Honour Among Thieves

days, despite phones that didn't connect and civil servants who were never at their desks -and even when they were, were too terrified to answer the most basic questions - he was almost in a position to complete the first draft of his report. The problem areas had been: agricultural machinery, half of which the UN Sanctions Committee took for granted was military equipment under another name; hospital supplies, including pharmaceuticals, on which the UN accepted most of their requests; and food, which they were allowed to purchase - although most of the produce that came across the border seemed to disappear on the black market long before it reached the Baghdad housewife. A fourth list was headed 'miscellaneous items', and included among these was a massive safe which, when Al Obaydi checked its measurements, turned out to be almost the size of the room he was presently working in. The safe, an internal report confirmed, had been ordered before the planned liberation of the Nineteenth Province, and was now sitting in a warehouse in Kalmar, waiting to be collected. Al Obaydi's boss at the UN had confessed privately that he was surprised that the Sanctions Committee had lifted the embargo on the safe, but this did not deter him from assuring the Foreign Minister that they had only done so as a result of his linstaking negotiating skills. Al Obaydi sat at his laden desk for some time, considering what his next move should be. He wrote a short list of headings on the notepad in front of him: 1 M.o.I. 2 State Security 3 Deputy Foreign Minister 4 Kalmar Al Obaydi glanced at the first heading, M.o.I. He had remained in contact with a fellow student from London University days who had risen to Permanent Secretary status at the Ministry of Industry. Al Obaydi felt his old friend would be able to supply the information he required without suspecting his real motive. He dialled the Permanent Secretary's private number, and was delighted to find that someone was at his desk. 'Nadhim, it's Hamid Al Obaydi.' 'Hamid, I heard you were back from New York. The rumour is that you've got what remains of our embassy in Paris. But one can never be sure about rumours in this city.' 'For once, they're accurate,' Al Obaydi told his friend. 'Congratulations. So, what can I do for you, Your Excellency?' Al Obaydi was amused that Nadhim was the first person to address him by his new title, even if he was being sarcastic. 'UN sanctions.' 'And you claim you're my friend?' 'No, it's just a routine check. I've got to tie up any loose ends for my successor. Everything's in order as far as I can tell, except I'm unable to find out much about a gigantic safe that was made for us in Sweden. I know we've paid for it, but I can't discover what is happening about its delivery.' 'Not this department, Hamid. The responsibility was taken out of our hands about a year ago after the file was marked "High Command", which usually means for the President's personal use.' 'But someone must be responsible for a movement order from Kalmar to Baghdad,' said Al Obaydi. 'All I know is that I was instructed to pass the file on to our UN office in Geneva, as we don't have an embassy in Oslo. I'm surprised you didn't know that, Hamid. More your department than mine, I would have thought.' 'Then I'll have to get in touch with Geneva and find out what they're doing about it,' said Al Obaydi, not adding that New York and Geneva rarely informed each other of anything they were up to. 'Thanks for your help, Nadhim.' 'Any time. Good luck in Paris, Hamid. I'm told the women are fabulous, and despite what you hear, they like Arabs.' Al Obaydi put the phone down and stared at the list on his pad. He took even longer deciding if he should make the second call. The correct course of action with the information he now possessed would be to contact Geneva, alert the Ambassador of his suspicions and let Saddam's half-brother once again take the praise for something he himself had done the work on. He checked his watch. It was midday in Switzerland. He asked his secretary to get Barazan Al-Tikriti on the phone, knowing she would log every call. He waited for several minutes before a voice came on the line. "Can I speak to the Ambassador?' he asked politely. 'He's in a meeting, sir,' came back the inevitable reply, 'Shall I disturb him?' 'No, no, don't bother. But would you let him know that Hamid Al Obaydi called from Baghdad, and ask him if he would be kind enough to return my call.'