'You know who she is, this woman? Where to find her?'

'Her name is Violet Hamilton. She's twenty-two years old, unmarried. For the last three years she's been caring for her sick grandmother. The old lady died two weeks ago. At present she's living alone in her grandmother's house in Camden, where the khanjar was found. The equity of the house is owned by a property company, however, so she is about to become homeless.'

Fayad raised an eyebrow and the ambassador smiled. 'I don't ask how he does it, but in any exchange of

information you can be sure that our man came out with the better deal.'

'Thank him for me.'

'I will' Then, 'You'll make her an offer for it? You know it can't be real, Fayad. The original was surely broken up for the gold, the stones, decades ago.'

'Princess Fatima would never have done that. She knew that its worth lay in more than rabies and gold. Knew its power in the right hands. But, real or fake, it's a bad time for it to come to light. There are tribal factions who will move heaven and earth to get hold of it.'

Because of the reclusive nature of his grandfather, and the lack of interest his father had shown in anything but money, Ras al Kawi had remained relatively untouched by the tide of offshore banking and tourism that had swept through neighbouring countries.

Fayad had such plans for it, and now, just when things were finally beginning to take shape and he was preparing to move the country into the twenty-first century, onto the international stage, he was being faced with some mystical symbol straight out of a medieval melodrama.

It couldn't just be coincidence.

This had to be some elaborate hoax set up by someone planning to seize power. Except for the story of the runaway princess. And yet, for power, some disaffected member of the family might have betrayed them. Even his disinherited father…