Выбрать главу

I shook my head. “You must know, Comrade Salah, that no ship’s master is going to take orders about the course and speed of his ship from passengers.”

“Not even if those orders are transmitted to him by the owners before sailing?”

I hesitated. “That would depend on the orders. No captain is going to hazard his ship or his crew, and on that coast no Agence Howell captain would take even the smallest risk. In particular, he would take the greatest care,” I added meaningly, “not to enter territorial waters.”

“He would not be required to enter territorial waters, nor to hazard his ship. The course would take him very slightly out of the normal shipping lanes for a period of two hours at reduced speed. Nothing more.”

I thought for a moment about the captain of the Euridice Howell. He was a middle-aged Greek, a dignified, highly respectable man with a plump wife and seven children. Ashore as well as afloat he was a strict disciplinarian. The prospect of having to persuade this valued employee that Ghaled’s orders about course and speed, however innocuous they might appear, were to be obeyed without question was not one that I cared to contemplate.

“Have you any special reason for using the Euridice?” I asked.

“Only that this is a normal passage for her to make and that she is known to make it regularly.”

“We have other ships making it all the time. You said, Comrade Salah, that finding convincing commercial Justification for this sailing at this precise time and with passengers is my affair. I must tell you that with the Euridice Howell it would be difficult to find convincing justification. It is really a question of how discreet we have to be. If discretion does not matter …”

“Of course it matters. There must be absolute discretion.”

“Then we should not use the Euridice.”

“What ship, then?”

“I would like time to think about that, Comrade Salah.” In fact, I had already thought, but in terms of amenable captains rather than suitable ships. The captain I had in mind was a swashbuckling Tunisian who had been a prosperous hashish smuggler until business rivals had shot him up in his fast motorboat off the toe of Italy. After some time on the beach he had come to work for us. Touzani was an efficient captain, but although he had kept his nose clean with us, I suspected that he was still in touch with his former associates. He wouldn’t question strange orders, I thought, whatever he might think of them privately; and he would keep his mouth shut.

“Very well,” said Ghaled, “but do not say that you have not been given sufficient time to make the necessary arrangements. As soon as you have the name of the ship you will inform me.”

“At once.”

“It must be an iron ship, you understand, and no smaller than the Euridice Howell.

“She would be of about the same tonnage.”

“Progress reports on your various tasks should be made through Comrade Issa, who will also transmit further orders.”

‘’Yes, Comrade Salah.”

“Then you may go now.”

We went. Teresa, tight-lipped, was obviously seething with various suppressed emotions. I assumed that the predominant ones would be a sense of outrage and indignation directed against Ghaled. It wasn’t until Ahmad and Musa had left us at the gate that I found that I had been mistaken. Her quarrel was with me.

“You think that he’s insane, don’t you?” she said abruptly. There was accusation in her voice.

The question disconcerted me. Until then I had thought of Ghaled as a violent and dangerous animal. It hadn’t occurred to me to think about him in terms of sanity or insanity. I am not a psychiatrist.

I said as much.

“But you have been treating him as if he were insane, haven’t you? Insane or stupid?”

“I certainly don’t think he’s stupid.”

“Hearing you this evening one would never have guessed it.”

“You mean I humoured him too obviously?”

“I mean that you humoured him one moment and challenged him the next. Worse, you pretended to be afraid of him and then demonstrated that you weren’t.”

“Well, I am, dammit! I am afraid of him.”

“You concealed the fact too well. Now, he doesn't know what to make of you. Are you to be trusted or aren’t you? That’s what he’s wondering. Your attitudes weren’t consistent.”

I sighed. “I’m not used to dealing with Ghaled. What would you have done?”

“Given in on all points. Created no obstacles. Agreed to everything.”

“And then what?”

“Run. At least we can still do that. Get out as soon as we can.”

“And hide from his killer squads?”

“He was bluffing. What could he do to us in Rome?”

“Our businesses are in the Arab countries, and he knows it. We’re also foreigners and vulnerable. There’s no bluff about that.”

“Then liquidate the businesses, Michael. Sell the ships. Your family wouldn’t care. You’d all still be rich.”

I stared at her in amazement. She made a performance of shoving the key into the ignition, but wouldn’t look at me.

“Liquidate because of Ghaled?” I demanded. “Are you serious?”

She paused before answering. “You’ve thought of it yourself,” she said. “You know you have. And not just because of Ghaled and the PAF. You don’t think the Agence Howell has a future in the Middle East. You think that it has had its day. I know, Michael. I know very well.”

“Splendid! May I know how?”

“It’s no good taking that tone with me, Michael. You must know that I, at least, am not stupid. What is all this business you are doing here but a process of liquidation? You won’t admit it, but getting out is what you really want-on your own terms, of course, and in good order-but soon. The Howells have had a good run for their money, but for them there is no longer security of tenure in this part of the world. Your mother knows it, I am quite sure.”

“Mama?” I laughed.

“Certainly. She as good as told me so once, before I became persona non grata. She must have told you. The best suites in five-star French hotels, plenty of bridge with good players, and remote control over the upbringing of her grandchildren-that’s her plan for the future. Monaco in winter, Evian in Summer, a Rolls-Royce and chauffeur and her Lebanese personal maid. You know it’s true, Michael.”

“And you think I share my mother’s tastes?”

“No,” she said, “you’ll always work. But not here. You don’t often give yourself away, but you did this morning.”

“I did?”

“That one place where we could go to ground quickly and be absolutely safe from the PAF.”

“What about it?”

“It was Israel you were talking about, wasn’t it?”

“It was. Naturally, that would only be a last resort.”

“Naturally. The presence of Michael Howell in Israel, as soon as it was known about, would make the trading position of the Agence Howell extremely difficult. Liquidation would no longer be a matter of choice. It would become involuntary.”

“I'm well aware of that. As I said, a last resort in an emergency situation.”

“But you did consider it. Bad for business, yes, but not out of the question even so. You see, Michael?”

I wasn’t prepared to listen to much more. “Do you want to run?” I demanded.

“Alone, you mean?”

I said nothing.

She persisted. “Alone, leaving you to explain my defection to Ghaled?”

“You can if you want to.”

“That, Michael, is either unkind or silly.”

“I’m tired. Let’s go home.”

“Very well.”

It wasn’t until we were reentering the city that she spoke again.

“What did Ghaled mean by the thirty-second parallel?” she asked.

I was thinking about metric thread tables and did not reply for a moment.