Honour Among Thieves Part 15

Cavalli laughed and removed the cap from the top of the cylinder before slowly extracting the parchment and placing it gently on the boardroom table. He then unrolled twohundred years of history. The three men stared down at the Declaration of Independence and quickly checked the spelling of 'Brittish'.

'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 s.p.a.ce for their signatures,' observed Nick Vicente after he had studied the doc.u.ment for several minutes.

'If they'd all signed their names the same size as John Hanc.o.c.k, 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 b.u.t.ton 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 doc.u.ment 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 doc.u.ment 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 doc.u.ment 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.

HE 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 Emba.s.sy, 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 b.r.e.a.s.t.s 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 sighof 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 emba.s.sy 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 pa.s.s the information on to Kratz.

She had double-locked her room and left the emba.s.sy 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 embarra.s.sed 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 antic.i.p.ationmight 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 Amba.s.sador.'

'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 Amba.s.sador 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 doc.u.ment 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 doc.u.ment 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 G.o.d 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 issatisfied that the doc.u.ment 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 doc.u.ment 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 Amba.s.sador 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 doc.u.ments 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 b.u.t.terworth 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 Amba.s.sador'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 Amba.s.sador wants me to take Muna's place, but that another problem has arisen.'

'What's that?' asked Scott anxiously.

'The Amba.s.sador'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 ma.n.u.script 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.

'Well, perhaps permanently,' he admitted.

She kissed him gently on the cheek and whispered, 'I must get back to the emba.s.sy, Simon. Don't come down with me, it's too risky.'

He held her in his arms and wanted to protest but settled for 'When will I see you again?'

'Whenever the Amba.s.sador's wife feels in need of a swim,'

Hannah said. She broke away. 'But I'll keep on reminding her how good it is for her figure, and that perhaps she ought to be taking even more exercise.' She laughed and left without another word.Scott stood by the window, waiting for her to reappear. He hated the fact that he couldn't just phone, write or make contact with her whenever he felt like it. He longed to send her flowers, letters, cards and notes to let her know how much he loved her.

Hannah ran out onto the pavement, a smile on her face. She looked up and blew Scott a kiss before she vanished around the corner.

Another man, who was cold and tired from hours of waiting, also watched her, not from a window in a warm room but from a doorway on the opposite side of the road.

The moment Scott disappeared from sight, the man stepped out of the shadows and followed the Amba.s.sador's second secretary back to the emba.s.sy compound.

'I don't believe you,' she said.

'I fear that the truth of the matter is you don't want to believe me,' said Kratz, who had flown in from London that morning.

'But he can't be working for any enemy of Israel.'

'If that's the case, perhaps you can explain why he pa.s.sed himself off as a Mossad agent?'

.For the last two hours Hannah had tried to think of a logical reason why Simon would have deceived her, but had to admit that she had been unable to come up with a convincing answer.

'Have you told us everything you pa.s.sed on to him?' Kratz demanded.

'Yes,' she said, suddenly feeling ashamed. 'But have you checked with all the friendly agencies?'

'Of course we have,' said Kratz. 'No one in Paris has ever heard of the man. Not the French, not the British, and certainly not the CIA. Their Head of Station told me personally that they have never had anyone on their books called Simon Rosenthal.'

'So what will happen to me now?' asked Hannah.

'Do you wish to continue working for your country?'

'You know I do,' she said, glaring back at him.

'And are you still hoping to be included in the team for Baghdad?'

'Yes, of course I am. Why would I have put myself through ail this in the first place if I didn't want to be part of the final operation?'

'Then you will also want to abide by the oath you swore in the presence of your colleagues in Herzliyah.''Nothing would make me break that oath. You know that.

Just tell me what you expect me to do.'

'I expect you to kill Rosenthal.'

Scott was delighted when Hannah confirmed on Thursday afternoon that she would be able to slip away for dinner on Friday evening, and might even find it possible to stay overnight. It seemed that the Amba.s.sador had been called away to Geneva again. Something big was happening, but she still didn't know exactly what.