Diamond Dust

27

Ever since the diamond heist went wrong, Harry Tattersall had dreaded hearing from his old friend Rhadi. He expected a witch-hunt. The deviser of the plot, that sinister little man Zahir, wasn't going to let the whole thing rest. Much as Harry hoped that the Arab philosophy might be to offer a thousand blessings to Allah for a lucky escape, he knew in his gut that it was not to be. Zahir would want to know who had shafted them.

Never mind that Harry was blameless, having acted like a hero and saved everyone from arrest. His Houdini stunt at the Dorchester wasn't going to work in his favour. With their devious minds the Arabs would think he'd been allowed to walk away. It wasn't true, of course. He'd been as horrified as anyone when things came to grief. He hadn't grassed, and he didn't know who had.

The first days after, he'd stayed out of sight, fearing Special Branch or one of the security services would come in pursuit. He hadn't gone to Ireland, as planned, in case that part of the operation had been blabbed. He'd stayed with a friend in Tunbridge Wells. As the weeks passed, he'd returned to London, deciding he was safe from the authorities. The real threat was from his fellow-conspirators. He'd heard disturbing stories of Arab retribution: thieves having their hands severed and adulterers being stoned. He didn't care to discover what happened to informers.

The call eventually came one Monday evening.

'I'm so glad you're in,' his friend Rhadi said, as if he was selling insurance. 'We need to talk.'

'Only you and me?' Harry said, more in hope than expectation.

'No. All of us. The team.' And it was obvious from Rhadi's voice that he wasn't alone. 'We wish to compare notes on our, em, disappointment. A de-brief, as they say.'

'A de-brief,' Harry repeated, thinking it sounded like the prelude to castration.

'We'll come to you. Be with you inside an hour. Don't go to any trouble.'

It was under the half-hour when the knock came. Little Zahir strode in first without even a nod of recognition, followed by Ibrahim and Rhadi. They were in black suits, like a funeral party.

Rhadi said, 'Sorry about this, but we need to frisk you.'

So much for team spirit. He submitted to Ibrahim's large hands.

'Isn't the other fellow coming?' Harry asked while this was going on. He'd given thought to the way he would handle the workover.

Zahir didn't answer for some time, and the others seemed to feel any response should come from him. He was sitting in Harry's favourite armchair, well forward so that the tips of his shoes kept contact with the carpet. 'Which other fellow?'

'The man from the Dorchester.'

'No, he can't make it.'

'We could be wasting our time, then, trying to work out what went wrong.'

'Why? Do you have a theory?' Zahir said, baring the big teeth.

Harry backtracked. 'Not as such. I simply thought we should all be in on the discussion.'

Zahir gave a shrug. 'Our colleague at the Dorchester can't be here tonight. Now, Mr Tattersall, sit down and let's discuss the fiasco. The first we heard from you, on your mobile from the hotel, was a positive message. You called me with the name of the suite.'

'Exactly as arranged,' Harry stressed, taking a seat as far from his interrogator as possible.

'You didn't say anything was amiss.'

'Nothing was at that stage.'

'A few minutes after, you called again and told me to pull the plug, or some such phrase.'

'Correct'

'So something must have happened between the two calls.'

In an effort to react positively, Harry slapped a hand down on the arm of the chair. 'Indeed it had. First, a woman who said she was the housekeeper knocked on the door wanting to change the flowers. That made me suspicious.'

'So how did you react?'

'I let her in.'

'Why?'

'I was trying to act like a normal guest. You don't send the housekeeper away without good reason. It would have drawn attention to us.'

'So she came into the room. What then?'

'She put fresh lilies in a vase. As I mentioned, my suspicion was aroused. After she'd left the room, I went to the window and looked out at the roof garden and spotted a movement. I was horrified. There was this fellow hiding behind a bush and holding a sub-machine-gun. And there was another marksman as well. It was obvious we'd been rumbled.'

'Rumbled?

Rhadi gave an interpretation in Arabic.

'I immediately checked the flowers, and found they contained a bugging device,' Harry continued, underlining