Bathsheba pulled a juice bottle from the fridge. “I hate waiting like this. We need to take the initiative. What if Abu Yusef drops another bomb?”
“ Another? He didn’t attack the synagogue,” Elie said, “and he won’t act until he gets more money.”
Bathsheba was unfazed. “How do you know the prince will contact Abu Yusef? Maybe they’ve already arranged it or maybe he’ll call from a public pay phone, like you do all the time to hide things from us-which is insulting, by the way.”
“ You miss the point,” Elie said, ignoring her gripe. “Prince Abusalim is no passive donor, but a businessman with an ambitious agenda. And he’s too spoiled to be inconvenienced by pay phones. Especially now, after he almost lost everything, he’ll be even more eager to secure his birthright. He will lead us to Abu Yusef, and we’ll take them both down.”
“ What birthright?” Bathsheba laughed. “He’s a rich Saudi with a taste for rough sex.”
“ Not so simple,” Gideon said. “The last Quraysh to rule Mecca was Abd Allah ibn az-Zubayr-a direct ancestor of Prince Abusalim, who’s next in line to lead this old and bitter dynasty.”
“That’s right,” Elie said. “His dreams of prominence have deep roots in history. He won’t wait for another quarrel with his father.” Resting his hand on the carved wooden cover of his bible, Elie added, “It’s a story as old as time.”
“ I think we should break into his suite as soon as he arrives,” Bathsheba said, “and start chopping off his toes one by one until he tells us where to find Abu Yusef.”
“You’re so eager to inflict pain.” Elie twisted his face, the skin as taut as wax paper over his facial bones. “Pain is a fine tool for the right occasion. In this case, inflicting pain on the prince is like using a screwdriver on a nail. He doesn’t know Abu Yusef’s hiding place, and therefore he’d be useless to us without his toes.”
Gideon laughed, but Bathsheba pressed on. “So that’s it? We wait for another transfer to Senlis and follow Abu Yusef home? And then what? How are you planning to get through all those men protecting him?”
*
The medics arrived within minutes and took over the resuscitation effort. Lemmy sat down and watched them work with efficiency and skill until they brought back a pulse.
When they rolled Herr Hoffgeitz out of the building, a few spectators stood on the pavement by the waiting ambulance.
“Call Paula,” Lemmy told Christopher. “Tell her I’ll meet her at the hospital.” He climbed in after the gurney, the doors closed, and the ambulance sped away.
Armande Hoffgeitz was admitted to the cardiac ICU at Zurich University Hospital. Paula arrived moments later, and so did Armande’s long-time physician, Dr. Spilman, who went in to consult with the hospital staff.
An hour later, Dr. Spilman came out to speak with them. He hugged Paula, who had known him since childhood. “It’s not good,” he said. “His condition has stabilized, but it’s too early to predict the chances of recovery.”
“ He’s a strong man,” Paula said. “Look, he’s still alive, right?”
“ Only because of this young man.” Dr. Spilman patted Lemmy’s shoulder. “Another minute or two, and he would have left us forever.”
Paula stayed with her father, and Lemmy took a taxi back to the bank. Christopher was waiting for him. They hurried up the stairs.
Gunter stood in front of Herr Hoffgeitz’s door. His lips trembled.
“It’s touch and go,” Lemmy said. “He’s very ill.”
Gunter did not move from the door. He took off his glasses and began shining them nervously with his tie.
“Dr. Spilman and Paula are with him.” Lemmy took a step closer. “I’d like to check his office, in case he took some medications before-”
“I’ve already checked. No medications in there.”
“I must insist.”
“But Herr Hoffgeitz left instructions for such an event.” Gunter pulled a sheet of paper from his breast pocket. “I am responsible for all his accounts. Me alone!”
“ For up to thirty days-while I run the bank’s affairs on behalf of the family.”
“ Maybe longer. The board of directors shall meet and decide.”
“ Their job is to appoint a qualified person to take over. Do you feel qualified to run this bank?” Not waiting for an answer, Lemmy turned to go.
“Would you like to see the instructions?”
“I have my own copy.” Halfway down the stairs, Lemmy paused. “Were you in Herr Hoffgeitz’s office when he collapsed?”
Gunter stepped back as if physically assaulted. “Of course not! I would have called for help!”
“ You seemed upset when I came in this morning.”
Gunter hesitated. “We received a phone call. Very disturbing.”
“Why?”
He clearly did not want to say any more, but the desire to defend himself tipped the scales. “A man called, pretending to represent someone else.”
“ Who?”
“ He has done it before. Many years ago.”
“ Done what?”
“ Pretended to represent someone else.”
“Who?”
“An old friend of Herr Hoffgeitz.”
“Let me see if I get it straight.” Lemmy blew air in feigned frustration. “Many years ago a man called-”
“ Visited. In person.”
“ When?”
“ In sixty-seven.”
“ Twenty-eight years ago?”
Gunter nodded. “He had the signed ledger that recorded all of the deposits, but he didn’t have the account number and the password.”
“ So he went away, and after all these years, he called again this morning, claiming to speak for an old friend of Herr Hoffgeitz. I assume that friend still has an account with us, yes?”
“ It’s complicated.” Gunter seemed ready to collapse. “Herr Hoffgeitz was very angry.”
*
Bathsheba brought Chinese takeout. Elie wasn’t hungry. He stayed in the bedroom, reading his bible with a cigarette in hand. The two of them ate outside on the balcony, Gideon with a paperback edition of Robert Ludlum’s The Bourne Identity and Bathsheba with the binoculars, examining every detail on the imposing structure of the Eiffel Tower. Below, heavy traffic snarled across the Seine River on Pont de Bir Hakeim.
When the sun went down, Gideon went inside and lay on the sofa to read.
Close to midnight, the lights blinked on the eavesdropping equipment. He grabbed the headset and listened. Bathsheba called Elie from the bedroom.
When the conversation ended, Gideon took off the headset. He shook his head. “Unbelievable! Just unbelievable!”
“ Play it from the beginning,” Elie said.
The prince said, “Hello?”
“Allah’s blessings, Excellency.” The caller spoke with an Arabic accent.
“ Insha’Allah.”
“Your generosity was put to good use. The Palestinian revolution is indebted to you forever.”
Prince Abusalim hesitated for a moment. “The suffering of our Palestinian brothers is a bleeding wound in the heart of every Arab.”
“Indeed, indeed.” Abu Yusef exhaled audibly. “May Allah open the eyes of our more fortunate brothers so they follow your example.”
“Your courage is certain to break through their hardened souls. Though next time you should care not to hurt the French, our hosts.”
“Indeed it was unfortunate.” Abu Yusef sighed. “But when you cut wood, chips fall. We are fighting for the Haram El-Sharif, which deserves your guardianship, as destiny has prescribed, to spread the rule of Allah under the Koran.”
“ Insha’Allah.”
“ Our operation last week was just the beginning. Allah will bring us victory. And he will bless you with fortunes ten times your generosity.”
“Yes,” said Prince Abusalim, “I think He will. How much do you need?”
“The fight is long and costly. Very costly.”
“ Truth is, I’m having some difficulties right now.”
“ I understand.” Abu Yusef paused. “Can we help?”
“There is a man who stands in my way. He will be in Paris soon.”
“We shall be honored to remove that man from your way.”
“ Five million dollars.”
“Excellency!” Abu Yusef uttered a strange chuckle, probably out of shock at the size of the reward. “Your friendship alone is a sufficient gift. But of course, we accept!”