Honour Among Thieves

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