“Security.”
“Exactly,” Zizi said.
“Who’s the chief of your art department?”
“At the moment, it’s me. But I’d like you to take over that job.”
“What about Andrew Malone?”
“Andrew Malone is no longer working for me.” Zizi fussed for a moment with his prayer beads. His eyes went again to the television screen and remained there while he spoke. “My arrangement with Andrew was supposed to be exclusive. I paid him a generous retainer. In return he was to give me advice with no possible conflict of interest on his part. As it turned out, Andrew repeatedly betrayed me. For the last several years he’s been taking money from me and from the people I’ve been buying from, a flagrant violation of our agreement. Among the dealers and collectors who made payments to Andrew in violation of his contract was Julian Isherwood.” He looked at her. “Were you aware of any cash payment by Julian Isherwood to Andrew Malone?”
“I wasn’t,” she said. “And if it happened, I’m sorry.”
“I believe you,” he said. “Andrew would have sworn Julian to secrecy. He was careful to cover his tracks in his double dealings. Unfortunately he could not hide the evidence of his betrayal inside his bank accounts. That’s how we found out about it.”
He made another glance at the television and frowned. “The job I have in mind for you is much larger than Andrew’s. Not only will you assist me in the acquisition of works, but you will also be responsible for the care and conservation of the collection. It’s my intention to begin lending some of my pieces to European and American museums as a means of fostering better cultural relations between my country and the West. As a former curator, you are more than suited to manage those transactions.” He scrutinized her for a moment. “Would you be interested in such a position?”
“I would, but-”
“-but you would like to discuss money and benefits before giving me an answer, which I understand completely. If you don’t mind my asking, how much is Julian paying you now?”
“Actually, I think I would mind.”
He sighed heavily and gave his prayer beads a twirl. “Is it your intention to make this as difficult as possible?”
“I try not to make a habit of negotiating against myself.”
“I’m prepared to pay you a salary of five hundred thousand dollars a year, plus housing, plus an unlimited expense account. The job would require a great deal of travel-and, of course, you would be spending a great deal of time with me and my extended family. That was the reason I invited you on this cruise. I wanted you to get to know us. I trust you’ve enjoyed yourself and our hospitality.”
“Very much,” she said.
He held up his hands. “Well?”
“I’ll need a guaranteed contract of three years.”
“Done.”
“Five hundred the first year, six hundred the second, and seven fifty the third.”
“Done.”
“And then there’s the signing bonus.”
“Name your figure.”
“Two hundred and fifty thousand.”
“I was prepared to give you another five hundred. Do we have a deal?”
“I believe we do.” Her smile quickly faded. “I’m not looking forward to telling Julian about it.”
“It’s just business, Sarah. Julian will understand.”
“He’s going to feel very hurt.”
“Perhaps it would be easier if I spoke to him.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll do it myself. I owe it to him.”
“You’re obviously a woman of integrity.” He stood suddenly. “I’ll instruct the lawyers to draw up your contract. Herr Wehrli will issue you a check for your signing bonus, along with an AAB credit card for your expenses.” He extended his hand. “Welcome to the family, Sarah.”
She shook it, then moved toward the door.
“Sarah?”
She turned around.
“Please don’t make the same mistake Andrew did. As you can see I’m very generous to the people who work for me, but I get very angry when they betray me.”
JULIAN ISHERWOOD, upon hearing the news, was predictably appalled. He railed against Zizi, then against Sarah. “Don’t bother coming back to the gallery for your things!” he shouted. “You’re not welcome here-you or your bloody Saudi sheikh!” After slamming down the phone he made his way over to Green’s, where he found Oliver Dimbleby and Jeremy Crabbe huddled conspiratorially at the end of the bar.
“Why the long face, Julie?” Dimbleby asked a touch too gleefully.
“I’ve lost her.”
“Who?”
“Sarah,” said Isherwood. “She’s left me for Zizi al-Bakari.”
“Don’t tell me she’s actually taken Andrew Malone’s old job.”
Isherwood nodded solemnly.
“Tell her to stay out of Zizi’s cookie jar,” said Crabbe. “He’ll chop off her hand. Legal there, you know.”
“How did he get her?” Dimbleby asked.
“Money, of course. That’s how they get everything.”
“True, indeed,” said Dimbleby. “At least we still have the lovely Elena.” We do, thought Isherwood. But for how long?
FOUR THOUSAND MILES away, aboard Sun Dancer, Gabriel shared in Isherwood’s gloomy mood, though for very different reasons. After hearing news of Sarah’s hiring he retreated to his outpost at the prow, refusing to acknowledge the congratulations offered him by the rest of his team.
“What’s his problem?” Yaakov asked Lavon. “He actually did it! He’s put an agent inside Jihad Incorporated!”
“Yes,” said Lavon. “And one day he’ll have to get her out again.”
24.
ZIZI’S SECRET DESTINATION TURNED out to be the French island of Saint-Barthélemy. They arrived the following morning and dropped anchor off Gustavia, the island’s picturesque port and administrative capital. Sarah was finishing her workout when Nadia came into the gym, dressed in a flattering white bikini and sheer white beach dress.
“Why aren’t you ready?” she asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m taking you to Saline Beach -the greatest beach in the world.”
When Sarah hesitated, Nadia touched her arm affectionately. “Listen, Sarah, I know I haven’t been terribly friendly since you arrived, but we’re going to be spending a lot of time together now that you’re working for my father. We might as well be friends.”
Sarah made a show of thought. “I need ten minutes.”
“Five.” Nadia smiled warmly. “What do you expect? I’m my father’s daughter.”
Sarah went up to her cabin, showered quickly, and changed into a bathing suit and a sundress. She dropped a few things into her new beach bag, then went astern. Nadia was already aboard the launch, along with Rafiq al-Kamal and Jafar Sharuki. Jean-Michel was behind the wheel, checking the instrument panel.
“Just us?” Sarah asked as she climbed aboard and settled next to Nadia in the forward compartment.
“Rahimah might join us later,” Nadia said. “But to tell you the truth, I hope she doesn’t. I could use a break from her.”
Jean-Michel eased the boat away from Alexandra’s stern, then increased the throttle and sped away. They raced along the southern side of the island, past the outskirts of Gustavia, then around the Grande Pointe. Two minutes later they entered a small bay guarded at either end by rugged outcroppings of gray-brown volcanic rock. Between the rocks, and beneath a sky of intense luminous blue, lay a sweeping crescent beach. “Welcome to Saline,” Nadia said.
Jean-Michel guided the craft carefully through the gentle breakers and came to a stop a few yards from the shoreline. Rafiq and Sharuki leaped overboard into the shallow water and made their way to the prow. Nadia stood and slipped overboard into Rafiq’s powerful arms. “It’s the best part about having bodyguards,” she said. “You never have to get wet on the way to the beach.”