It soon turned out, though, that the movie star wasn’t the afternoon’s top attraction. More men emerged from the building, a green-blazered phalanx driving through the crowd like a plough to clear a path across the sidewalk. Someone cried ‘It’s Osir!’ - and as one, the throng turned to watch a longer limo arrive.
If Grant had been greeted with enthusiasm, this was nearer to hysteria. To Eddie’s amusement, a hand that had been outstretched to Grant was snatched away just as he reached for it, leaving the actor with a brief expression of startled hurt. The minders flanked the limo’s door.
Khalid Osir climbed out.
Even at first glance, Eddie could tell Osir had that special quality possessed only by a lucky few - a natural, powerful charisma, evident in the easy confidence with which he moved and the irrepressible sparkle in his eyes. Eddie guessed him to be in his mid-forties, though he somehow got the feeling that Osir was older than he appeared. And while Grant was a movie star, a man of the moment who had made it with the help of good looks, modest talent and a great agent, Osir looked more like a movie legend, someone who would outshine younger rivals generation after generation. He glanced at his client. Grant’s face was a mix of awe and a hint of jealousy.
‘Hello, my friends!’ the cult leader boomed over the cheering. ‘I’m so happy to see so many of you here today. May the light of the sun-god Ra bless you all!’
‘May the spirit of Osiris protect and strengthen you!’ people chanted in reply. Even Grant joined in, though he accidentally transposed ‘protect’ and ‘strengthen’. Osir beamed and made his way to the building, talking to his followers along the way. Eddie couldn’t help noticing that attractive women got the lion’s share of his attention.
Another man had meanwhile stepped out of the limo, practically unnoticed by the crowd - though his scowl immediately stood out amongst the smiles, and the third man who followed him set off warning bells at the back of Eddie’s mind. It was obvious from his features that the second man was closely related to Osir - a brother? - but it was equally plain that his sibling had been more favourably blessed both by the genetic lottery and by life itself, his own harder, thinner face scarred by a major burn across his right cheek. His wiry, greasy-haired companion in the snakeskin jacket, meanwhile, looked like a redneck, but from his alert stance and attitude Eddie could instantly tell he was ex-military.
Osir reached the door to find Grant waiting for him. ‘Ah, Mr Thorn!’ he said, clasping the actor’s hand and shaking it firmly. Cameras flashed in the crowd; the two men instinctively turned to face them with their widest smiles. ‘It’s so good to finally meet you.’
‘Same here, Mr Osir,’ said Grant.
‘Call me Khalid, please. I feel like I know you already from your movies.’
Grant grinned, pleased. ‘Really? Cool! I’ve tried to watch all of yours, but they’re kind of hard to get on Netflix. I saw Osiris and Set, though. You were awesome in that.’
Osir waved a hand modestly. ‘You must visit the Osirian Temple’s headquarters in Switzerland, and I will show you the others. Come whenever you like; my door is always open. But acting is behind me now - I have a new calling. And I am so very pleased that you,’ he turned to address the crowd, ‘that all of you have chosen to follow me on this incredible journey. There are already tens of thousands of us, all around the world, and our numbers will grow as more discover that only through the teachings of Osiris can true immortality be found. We shall all live for ever!’ He raised his hands, the crowd cheering again.
His brother impatiently gave an order, and the minders pushed the crowd back. One opened the door, and with another wave Osir went inside with his companions, the man in snakeskin giving Eddie a disdainful look.
Grant went to the door, but hesitated when he realised Eddie wasn’t following. ‘What’s up?’
‘It’s not really my kind of thing. You go in; I’ll wait for you.’
‘No, come on, man. You listen to what he’s got to say - it’ll change your life. You’ll be able to reverse your ageing, look like you’re in your thirties again.’
‘I am in my thirties,’ Eddie told him frostily.
‘Really? Whoa. No offence, dude. You just look kinda . . . battered.’ Realising his words weren’t thawing his bodyguard, Grant changed his mind. ‘Okay, you . . . wait for me. Yeah.’
‘Have fun, Mr Thorn,’ Eddie said as Grant went inside. He shook his head, grinning faintly. His employer was living proof that some people would believe anything.
Still, at least the Osirian Temple appeared to be the harmless kind of crank cult.
Several hours later, Eddie returned home. ‘So how did it go at the UN?’ he asked as he entered the apartment - and saw that today’s wine bottle was fully empty. ‘Oh.’
‘It was absolutely goddamn horrible,’ said Nina, scowling. She had only felt up to calling Hogarth a few hours earlier, and the act of relating the argument had made her angry all over again. ‘I didn’t accomplish anything at all, and Maureen was an utter bitch who ended up making me feel this big.’ She waved an unsteady hand at him, holding her thumb and forefinger less than an inch apart. ‘I shouldn’t have gone. I wouldn’t have gone if you hadn’t forced me.’
‘I didn’t force you,’ Eddie objected.
‘Yeah, you did! You might as well have carried me there in a sack!’
He shook his head. ‘Jesus! Rothschild’s the one who pissed you off, so why’re you having a go at me?’
‘Because you’re here!’ she cried. ‘For a change.’
‘Oh, for Christ’s sake,’ Eddie sighed. ‘Not this again. I was working! I offered to try to work something out with Charlie yesterday, and you told me not to.’
The mention of Charlie reminded Nina of something. ‘Where were you this morning? I tried calling you, but you didn’t answer your phone.’
‘Probably ’cause I was working. I’m not supposed to take personal calls when I’m on the clock. You know that.’
‘But you weren’t when I called you, though. Charlie phoned me - he couldn’t get hold of you and asked if I knew where you were.’
He hesitated, uneasy. ‘What time was this?’
‘After I left the UN. About half past one.’
‘Oh, right. Yeah, I was with Grant Thorn.’
‘That’s funny,’ said Nina, amusement far from her face. ‘Charlie told me you weren’t working until later.’
The sound of wheels spinning in his head was almost audible. ‘That’s ’cause . . . I was doing Grant a favour. Off the books.’
‘What sort of favour?’
‘He wanted me to pick him up some orange juice.’ Seeing her dubious look, he went on: ‘Seriously! Lazy sod couldn’t be bothered to walk a block to get it himself.’
‘I thought you had a policy about not doing that sort of thing. Y’know, the whole bodyguard not butler principle.’
‘Well, when he offers to pay me an extra five hundred bucks it’s more like a guideline.’
‘He paid you five hundred dollars to get orange juice?’
He retrieved yesterday’s wad of notes from his jacket and tossed it on to the table. ‘See? Bloke really does have more money than sense.’