insistence that the only way to treat a badly wounded penis was to apply a tourniquet. 'But not around my scrotum,' shouted Abnekov.
'It stops the venom getting into the bloodstream,' said Sir Arnold, with a peculiar logic that stemmed from his experience of treating snakebite victims in the Tropics.
'Not the only thing it stops,' yelled the Russian. 'You want to castrate me or something?'
'I suppose we could try cauterizing it as well,' said Sir Arnold, getting his own back for the Soviet delegate's accusations that he was personally responsible for the atrocities committed by the British Army in Ireland.
Dr Keister intervened. 'Perhaps I may be of assistance,' she said. 'In Denmark I have had experiences with the genitals of sexual offenders and '
'I am not a sex offender, you filthy cow. You do what you like in your rotten little country with all your pornography but if you touch me you'll learn what a sex offence is.'
'In Africa,' said Professor Manake, 'Some of the less progressive peoples still practise female circumcision. In Ghana it is naturally unknown but elsewhere I have studied initiation rites among males. They are a symbolic preparation for manhood.'
'And what's that got to do with me, you bloody witch-doctor?' yelled Abnekov. 'There's nothing symbolic about my manhood. And stop twisting that piece of string, you imperialist pig.'
'Actually, it's my last pipe-cleaner,' said Sir Arnold. 'Still if you want to bleed to death I suppose you're entitled to.'
Under the table Dr Grenoy and Professor Badiglioni was arguing about the theory and origins of international terrorism. The Italian placed the blame squarely on Robespierre, Babeuf, Blanqui, Sorel and any other Frenchman he could think of, while Dr Grenoy countered with the Carbonari, the Mafia, Mussolini and Gramasci, whom he'd never read. The shooting of Botwyk had put all thought of the Countess' connection with gangsters in Las Vegas out of his mind.
Only Pastor Laudenbach and Sheikh Fahd bin Riyal, united by their faith in a spiritual future and certain unspoken prejudices, remained unmoved. 'It is the will of Allah. The Western world is decadent and the infidel Botwyk was clearly a Zionist. He refused to acknowledge that the return of Jerusalem and all Arab lands can only be achieved by force of arms. It is the same with Berlin and the occupied East Bank of your country.'
'I hadn't thought of it like that before,' said the Pastor. 'We have much to feel guilty about.'
In the darkness the Saudi delegate smiled. He was thinking wistfully of Eichmann.
Far to the north, Slymne drove down the M1 at ninety miles an hour. He wasn't wasting time on side roads and the Major's suggestions, made at frequent intervals, that they stop the night in a hotel had been ignored. 'You heard what the Head said,' he told the Major. 'This could be the ruination of us all.'
'Won't be much of me left to ruin at this rate,' said the Major and shifted his weight on the inner tube.
Chapter 20
Halfway down the drive the Countess paused in her flight. Too many days in the kitchen hadn't equipped her for long-distance running and anyway she hadn't been shot at. Nobody had chased after her either. She sat down on the wall to get her breath back and considered the situation grimly. She might have saved her life but she'd also lost her life savings. The seven little gold bars in the suitcase had been her guarantee of independence. Without them she was tied to the damned Chateau and the kitchen stove. Worse still, she might have to go elsewhere and struggle on satisfying the whims and lusts of men, either as someone's cook, housekeeper and general bottle-washer or, more distastefully still, as a wife. She would lose the bungalow in Bognor Regis and the chance of resuming her interrupted identity as Constance Sugg safe in the knowledge that her past was well and truly behind her. It was an appalling prospect and wasn't helped by
