‘You are ridiculous.’
‘Shut up.’ Packer jerked the toe backwards and Pol squealed. ‘You will airmail it yourself, this evening, from Beirut Central Post Office, with instructions for the bank to cable me here immediately it is received and cleared.’ He ran his thumb along the soft cushion of Pol’s toes, reached the little one and slowly pinched. ‘And I’m not making a move until I get that confirmation.’ He pinched harder. ‘It’s something you taught me yourself, Charles — life insurance. Because if anything unfortunate should happen, and I should get killed, that half million is buried in the frozen vaults of Aalau. Think about it, Charles. That’s nearly three-quarters of a million you’re going to have tied up in me.’
Pol gasped with pain. ‘You are a fool. What makes you think you are so important?’
‘You do — or you wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble of getting your old hush-hush friend with the wig to wet-nurse me in France, then air-freight me out here, with full board and lodging.’ He had relaxed his grip on Pol’s toe, and the Frenchman’s face was beginning to sweat.
‘Why do you think I need you?’ Pol asked feebly.
‘To protect your original investment. And, as you said downstairs, to convince Sarah that she’s going to get out of Mamounia alive. That’s what I was hired for originally, remember — long-term planning and instant improvisation.’
Slowly Pol rolled his head from side to side, leaving damp patches on the pillows. ‘It is not worth half a million pounds sterling,’ he murmured.
‘A quarter of a million,’ said Packer.
Pol blinked. ‘Hein?’
‘It’ll be in my name, but half of it goes to Sarah.’ Packer sensed, rather than heard her begin to speak, but held up his free hand, still holding Pol’s little toe in the other. ‘She’s going to be the one taking all the risks, Charles. You don’t even have to shift your arse out of this fortress, let alone put yourself inside the Ruler’s jurisdiction.’
Sarah now spoke from the window. ‘Don’t be stupid, Owen. Charles and I have made our own arrangements, thank you. And if you want the truth I trust him rather more than I do you, after what happened with the necklace he gave me.’ She gave an icy laugh. ‘A quarter of a million pounds tied up in you? I just wonder what I’d have to do to get it!’
He turned stiffly, letting go of Pol’s toe. The light behind the window was fading, but Sarah’s expression was still unclear.
‘These arrangements you’ve made with Charles,’ Packer said slowly. ‘Have you agreed to them all, unconditionally?’ He waited, but she said nothing. ‘When will you do it?’ he went on. ‘While he’s on the job? Or just afterwards, while he’s still exhausted, but hasn’t had time to get bored and summon his bodyguards to throw you out?’ He took a step towards her. ‘Or maybe you’ll choose the moment of climax — that glorious historic moment, never to be forgotten, when the Imperial penis anoints the vaginal font of Miss Sarah Laval-Smith before she —’
She crossed the floor and slapped him hard across the cheek, her fingertips leaving a burning ache in front of his ear. He stepped backwards into the tangled heap of Pol’s sheepskin coat, lost his balance and sat down. From the bed came a shrill laugh.
‘Ah, quel joli spectacle! The great Capitaine Packer floored by a young girl. You see, my friend, she is a young lady of spirit! You should be proud of her.’ Pol had sat up on the bed and was groping for his shoes. ‘I am going to call for some champagne for Sarah and myself. As for you, mon cher, I suggest some fig juice. It may help to purge some of your bad humours.’
CHAPTER 29
‘I am dissatisfied, Minister.’ The Ruler sat on the chesterfield, a varnished bamboo cane with a leather-bound handle balanced across his knee. ‘If I did not honour you with my most profound and absolute trust, I would be tempted to believe that you were deceiving me.’
‘I assure Your Serene Highness —’ Marmut bem Letif stood with his sleek narrow head tilted to one side, his shoes pressed together like a pair of shiny slugs — ‘assure you with all my faith — swear to Your Highness on the dust of my father — that I do not deceive you.’
The Ruler watched him in silence. ‘Perhaps you do not deceive me. But you do not satisfy me. And how, Minister Letif, can I be convinced of the former when the latter is wanting? I do not judge by intentions, but by results. The results, Letif, are inadequate.’
Letif’s limp white features sloped downwards, his eyes following the ridges of bamboo as the Ruler now drew the cane in a sawing motion across the knife edge of his trouser leg. ‘With deep and humble respect to Your Highness — without the services of NAZAK, my resources are severely limited.’
‘NAZAK —’ the word reached Letif like a bolt of cold anger — ‘you speak as though NAZAK was the driving force, the soul of the nation. Do you think I appointed you Minister of the Interior — my direct second-in-command, in charge of the nation’s Security — in order that you might go cowering to Colonel Tamat and his menagerie of licensed torturers and psychopaths?’
Letif’s chin drooped on to his chest. ‘No, Your Serene Highness.’ There was a long silence.
‘You tell me that Dr Zak left the
