The Judas Gate by Jack Higgins Read Free Book Online

involved—they’d all taught him a great deal about human nature. He knew what made people tick, how to handle them, and most important of all, what made people afraid.
    To run the London operation for Al Qaeda required brains and organizing ability. When it came to necessary violence, he only had to make a call to bring in whoever was best for the job. An inner circle of twenty stood ready to act.
    The beauty of it was that not one of them knew Hassan—they connected by encrypted mobiles only. Shah remained just a voice on the phone: the Preacher.
    Yes, it all worked extremely well.
    ‘Let’s see what we can do about this,’ he murmured softly, and he made a call.
    * * *
    Selim Lancy was the result of a mixed marriage. His father, a sailor, had insisted he be baptized Samuel, then gone back to sea, never to return. So his mother had made it Selim, the Muslim equivalent, and raised him in the faith. He never tried to pretend he wasn’t Muslim, and was particularly handy with his fists when he joined the army, 3 Para, where he endured three hard years in Iraq and Afghanistan, rising to the rank of Corporal. His service ended with one bullet through his left side and another in the right thigh.
    He passed through the rehabilitation centre, where doctors put him together very nicely, but the army decided that enough was enough and he was discharged.
    He returned home, and moved in with his mother, who was still fit and well at first, then started to attend the mosque again. He was surprised at the respect everyone gave him, and then realized why—when overtures were made suggesting that, as a good Muslim, he could serve Al Qaeda well. The idea appealed to him, just for the hell of it; for the truth was, he was anything but a good Muslim.
    He made a living as a hired driver now. Sitting behind the wheel of a silver Mercedes, handsome enough in a dark blue suit and regimental tie, he was eating a chicken sandwich when his special mobile sounded.
    ‘Where are you?’ Shah asked.
    ‘Oh, it’s you, boss. I’m at the back of Harrods, waiting for a customer. I’m sitting behind the wheel of my new car—a second-hand Mercedes. My compensation money from the army finally came through.’
    ‘Well, that’s nice for you,’ Shah told him.
    ‘I haven’t heard from you for a while. Is this a business call?’
    ‘You could say that. I want you to check on a man called Selim Malik. He’s an art dealer with a place in Shepherd Market.’
    ‘What’s he done?’
    ‘He could be showing an unhealthy interest in rumours of British Muslims serving with the Taliban in Afghanistan.’
    ‘They’re not bleeding rumours, they’re facts, boss. I should know. I probably killed a few of them over there.’
    ‘That isn’t the point. I want to know if he’s actively investigating these stories. Check with other Muslims in the market; see what you can find out. No rough stuff. He’s precious cargo.’
    ‘Why’s that, boss?’
    ‘He knows things and he’s got a friend named Daniel Holley, who’s a killer of the first order. He may look Malik up. If he does, you must let me know at once. I’ve found a security photo of Holley. You’ll find it on line now.’
    Lancy thumbed away at his mobile and Holley appeared. ‘He doesn’t look much to me, boss.’
    ‘Don’t go by looks, idiot. Holley’s a nihilist. That’s someone who believes nothing has any value and so he kills without a second of regret. That includes you.’
    ‘I’ll bear it in mind. When do you want this?’
    ‘A couple of days. Do what you can.’
    Shah hung up. Now, he thought, what to do about Shamrock. He’d been shocked to hear the name from Hakim. He checked his watch. The stupid bastard was still up thereat thirty thousand feet for at least another couple of hours. Better to wait and try to contact him at the Talbot office. He got up from the bench and walked quickly across the campus towards the university buildings.
    At that same moment, Shamrock was