Edge of Danger

Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2001

Copyright © Harry Patterson 2001

Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2015

Cover photograph © Nick Meers/Images Colour Library

Harry Patterson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008124908

Ebook Edition © August 2015 ISBN: 9780008159115

Version: 2015-07-30

To Tess, who thinks it’s about time…

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

IN THE BEGINNING

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

LONDON COUNTY DOWN, NORTHERN IRELAND

Chapter 3

MANHATTAN LONDON WEST SUSSEX WHITE HOUSE

Chapter 4

NANTUCKET

Chapter 5

LONDON

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

HAZAR

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

LONDON THE THAMES

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

DAUNCEY PLACE

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

EPILOGUE LONDON

About the Author

ALSO BY JACK HIGGINS

Further Reading

About the Publisher

Paul Rashid was one of the richest Englishmen in the world. He was also half Arab, and few people could tell you which influence most ruled his heart.

Paul’s father had been the leader of the Rashid Bedouin in the province of Hazar, in the Persian Gulf, and a soldier by both birth and tradition. Sent as a young man to the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst, he had met Lady Kate Dauncey, the Earl of Loch Dhu’s daughter, at a formal dance there. He was wealthy and handsome and, despite the obvious problems, it was a love match, and so, despite the initial misgivings of both sets of parents, they had married, Paul’s father travelling back and forth between England and the Gulf as necessary. Over the years they had produced four children: Paul, the eldest, Michael, George and Kate.

The children were intensely proud of both sides of their family. In deference to their illustrious Omani past, they all spoke fluent Arabic and were Bedu to the heart, but as Paul Rashid would say, their English half was just as important, and they fiercely guarded the Dauncey name and their heritage as one of England’s oldest families.

The two traditions flowed together in their blood, the medieval British and the Bedouin, producing a general fierceness that was most remarked upon in Paul, and was perhaps best epitomized by an extraordinary incident that occurred when Paul was himself about to pass out of Sandhurst. He’d just gone home for a few days’ leave. Michael was eighteen at the time, George seventeen and Kate twelve.

The Earl was away in London and Paul had gone down to Hampshire and found his mother in the library of Dauncey Place with a badly bruised face. She had reached to hug him and it was Kate who’d said, ‘He punched her, Paul. That awful man punched Mummy!’

Paul turned to Michael and said carefully, ‘Explain.’

‘Travellers,’ his brother told him. ‘A bunch of them moved into Roundhay Spinney with four caravans and some horses. Their dogs killed our ducks and Mother went to speak to them.’

‘You let her go alone?’

‘No, we all went, even Kate. The men laughed at us, and then when Mother started shouting at them, their leader, a large man, very tall, very aggressive, punched her in the face.’

Paul Rashid’s own face was very pale, the eyes dark, as he stared at Michael and George. ‘So, this animal laid hands on our mother and you let it happen?’ He slapped them both. ‘You have two hearts. A Rashid’s and a Dauncey’s. Now, I will show you how to be true to both.’

His mother grabbed his sleeve. ‘Please, Paul, no more trouble, it’s not worth it.’

‘Not worth it?’ His smile was terrible. ‘There is a dog here who needs a lesson. I intend to give him one,’ and he turned and led the way out.

They drove to Roundhay Spinney in a Land Rover, the three boys. Paul had forbidden Kate to come, but after they left, she saddled her favourite mare and followed anyway, galloping across country.

They found the caravans parked in a circle, with a large wood fire in the centre, and a dozen or so men and women grouped around it, along with several children, four horses and dogs.

The large man described by the two younger boys sat on a box by the fire drinking tea. He looked up as the three young men approached.