

'Just take it easy.' Blake soothed him. 'Why? Why would Paul Rashid want the President dead?'

'American Russian double agent called Gatov killed his mother, so he killed him. The Arabs tried to kill Rashid for some Yank and Russian oil people. He wanted revenge.'

'Only he didn't get it, did he? He failed?'

'That's all right. Alternative target.'

'What would that be?'

'Rashid said it would be his choice.'

Suddenly, he grimaced in pain and moved convulsively. The male nurse and the Colonel went in fast and Blake got out of the way.

'Please leave, gentlemen,' the Colonel asked.

In the lounge, the President said, 'For God's sake, what goes on?'

'Let me remind you, Mr President, of my conversation with Charles Ferguson not too long ago, concerning a trip Lady Kate Rashid made to County Down using Sean Dillon as her minder.'

When Blake went into the lounge a little while later, the President was drinking coffee, a frown on his face. He looked up. 'Well?'

'Casey's dead. I've spoken to Harper in the Communications Room. He's checking out the Long Island situation, the Rashids.'

Cazalet lit a Marlboro, got up, and paced around. 'It beggars belief. Rashid is one of the richest men in the world, an earl, a war hero, a friend of royalty. Who in the hell would believe it?'

'Nobody, Mr President, nobody in the wide world. Casey's dead, and what he said could easily be dismissed as the ramblings of a dying man. Right now, we've got nothing to use against Rashid.'

'But why is he so determined, Blake?' Cazalet asked.

'A lot of reasons, I suspect. The attempt on his own life, the death of his mother, the perfidy of the Sultan, his desire to rid Hazar of our influence. We're the Great Satan, don't forget that. He may be English, but that Bedu side – well, I wouldn't like to be alone with him in the desert.'

Cazalet said, 'All that money. It means nothing to him, does it?'

'It's just a tool of power. It lets him fly down there in a helicopter so that he can roam on a camel with his warriors. There's nothing more important to him.'

There was a long pause. Cazalet was about to speak when Blake's mobile rang. He answered, listened, then said, 'Fine, I'll get back to you.'

'Harper. The Rashids were in Quogue.'

'And?'

'Flew out of Westhampton four hours ago. Paul and Kate Rashid, and some man named Thomas Anderson.'

'Aidan Bell?'

'I'd say so. Destination Northolt RAF base.'

There was a long pause before Cazalet said, 'There's nothing we can do, is there?'

'To be frank, no, not at the moment. But I'll speak to Ferguson.'

'Right. Do that, then get to London yourself. I want you to coordinate everything with the Brigadier.'

'Actually, he's just been promoted. Major General now.'

'Really? I'm very glad. I'll speak to him myself before you leave, but for the moment, it's been a hell of a day, so let's get back to the house.'

On the Gulfstream, halfway across the Atlantic, the Rashids and Bell had a light meal of smoked salmon, salad and champagne.

Bell emptied his glass. 'So what next?'

'I'm thinking about it,' Paul Rashid told him.

'I've other problems in Hazar. I'll be in touch.' 'Well, don't leave it too long. In the meantime, I'll go back to Drumcree and check that things are in order, that the lads are behaving themselves.' 'I'm sure they are,' Kate Rashid said. 'They usually do. They don't like to upset me.' Aidan Bell tipped his chair back and closed his eyes. It had, after all, been a long day.

London At Cavendish Place, late that night, Ferguson sat with Dillon and Hannah Bernstein and went over the whole business. After hashing it out for hours, with no particular conclusion, Ferguson said, 'All right, so his personal hit man, this Aidan Bell, failed with Cazalet by a stroke of good fortune. I don't think they'll try him again now. So who's the alternative target?'

Hannah Bernstein said, 'As he seems to have it in for both the Americans and Russians, General, what about the Russian premier?'

'I can't see even Aidan Bell operating in Moscow,' Dillon observed.

'He wouldn't have to,' Ferguson said gloomily. 'The Premier is due in London on the seventeenth of next month. Trade talks with the Prime Minister.'

'I didn't know that, sir,' Hannah said.

'It isn't public knowledge, Superintendent. But that's only six weeks away.'

'So you think he could be the target?'

'How do I know? What do you think, Dillon?'

'It's a bit obvious.'

'So's Cazalet, if you think about it in hindsight. A wonderful thing, hindsight. Who else could it be?'

'Beats me,' Dillon said. 'So the best thing to do – is ask him.'

There was a stunned silence. Hannah Bernstein said, 'Ask him?'

Dillon turned to Ferguson. 'Brigadier…' He laughed. 'Sorry… General. In the past, you have talked about situations where they know that we know and we know that they know.'

True.'

'So let's push the good Earl a little. Make sure he knows we know and that we're on his case.'

Ferguson nodded. 'Not a bad idea. Maybe it'll shake something loose, make him a little incautious. Let's wait until Blake arrives in the morning, then we'll beard Rashid in his den, as it were.'

'Excellent,' Dillon said. 'And Aidan is back, we assume, in Drumcree. Let's make sure. Can you get people to check on that, Charles? Aidan Bell may be minus Liam Casey, but he's still got Tommy Brosnan, Jack O'Hara, Pat Costello – a whole crew of blackguards. Let's make sure they're all still in County Down.'

The following evening, the Rashids walked into the Piano Bar at the Dorchester to find Sean Dillon seated at the piano. He was wearing a dark blue suit and a Guards tie, and a cigarette drooped from the corner of his mouth, unlit.

Kate Rashid walked over to him, flicked her gold lighter and lit his cigarette. 'Is that better?'

'God bless you, ma'am, for the decent soul you are, and I'll forgive you, only because I love you dearly, for conning me over our Drumcree trip.'

'Conning you?'

'Absolutely. I know all about the good Aidan trying to stiff the President. Very naughty, Kate, very naughty indeed.'

She lit her own cigarette. 'Why, Dillon, I never knew you for a fantasist.'

'Oh, I'm a realist all the way, sweetness. Aidan Bell tried to finish off Liam Casey on Nantucket, only Casey had a Browning tucked inside his diving jacket and it turned the bullet. Of course, that still left him with a bullet in the belly.'