The Persian Price (17 page)

They were eating lunch on the terrace. It was prepared by the surly Algerian who seldom spoke except to Madeleine. Resnais had spent the morning swimming. He was in a mischievous mood. The atmosphere between Peters and the girl was tense and this irritated him. The villa was beautiful, the food and wine very good, and the weather magnificent. His thoughts were not occupied by anything except occasional anxiety for his dog in Paris and he intended phoning through to make sure it was all right. He decided to pass the time by goading the Lebanese girl. If she hadn't been so jealous of Peters and the hostage, she might have been pleasant to him. He knew Peters had left her room.

He had been days without a woman and it would be a nuisance having to pick one up from outside. He knew Peters would forbid it if he found out.

‘Why don't we go into the town this evening?' he said to Madeleine. ‘If Peters will spare you for an hour.'

‘She can go,' the American said. ‘I've no objection.'

‘Why don't we all go?' Madeleine said. ‘We've been shut up here for too long. It's getting on our nerves.' She glanced at her lover; it was a plea for reconciliation. She saw that he had completely ignored it; he didn't even look up at her. Anxiety made her persist. ‘We could go and have dinner somewhere. We don't have to sit here playing nursemaid. Ahmed can keep watch on her. Let's have a little fun tonight.' She leaned over and laid her hand on Peters's arm. She loved him so much that it was a pain and she wanted him more than ever before. ‘Please,' she said, not caring that Resnais was watching them, ‘let's go together.'

‘You go,' Peters said coldly. He moved his arm and her hand slid off. ‘I'm not leaving her to some goon like Ahmed. We're here to do a job.'

‘He's right,' Resnais said. ‘Just suppose Ahmed felt lonely and decided to pay the lady a visit … You come out with me, Madeleine. Peters can watch over her.'

It was a cunning choice of words. Madeleine reacted as if she had trodden on a snake.

‘Watch over is right,' she snapped. She spoke to Resnais. ‘You know the wire's been taken off her window? I saw it the day before yesterday. Isn't that crazy?'

‘I didn't know that,' Resnais said. He looked at Peters. ‘Why?' He asked the question softly; the situation was no longer amusing him. ‘Isn't that dangerous?'

‘No,' the American said. ‘There's a fifty-foot drop to the rocks. She was half-suffocated in there.'

‘How do you know she won't throw herself out?' Resnais said. ‘I think you should have consulted us about this. The wire should be put back.'

‘She shouldn't be up there at all,' Madeleine broke in. ‘I've said from the beginning …'

‘I know what you've said,' Peters interrupted. ‘Just because it's a woman and you've got some spite against her. From now on, Madeleine, you'll keep your mouth shut about how she's to be treated. Otherwise I'll shut it for you.' He turned to Resnais. ‘You're right about the wire; I should have told you. But I'm in charge of the operation and responsible for her safety. You can take my word, she won't escape. Or try to jump out. She's not the type.'

The Frenchman shrugged.

‘If you're satisfied.'

They separated for the afternoon; Madeleine, sullen and silent, went to the rocks to sunbathe, Peters called for the car and went out, and Resnais lounged in the shade in the garden. The situation was no longer funny. Now there was friction between the three of them, with himself and the Lebanese girl drawing together in opposition to the American. He had never worked with Peters before but he knew his reputation. The girl was typical of the fanatic Arab female; so far as he was concerned she was wasted out of bed. He despised liberated women. A man like Peters was only effective because he was immune to human weakness. And that included small humanities like removing a safeguard because it was making their prisoner uncomfortable. He remembered the hi-jacking of the Lufthansa, the world headlines over the deliberate killing of the steward and the photographs of the shot stewardess and passengers being taken by stretcher from the aircraft. Peters and Madeleine had been responsible for that; there were stories about the American's activities in Chile, which were chilling enough to be legends. Now he and the girl were falling out over Eileen Field. Their relationship was disrupted and their common loyalty didn't bind them.

He stretched in the lounging chair, raising his arms above his head. Up there, on the first floor, was the cause. Peters hadn't let him go near her since they arrived. She had something, that was evident. He had felt it when he sat near her in the plane and murmured that he was going to look after her. It had amused him to frighten her. She was the class of woman with whom he felt sadistic. He had a mistress in Marseilles who was refined and well-educated; it excited them both when he debased and abused her. He didn't share Madeleine's personal motives but he wouldn't have objected in the least to keeping the wife of the chairman of Imperial Oil in a cellar which was underground and haunted by rats. He had never felt that the rich deserved anything else. He couldn't see her window; it was hidden by the pine trees. He wondered what it was about her that was turning Peters into a human being. The American wouldn't like it but he felt he should go and see for himself.

The telex came through from Paterson in Tokyo; Logan had been in the office for an hour when it arrived. Janet was with him. He had phoned as he promised and she sensed the same tension. She didn't make the common feminine mistake of asking what was wrong a second time. She met him at the office, not as mistress but as a colleague. Whatever was worrying him, he wasn't ready to tell her about it and the worst thing she could have done was to press for answers.

Janet thought of herself as a cool woman; even admitting that she loved Logan, she insisted on her individuality and freedom from dependence. She was surprised at the extent to which his off-key attitude had shaken her. She hadn't slept and it needed a real effort to assume her executive personality. Surprise gave way to irritation, not with Logan but with herself. Loving a man was one thing, but to be tempted into an emotional scene was a weakness she couldn't excuse. If he had a problem, he would discuss it when he was ready. Equally she could have reserved some crisis in her life from him.

When the telex arrived, Logan got up and came over to her.

‘It looks as if the Japanese are ready to come in! Listen. “Deputy Prime Minister Tomo Funasaka requests your presence at conference with Prime Minister to discuss possible financing of project. Signs extremely encouraging; importers meeting again today. Suggest you arrive Tokyo day after tomorrow. Paterson.” If that bloody Scot says anything's extremely encouraging, it must be in the bag!'

He threw his arm round Janet and suddenly the strain was gone. They were together; she understood the meaning of that telex in terms of Imshan and he could feel the same excitement in her.

‘Darling,' he said, ‘isn't it great – I feel sure we're going to work something out now. Do you want to come out with me?'

‘Just try and leave me behind!' she said. ‘I wouldn't miss it for the world.'

Logan switched on the intercom. His Iranian secretary came through.

‘Send in Mr Kelly and Mr Phillipson right away.'

He turned back to Janet. Her response had been just right. She loved the game as much as he did.

‘If I can get them to agree to a government loan in return for a guaranteed supply of oil, we can make up the total cost of building their bloody refinery without cutting too deep into our own profit margin. I reckon we'll just be able to do it.'

‘Are you going to inform London?' Janet asked him.

‘No,' Logan said, ‘I'm not going to tell anyone, except Kelly, Phillipson and you. And I don't want Khorvan getting a sniff of it either. Otherwise he'll dream up something else by the time I get back. You make the bookings for us, darling. I don't trust the staff here. Ah, come in James – Phillipson – sit down. We've got some good news.'

Kelly had a hangover; he ignored Janet and sat watching Logan. Confidence, authority, a controlled excitement. He had completely lost the look of drawn apprehension since last night. For a moment, disorientated by a blinding headache, Kelly imagined that the good news he was about to hear concerned Eileen.

‘This is the telex that's just come in from Ian Paterson.' Logan passed it to James. He read it and without speaking handed it to Phillipson, the deputy resident director. He heard an exclamation of approval. Logan was addressing them.

‘Tomo Funasaka is supposed to be the policy maker. If he supports something, the Prime Minister usually goes along. I'm going out immediately and taking Janet with me. I believe this has to be kept as quiet as possible, so she's making the bookings outside the office and I don't want anyone in the building to know where I've gone. As far as they're concerned I've taken off for a week.'

‘What about London, sir?' Phillipson asked.

‘Say nothing,' Logan said. ‘I'll telex them from Tokyo when I've got some kind of a deal going. It may take a few days.'

James didn't contribute anything and Logan didn't seem to notice. The discussion was brief and he heard Janet making suggestions about revised cash-flow projections. It was a concert of voices, coinciding with the hammers in his head. Phillipson making the right noises, but not contributing too much. He knew how to handle men like Logan. There'd be a future for him with Imperial Oil. And the woman, with her masculine mind, playing the asexual role. Logan, generating his own excitement at the prospect of turning Khorvan's attack on them into a triumph. He was leaving Tehran immediately to conduct negotiations with the Japanese. On his own admission he could be away some days, a loose term which could encompass up to two weeks. Logan was dismissing them. James got up.

‘Could I see you for a minute – in private?'

‘Yes. Janet – you don't mind, do you?'

She smiled at Logan and went out of the office. Kelly faced Logan. He genuinely didn't know why Kelly wanted to speak to him alone. It was incredible, but quite true. He had forgotten about his wife.

‘You have an appointment with Homsi today,' James said. ‘What happens to that? What happens to Eileen while you're in Japan?'

Logan didn't hesitate. His mind switched direction. James could see it happening.

‘I'll see Homsi as arranged. I'm going to contact him this morning and fix a meeting. If there's anything immediate to be done, then you can handle it for me. My guess is, we'll have quite a negotiation on our hands.'

‘Would you mind telling me which negotiation you have in mind?' Kelly lit a cigarette. His headache seemed to be improving.

Logan leaned back in his chair.

‘Both, if you want me to spell it out. And I might as well spell out a few other things. I am going to do everything to get Eileen released. Whatever they want, I'll give them. You asked me a question last night. I thought you were pissed so I let you get away with it. You asked if I'd pay the price, no matter what. I said yes and I'm saying it now. Though why it's any of your bloody business, I'm not sure. I'm seeing Homsi today and then I'm going to Tokyo. Nobody else can go instead, it's got to be me. Everything depends on it. Without a Japanese deal we can pack up and go home and leave Imshan to the Russians. While I'm away, you handle the ransom, whatever it is. I may be back in a few days. Is that clear?'

James got up; he put out his cigarette in the ashtray on Logan's desk.

‘Perfectly clear. You go off on business and leave me to bargain for Eileen's life. Most people wouldn't do it for you. But I will. I'll do anything and everything I can for her while you fart around Tokyo looking after fucking Imperial Oil. And you'll have my resignation this afternoon. If there's one thing I won't work for, it's a prize shit like you.'

‘You're in love with her,' Logan said. ‘So you ought to be glad of the chance. Now get out of my office. I've got work to do.'

When the door closed, it slammed. Logan swore, not so much at Kelly, but at the circumstances. He had realized the situation with Kelly when he heard about the call to Ireland. It hadn't disturbed him because beside the issue of Eileen's disappearance it was unimportant. But he had stood there, accusing him, and suddenly making Logan defend himself. To himself. A prize shit. That had stung; the contempt implicit in the term had stung him even more.

Kelly thought he should stay and negotiate with Homsi. But this was unrealistic; he had no doubt about that. He was going to hear the kidnappers' terms and set the deal in motion, leaving Kelly to tie it up. At the worst he was a telex away and a plane flight if he was needed. But nobody else could sit round the table with the Japanese government and secure investment backing which would give Imperial access to the richest oil-field in the world. If it was a question of priorities, and this was the essence of Kelly's condemnation of him, then he insisted he had got them right. He wouldn't help Eileen by sitting in Tehran; if he delayed, the Japanese would take offence and the seriousness of their approach would be questioned. There was nothing else he could do but go. Nothing.

He told his secretary to get him the Syrian Embassy. A moment later he was speaking to Homsi. He arranged to meet him in the Bank of Iran where the State treasures were on display. It was suggested by the Syrian as a place where they could meet without being conspicuous. There were always crowds of tourists looking at the Iranian crown jewels. He hung up before he could be asked a question. Logan called for coffee and settled down to work. He never found it difficult to close one problem out and concentrate upon another. The telex from his finance director had driven Eileen out of his mind; she would have remained in the background until it was time to see Homsi, not because he was inhuman or unconcerned about her, but because for thirty years his business had always had first claim. It was as much a reflex as a decision that booked for Japan, regardless of other responsibilities. It had never occurred to him to do otherwise, until James Kelly questioned it. And now the question was in his mind and he was having to fight to answer it. He couldn't think clearly and he pushed his work aside. He was going to Japan. That was an irreversible decision. He wouldn't permit Kelly to make him feel guilty to the extent of changing that. But until he had seen the Syrian he couldn't apply his full concentration to anything else. He had to know what they wanted. Then he could agree to it. Having agreed, he could go to Tokyo without scruples. James Kelly could set what was needed in motion. And he wouldn't take the resignation seriously. Kelly was in an emotional state. When he had something to do towards helping her, he would regain his perspective. The terms were sure to be political and, God damn it, as Logan excused himself, Kelly was an ex-diplomat who was ideal as an intermediary until he got back. But it seemed a long morning till he was ready to take the car to the Bank on Ferdowsi Avenue.