Honour Among Thieves (24 page)

‘Magnificent,’
was all Tony’s father said as he began licking his lips.

‘Interesting
how the names on the bottom were left with so little space for their
signatures,’ observed Nick Vicente after he had studied the document for
several minutes.

‘If
they’d all signed their names the same size as John Hancock, we would have
needed a Declaration of twice the length,’ added the chairman as the phone on
the boardroom table started to ring.

The
chairman flicked a button on his intercom. ‘Yes, Martin?’

‘There’s
a Mr Al Obaydi on the private line, says he would like to have a word with Mr
Tony.’

‘Thank
you, Martin,’ said the chairman, as Tony leaned over to pick up the call. ‘Why
don’t you take it in my office, then I can listen in on the extension.’

Tony
nodded and left the room to go next door, where he picked up the receiver on
his father’s desk. ‘Antonio Cavalli,’ he said.

‘Hamid
Al Obaydi here. Your father suggested I call back around this time.’

‘We
are in possession of the document you require,’ was all Cavalli said.

‘I
congratulate you, Mr Cavalli.’

‘Are
you ready to complete the payment as agreed?’

‘All
in good time, but not until you have delivered the document to the place of our
choosing, Mr Cavalli, as I’m sure you will recall was also part of the
bargain.’

‘And
where might that be?’ asked Cavalli.

‘I
shall come to your office at twelve o’clock tomorrow, when you will receive
your instructions.’ He paused. ‘Among other things.’ The line went dead.

Cavalli
put the phone down and tried to think what Al Obaydi could possibly mean by
‘Among other things.’ He walked slowly back to the boardroom to find his father
and Nick poring over the Declaration. Tony noticed that the parchment had been
turned round.

‘What
do you think he meant by “Among other things”?’ Tony asked.

‘I’ve
no idea,’ replied his father as he gave the parchment one last look and then
began slowly to roll it up.

‘No
doubt I’ll find out tomorrow,’ said Tony as the chairman handed the document to
his son, who carefully slipped it back into its plastic container.

‘So
where’s its final destination to be?’ asked Nick.

‘I’ll
be given the details at twelve o’clock tomorrow,’ said Tony, a little surprised
that his father hadn’t reported his phone conversation with Al Obaydi to his
oldest friend.

H
E LAY WATCHING
HER, his head propped up in the palm of his hand, as the first sunlight of the
morning crept into the room. She stirred but didn’t wake as Scott began to run
a solitary finger down her spine. He couldn’t wait for her to open her eyes and
revive his memories of the previous night.

When
Scott had, in those early days, watched Hannah walking from the Jordanian
Embassy, dressed in those drab clothes so obviously selected with Karima Saib’s
tastes in mind, he thought she still looked stunning. Some packages, when you
remove the brightly-coloured wrapping, fail to live up to expectation. When Hannah
had first taken off the dowdy little two-piece suit she had been wearing that
day, he had stood there in disbelief that anyone could be so beautiful.

He
pulled back the single sheet that covered her and admired the sight that had
taken his breath away the night before. Her short-cropped hair; he wondered how
the long flowing strands would look when they fell on her shoulders as she
wanted them to. The nape of her neck, the smooth olive skin of her back, and
the long, shapely legs.

His
hands were like a child’s that had opened a stocking full of presents and
wanted to touch everything at once. He ran his fingers down her shoulders to
the arch of her back, hoping she would turn over. He moved a little closer,
leaned across and began to circle her firm breasts with a single finger. The
circles became smaller and smaller until he reached her soft nipple. He heard
her sigh, and this time she did turn and fall into his arms, her fingers
clinging to his shoulders as he pulled her closer.

‘It’s
not fair, you’re taking advantage of me,’ she said drowsily as his hand moved
up the inside of her thigh.

‘I’m
sorry,’ he said, removing his hand and kissing her cheek.

‘Don’t
be sorry. For heaven’s sake, Simon, I want you to take advantage of me,’ she
said, pulling his body closer to her. He continued to stroke her skin, all the
time discovering new treasures.

When
he entered her, she sighed a different sigh, the sigh of morning love, calmer
and more gentle than the demands of the night, but every bit as enjoyable.

For
Scott it had been a new experience. Although he had made love many more times
than he cared to remember, it had never been with the same excitement.

When
they finished making love, she rested her head on his shoulder and he brushed a
hair from her cheek, praying the next hour would go slowly. He hated the
thought of her returning to the embassy that morning as he knew she eventually
must. He didn’t want to share her with anybody.

The
room was now bathed in the morning sun, which only made him wonder when he
would next be allowed to spend a whole night with her.

The
Head of Interest Section had been called straight back to Geneva on urgent
business, and had taken only one secretary with him, leaving Hannah in Paris on
her own for the weekend. She only wished she could tell Simon what it was all
about, so he could pass the information on to Kratz.

She
had double-locked her room and left the embassy compound by the fire escape.
Hannah told him that she had felt like a schoolgirl creeping out of her
dormitory to join a midnight feast.

‘Better
than any feast I can remember,’ were his last words before they fell asleep in
each other’s arms.

The
day had begun when they had gone shopping together in the boulevard
Saint-Michel and bought clothes she couldn’t wear and a tie he would never have
considered before he met her. They’d had lunch at a corner cafe and taken two
hours to eat a salad and drink a bottle of wine. They had strolled down the
Champs-Elysees, hand in hand as lovers should, before joining the queue to see
the Clodion exhibition at the Louvre. A chance to teach her something he
thought he knew about, only to find it was he who did the learning. He bought
her a floppy tourist hat in the little shop at the base of the Eiffel Tower and
was reminded that she always looked stunning whatever she wore.

They
had dinner at Maxim’s but only ate one course, as they both knew by then that
all they really wanted to do was return to his little flat on the Left Bank.

He
remembered how he had stood there mesmerised as Hannah removed each garment
until she became so embarrassed that she began to take off his clothes. It was
almost as if he didn’t want to make love to her, because he hoped the
anticipation might go on forever.

Of
all the women, including the occasional promiscuous student, with whom he had
had one-night stands, casual affairs, even sometimes what he had imagined was
love, he had never known anything like this. And afterwards, he discovered
something else he had never experienced before: the sheer joy of just lying in
her arms was every bit as exhilarating as making love.

His
finger ran down the nape of her neck. ‘What time do you have to be back?’ he
asked, almost in a whisper.

‘One
minute before the Ambassador.’

‘And
when’s he expected?’

‘His
flight’s due in from Geneva at 11.20. So I’d better be at my desk before
twelve.’

‘Then
we still have time to make love once more,’ he said as he placed a finger on
her lips.

She
bit the finger gently.

‘Ow,’
he said mockingly.

‘Only
once?’ she replied.

Debbie
brought the Deputy Ambassador through to Cavalli’s office at twenty past
twelve. Neither man commented on the fact that Al Obaydi was late. Tony
indicated the chair on the other side of his desk, and waited for his visitor
to be seated. For the first time, he felt strangely uneasy about the Arab.

‘As
I mentioned yesterday,’ Cavalli began, ‘we are now in possession of the
document you require. We are therefore ready to exchange it for the sum
agreed.’

‘Ah,
yes, ninety million dollars,’ said the Iraqi, placing the tips of his fingers
together just below his chin while he considered his next statement. ‘Cash on
delivery, if I remember correctly.’

‘You
do,’ said Cavalli. ‘So now all we need to know is where and when.’

‘We
require the document to be delivered to Geneva by twelve o’clock next Tuesday.
The recipient will be a Monsieur Pierre Dummond of the bankers Dummond et cie.’

‘But
that only gives me six days to find a safe route out of the country and...’

‘Your
God created the world in that time, if I remember correctly,’ said Al Obaydi.

‘The
Declaration will be in Geneva by Tuesday midday,’ said Cavalli.

‘Good,’
said Al Obaydi. ‘And if Monsieur Dummond is satisfied that the document is
authentic, he has been given instructions to release the sum of ninety million
dollars by wire transfer to any bank of your choice in the world. If, on the
other hand, you fail to deliver, or the document proves to be a fake, we will
have lost ten million dollars, with nothing to show for it but a three-minute
film made by a world-famous director. In that eventuality, a package similar to
this one will be posted to the Director of the FBI and the Commissioner of the
IRS.’

Al
Obaydi removed a thick envelope from his inside pocket and tossed it across the
table. Cavalli’s expression did not change as the Deputy Ambassador rose, bowed
and walked out of the room without another word.

Cavalli
felt sure he was about to discover what ‘Among other things’ meant.

He
ripped open the bulky yellow envelope and allowed the contents to spill out
onto his desk. Photographs, dozens of them, and documents with banknote serial
numbers attached to them. He glanced at the photographs of himself in deep
conversation with Al Calabrese on the pavement in front of the National Cafe,
another of himself with Gino Sartori in the centre of Freedom Plaza, and yet
another with the director sitting on the dolly as they talked to the former
Chief of the DC Police Department. Al Obaydi had even taken a photograph of Rex
Butterworth entering the Willard Hotel and of the actor, bald-headed, sitting
in the third car, and later getting into the limo outside the Archives’ loading
dock.

Cavalli
began drumming his fingers on the table. It was then that he remembered the
nagging doubt at the back of his mind. It was Al Obaydi he had seen in the
crowd the previous day. He had underestimated the Iraqi. Perhaps the time had
come to call their man in the Lebanon and inform him of the Swiss bank account
he had opened in the Deputy Ambassador’s name.

No.
That would have to wait until the ninety million had been paid in full.

‘What
do I do, Simon, if he offers me the job?’

Scott
hesitated. He had no idea what Mossad would expect her to do. He knew exactly
what he wanted her to do. It was no use putting the question to Dexter Hutchins
in Virginia, because they wouldn’t have hesitated to tell him to continue using
Hannah for their own purposes.

Hannah
turned towards what Scott laughingly described as the kitchen. ‘Perhaps you
could ask Colonel Kratz what I should do,’ she suggested when he didn’t reply.
‘Explain to him that the Ambassador wants me to take Muna’s place, but that
another problem has arisen.’

‘What’s
that?’ asked Scott anxiously.

‘The
Ambassador’s term of office comes to an end early next month. He may well be
asked to stay in Paris, but the Chief Administrator is telling everyone that
he’s going to be called back to Baghdad and promoted to Deputy Foreign
Minister.’

Scott
still didn’t offer an opinion.

‘What’s
the matter, Simon? Are you incapable of making a decision at this time in the
morning?’ Scott still said nothing. ‘You’re just as pathetic on your feet as
you are in bed,’ she teased.

Scott
decided the time had come to tell her every ... thing. He wasn’t going to wait
another minute. He walked out of the kitchen, took her in his arms and stroked
her hair. ‘Hannah, I need to -’ he had begun, when the phone rang. He broke
away to answer it.

He
listened for a few moments before saying to Dexter Hutchins, ‘Yes, sure. I’ll
call you back as soon as I’ve had time to think about it.’ What was the man
doing up in the middle of the night, wondered Scott as he replaced the
receiver.

‘Another
lover, lover?’ Hannah asked with a smile.

‘My
publishers wanting to know when my manuscript will be finished. It’s already
overdue.’

‘And
what will your answer be?’

‘I’m
currently distracted.’

‘Only
currently?’ she said, pressing her finger on his nose.