Honour Among Thieves

'If that's the case, perhaps you can explain why he passed 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 passed 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 Ambassador had been called away to Geneva again. Something big was happening, but she still didn't know exactly what. Scott had already decided that three things were going to take place when they next met. First, he would cook the meal himself, despite Hannah's comments about his inadequate kitchen. Second, he was going to tell her the truth about himself, whatever interruptions occurred. And third . . . Scott felt more relaxed than he had in weeks once he had decided to 'come clean', as his mother had described it whenever he'd tried to get away with something. He knew that he would be recalled to the States once he had informed Dexter of what had happened, and that a few weeks later he would be quietly discharged. But that was no longer of any significance, because third, and most important of all, he was going to ask Hannah to come back to America with him, as his wife. Scott spent the afternoon shopping in the market for freshly baked bread, the finest wild mushrooms, succulent lamb chops and tiny ripe oranges. He returned home to prepare a feast he hoped she would never forget. He had also prepared a speech he believed she would, in time, find it possible to forgive. During the evening, Scott found himself looking up at the kitchen clock every few moments. He felt robbed if she was ever more than a few minutes late. She had failed to turn up for their previous meeting, though he accepted that she had no way of letting him know when something unexpected came up. He was relieved to see her walk through the door soon after the clock had struck eight. Scott smiled when Hannah removed her coat, and he saw she was wearing the dress he had chosen for her when they'd gone shopping together for the first time. A long blue dress that hung loosely off the shoulders, and made her appear both elegant and sexy. He immediately took her in his arms, and was surprised by her response. She seemed distant, almost cold. Or was he being over-sensitive? Hannah broke away and stared at the table laid for two with its red-and-white check tablecloth and two sets of unmatching cutlery. Scott poured her a glass of the white wine he had selected to go with the first course before he disappeared into the kitchen to put the final touches to his culinary efforts, aware that he and Hannah always had so little time together. 'What are you cooking?' she asked, in a dull, flat voice. 'Wait and see,' he replied. 'But I can tell you the starter is something I learned when -' He stopped himself. 'Many years ago,' he added rather lamely. He didn't see her grimace at his failure to finish the original sentence. Scott returned to join her a few moments later, carrying two plates of piping-hot wild mushrooms, with a small slice of garlic bread. 'But not too much garlic,' he promised her, 'for obvious reasons.' No witty or sharp response came flying back, and he wondered if she was unable to stay overnight. He might have questioned her more closely had he not been concentrating on the dinner as well as