Pol took a sip of coffee, leaving a muddy smear along his lips. ‘You have been anxious to learn, mon cher Packer, what Mademoiselle Sarah has been doing in our company? You have even made the absurd suggestion that I have been entertaining amorous intentions towards her.’ He wagged his head from side to side: ‘Such a compliment, mon cher! But fear not — the Germans released me from all such appetites in Lyon in 1944.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ve got no illusions about your sexual proclivities,’ Packer said brutally; ‘I’d even prefer it if your interest in Sarah was that simple. But you like to play games — and sometimes pretty expensive games, when it comes to throwing in a gold and emerald necklace. You still haven’t explained what that was for. Some kind of down payment?’
‘I really think,’ said Shiva Steiner, in a voice like falling leaves, ‘that such matters are irrelevant.’
‘Not to me,’ said Packer. ‘Charles gave her that necklace as what we call a “sweetener”. And that was just for openers. By this time he’s no doubt got a full contract drawn up — joint bank account, with small print to his advantage, if she hasn’t read it carefully and beaten him to the draw. She’s a banker’s daughter, of course,’ he added, with a bleak smile at Pol, who did not return it. ‘All right, Charles, what’s it all about?’
‘She has said nothing to you so far?’
‘I’ve hardly had the opportunity to speak to her — especially since you’ve assigned us separate rooms. Was that your idea, or hers?’
‘Ah, mon cher, it is indeed unfortunate,’ Pol said, stroking his goatee, ‘that you and Mademoiselle Sarah have had this little contretemps. It would be in all our interests if you became friends again.’
‘I’m not prepared to discuss my affairs in front of two strangers,’ said Packer. ‘My personal relations with Sarah are even less relevant than your little cadeau to her.’
‘That could be a matter for argument,’ Pol said. ‘In the kind of operation we are planning, I must emphasize that personal disharmony could be as damaging as mutiny or betrayal.’
‘All right, Charles. So what you call “Operation Shah-Mak” still on, and this time it’s to be played on the Ruler’s home ground? And where does Sarah fit in?’
‘Mademoiselle Sarah,’ Pol said, leaning back with his hands folded across his immense stomach, ‘will be the instrument of death.’
“Instrument?’ Packer paused, his thoughts disorientated. ‘What instrument?’
For some time no one spoke. The silence was broken by the faint scratching of Pol’s fingernail on his goatee; while Packer was aware of the pale hunched figure of Dr Zak watching him with his large sad eyes.
It was Shiva Steiner who finally spoke. ‘I should explain, Capitaine Packer, that under my auspices, Mademoiselle Sarah made the personal acquaintance of the Ruler in Switzerland before she left. I have also extended to her an invitation to visit Mamounia, where I shall arrange that she should again meet His Imperial Highness — this time under more intimate circumstances.’
Packer turned and stared at Pol, with confusion and dismay. ‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ he yelled, suddenly in English, with a look of hopeless rage. ‘You don’t really intend to get her to kill him?’ He paused. Again, none of them spoke. ‘She’s never killed anything except a few pheasants,’ he added in French, ‘and she’s not even good at that!’ He turned to Shiva Steiner. ‘You talked about a provisional plan. What is it?’
‘Let us take this step by step, Capitaine Packer,’ Steiner said blandly. ‘It is sufficient for the moment that she should be successfully introduced into the Ruler’s intimate presence, under circumstances in which he will be both highly vulnerable and unsuspecting.’
‘And how’s she going to kill him?’
Pol began to speak, but Packer cut him short. ‘No, I want Monsieur Steiner to answer. He seems to be the one who’s taken over this operation.’
Shiva Steiner inclined his head. ‘Certainly, mon Capitaine. We have devised a plan with care — and, I may add, with considerable ingenuity. I do not claim that it is a perfect plan, but it is a very good one. The Ruler is fond of entertaining female company, particularly of select origin, and when he does he always uses his private apartments in the Palace, which are separate from those he occupies with his family. On these occasions he is guarded by a small group of specially chosen men who are familiar with his habits. When Mademoiselle Sarah leaves His Highness’s apartments, it will be worth literally more than the lives of any one of these men to stop her, even to ask her name. But what is more important — under no circumstances do these guards enter the royal apartments until they are summoned by His Highness himself.
‘The Ruler entertains many women in this way,’ Steiner went on, ‘and it is not uncommon for him to tire of them before the night is out. Therefore, if Mademoiselle Sarah is seen to leave his apartments early, not only will she arouse no suspicions, but she will have ample time to make her escape. That is where you will come into action, Capitaine. You will be waiting in a car close to the Palace Square and will drive her to a spot outside the city where you will rendezvous with a private aircraft. We will discuss the precise details later. But that is the broad provisional outline of the plan.’ He paused. ‘I am interested to hear your opinion, Capitaine.’
‘And why have you chosen me to drive this car, Steiner?’
It was Pol who answered. ‘Because you will inspire confidence in Mademoiselle Sarah. I know that you are angry with her, and that she behaved in a foolish and selfish way —’
‘I said, I will not discuss my personal relationships here!’
Pol smiled indulgently. ‘But I have also said, mon cher, that your personal relationship with Mademoiselle Sarah happens to be of critical importance to this operation.’
‘Why?’
Pol sighed and patted his belly. ‘In the last few days I have had the opportunity of getting to know the young lady quite well. She is most discreet about her private life, but I have been able to detect that her emotions are somewhat confused, at least as far as you are concerned. She will not admit it, but in a situation where she finds herself exposed to danger, she has come to rely upon you.’
‘Did she tell you this?’ said Packer.
‘Not in so many words. But I can assure you that when I informed her you were arriving here, she was not displeased.’
‘You still haven’t told me how she’s going to kill him.’
There was another heavy silence. Pol’s eyes had rolled up again towards the ceiling, his lips parted in a half-smile. Shiva Steiner spoke.
‘We have naturally considered this aspect of the affair most carefully. The use of a gun — even a small one — equipped with a silencer, is not practicable. For although the Ruler’s guards have orders never to detain or question any of his private guests when they leave his apartments, they are empowered, on occasion, to search visitors on their arrival.’
‘There are guns and guns,’ Packer murmured. ‘What about that little gadget that looks like a cigarette lighter — what they call a Mexican gun-knife?’
Shiva Steiner’s eyes slid sideways towards Pol, who lowered his head, and for the first time Packer saw the Frenchman blush. ‘For reasons which I need not explain,’ Steiner continued, ‘I happen to know that the Ruler is especially suspicious of such gadgets.’
‘Well?’
Steiner pressed his broad flat fingertips together and stared into the middle distance. ‘The obvious weapon would seem to be a knife, or perhaps a needle or hatpin, disguised in a nail-file case.’
‘You’d never get her to do it. She practically faints at the mention of blood.’
‘Quite. Besides, the use of such weapons would require considerable skill and knowledge of anatomy, which I happen to know the young lady does not possess.’
‘Well, come on — what have you decided?’
Shiva Steiner explained, in brief, precise, medical detail; and while Packer had difficulty controlling his bewilderment and
fury, he had to concede that whether the plan was Pol’s or Steiner’s, it had a certain revolting simplicity.
The decision to carry it out successfully must now rest with Sarah; but he also knew, from weary experience, that to try and dissuade her would be self-defeating. The fact that he was to connive not only at her committing murder, but at her fornicating with an almost total stranger, was a moral peccadillo which would not concern the three men round the table. In any case, Packer realized that he had no rights over Sarah. He had never had any. Since their last meeting, in the Vereina Hotel in Klosters, his relationship with her had ceased to be even precarious, and from now on would be simply professional. It was not a situation that he liked, but one which he would have to accept. For he was only too well aware that while Sarah might be indispensable to the operation, he was not.
He looked at Pol. ‘I want to talk to you, Charles — alone with Sarah. I think it right that we should hear what she has to say.’
‘D’accord.’ Pol glanced across the table. Steiner nodded, but Dr Zak sat in his baggy pyjamas, silent and motionless. Pol heaved himself to his feet and Packer followed.
‘By the way, Capitaine Packer,’ Steiner called after them, ‘what make of lipstick did you say Mademoiselle Sarah uses?’
‘I didn’t. But if you choose one of the expensive ones you won’t go wrong.’
‘It’s mad and it’s obscene! What’s more, it’s probably a trick anyway.’
Packer had been pacing the floor, picking his way through the litter of Pol’s personal effects; while Sarah sat on a couch under the open window in Pol’s bedroom.
‘If your friend Steiner is that intimate with the Ruler’s habits, he might well tip him the wink. Steiner could be sitting it out to see which way the cat jumps. My guess is, the Ruler still holds a pretty strong hand — a lot stronger than that wizened old creep, Dr Zak who, from what I hear, is some sort of a leftist guru for the Ruler’s dissidents. Anyway, that’s the way I see it. And Steiner probably does too — he’s not stupid.’
Pol himself lay on the double bed, jacket and shoes off, his tie loosened and shirt undone, his egg-shaped head resting like an invalid’s in a nest of cushions. He let his hand flop down on to the crumpled sheet beside him; the bed looked as though it had not been made for a week. ‘It is our only chance, mon cher. Unless we kill him, he will kill us — it is as certain as if it were a law of Nature.’
‘You and I aren’t going to kill him,’ said Packer; ‘Sarah is.’ He turned, looked at her, and spoke in English. ‘How much is he paying you?’
‘Why do you want to know?’ she said, also in English. Her profile was silhouetted in black against the window and he could not see her expression.
‘Because I want to make sure you’re not cheated,’ Packer said, reverting to French. He looked at Pol, who had judiciously closed his eyes. ‘How much has Steiner paid you, Charles?’
Pol opened his eyes with a start, as though aroused from sleep.
‘Don’t play the innocent,’ said Packer, moving to the foot of the bed. ‘Between you and Steiner, you may have fooled Sarah — but not me. His Imperial Highness had you badly scared back in Klosters — scared enough to make you run, but not enough to have you scurrying back for a second try. Not unless somebody made it worth your while. Shiva Steiner, for instance, acting as a front man for Dr Zak’s cronies, who probably get their backing from those Arab states who’d like to get rid of the Ruler. What I don’t understand is why the Ruler has let Zak run around loose for so long — unless he thinks a dummy opposition is good for his democratic image.’
Pol nestled back on the pillows and closed his eyes again. ‘Why must you always concern yourself with the politics of the situation, mon cher? You are a soldier — you obey orders.’
‘You’re wrong,’ said Packer. ‘I’m an old-fashioned mercenary — which means I’m paid to obey orders. And I don’t do the same job twice for one fee. I want your cheque book out, Charles — not the one on our joint account, but the one you kept for yourself when the Ruler made you the initial payment. Don’t worry, I’ll still leave you a nice margin of profit.’ He leaned out and squeezed Pol’s big toe. ‘You’re going to write out one cheque, made out to our join account at the Volkskantonale Bank, for £500,000.’
‘You are ridiculous.’
‘Shut up.’ Packer jerked the toe backwards and Pol squealed. ‘You will airmail it yourself, this evening, from Beirut Central Post Office, with instructions for the bank to cable me here immediately it is received and cleared.’ He ran his thumb along the soft cushion of Pol’s toes, reached the little one and slowly pinched. ‘And I’m not making a move until I get that confirmation.’ He pinched harder. ‘It’s something you taught me yourself, Charles — life insurance. Because if anything unfortunate should happen, and I should get killed, that half million is buried in the frozen vaults of Aalau. Think about it, Charles. That’s nearly three-quarters of a million you’re going to have tied up in me.’
Pol gasped with pain. ‘You are a fool. What makes you think you are so important?’
‘You do — or you wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble of getting your old hush-hush friend with the wig to wet-nurse me in France, then air-freight me out here, with full board and lodging.’ He had relaxed his grip on Pol’s toe, and the Frenchman’s face was beginning to sweat.
‘Why do you think I need you?’ Pol asked feebly.
‘To protect your original investment. And, as you said downstairs, to convince Sarah that she’s going to get out of Mamounia alive. That’s what I was hired for originally, remember — long-term planning and instant improvisation.’
Slowly Pol rolled his head from side to side, leaving damp patches on the pillows. ‘It is not worth half a million pounds sterling,’ he murmured.
‘A quarter of a million,’ said Packer.
Pol blinked. ‘Hein?’
‘It’ll be in my name, but half of it goes to Sarah.’ Packer sensed, rather than heard her begin to speak, but held up his free hand, still holding Pol’s little toe in the other. ‘She’s going to be the one taking all the risks, Charles. You don’t even have to shift your arse out of this fortress, let alone put yourself inside the Ruler’s jurisdiction.’
Sarah now spoke from the window. ‘Don’t be stupid, Owen. Charles and I have made our own arrangements, thank you. And if you want the truth I trust him rather more than I do you, after what happened with the necklace he gave me.’ She gave an icy laugh. ‘A quarter of a million pounds tied up in you? I just wonder what I’d have to do to get it!’
He turned stiffly, letting go of Pol’s toe. The light behind the window was fading, but Sarah’s expression was still unclear.
‘These arrangements you’ve made with Charles,’ Packer said slowly. ‘Have you agreed to them all, unconditionally?’ He waited, but she said nothing. ‘When will you do it?’ he went on. ‘While he’s on the job? Or just afterwards, while he’s still exhausted, but hasn’t had time to get bored and summon his bodyguards to throw you out?’ He took a step towards her. ‘Or maybe you’ll choose the moment of climax — that glorious historic moment, never to be forgotten, when the Imperial penis anoints the vaginal font of Miss Sarah Laval-Smith before she —’
She crossed the floor and slapped him hard across the cheek, her fingertips leaving a burning ache in front of his ear. He stepped backwards into the tangled heap of Pol’s sheepskin coat, lost his balance and sat down. From the bed came a shrill laugh.
‘Ah, quel joli spectacle! The great Capitaine Packer floored by a young girl. You see, my friend, she is a young lady of spirit! You should be proud of her.’ Pol had sat up on the bed and was groping for his shoes. ‘I am going to call for some champagne for Sarah and myself. As for you, mon cher, I suggest some fig juice. It may help to purge some of your bad humours.’
CHAPTER 29
‘I am dissatisfied, Minister.’ The Ruler sat on the chesterfield, a varnished bamboo cane with a leather-bound handle bal
anced across his knee. ‘If I did not honour you with my most profound and absolute trust, I would be tempted to believe that you were deceiving me.’
‘I assure Your Serene Highness —’ Marmut bem Letif stood with his sleek narrow head tilted to one side, his shoes pressed together like a pair of shiny slugs — ‘assure you with all my faith — swear to Your Highness on the dust of my father — that I do not deceive you.’
The Ruler watched him in silence. ‘Perhaps you do not deceive me. But you do not satisfy me. And how, Minister Letif, can I be convinced of the former when the latter is wanting? I do not judge by intentions, but by results. The results, Letif, are inadequate.’
Letif’s limp white features sloped downwards, his eyes following the ridges of bamboo as the Ruler now drew the cane in a sawing motion across the knife edge of his trouser leg. ‘With deep and humble respect to Your Highness — without the services of NAZAK, my resources are severely limited.’
‘NAZAK —’ the word reached Letif like a bolt of cold anger — ‘you speak as though NAZAK was the driving force, the soul of the nation. Do you think I appointed you Minister of the Interior — my direct second-in-command, in charge of the nation’s Security — in order that you might go cowering to Colonel Tamat and his menagerie of licensed torturers and psychopaths?’
Letif’s chin drooped on to his chest. ‘No, Your Serene Highness.’ There was a long silence.
‘You tell me that Dr Zak left the country five days ago and has not returned. And Colonel Tamat also tells me that the doctor has flown to Damascus. But then, as we know, Colonel Tamat can no longer be trusted. So what do you tell me, Letif? You tell me only that you do not have enough resources, not enough men. And perhaps I should not be surprised, after what happened to your two apes in Switzerland. You must do better. Colonel Tamat and his organization do not have exclusive rights to the ablest men in the country. Why, Letif, are your men so inferior?’
‘Your Most Serene Highness —’ Letif hesitated. The Ruler fondled the leather handle of his cane and waited. ‘Your Highness, permit me to ask a question which, I pray, Your Highness will understand —’
Shah-Mak Page 29