Honour Among Thieves Read Free Page B

Foreign Minister with the
details of your triumph,’ added the Ambassador with a smile.
    Al
Obaydi would also have smiled, but he realised the Ambassador would not admit
to any personal involvement with the project while it was still in its
formative stage. As long as he distanced himself from his younger colleague for
the time being, the Ambassador could continue his undisturbed existence in New
York until his retirement fell due in three years’ time. By following such a
course he had survived almost fourteen years of Saddam Hussein’s reign while
many of his colleagues had conspicuously failed to become eligible for their
state pension. To his knowledge one had been shot in front of his family, two
hanged and several others posted as ‘missing’, whatever that meant.
    The
Iraqi Ambassador smiled as his British counterpart walked past him, but he
received no response for his trouble.
    ‘Stuck-up
snob,’ the Arab muttered under his breath.
    The
Ambassador pulled the earpiece back over his ear to indicate that he had heard
quite enough from his number two. He continued to listen to the problems of
trying to preserve the rainforests of Brazil, coupled with a request for a
further grant from the UN of a hundred million dollars.
    Not
something he felt Sayedi would be interested in.
    Hannah
would have knocked on the front door of the little terraced house, but it was
opened even before she had closed the broken gate at the end of the pathway. A
dark-haired, slightly overweight lady, heavily made-up and with a beaming smile
came bustling out to greet her. Hannah supposed she would have been about the
same age as her mother, had Mama still been alive.
    ‘Welcome
to England, my dear. I’m Ethel Rubin,’ she announced in gushing tones. ‘I’m
sorry my husband’s not here to meet you, but I don’t expect him back from his
chambers for another hour.’ Hannah was about to speak when Ethel added, ‘But
first let me show you your room, and then you can tell me all your plans.’ She
picked up one of Hannah’s bags and led her inside. ‘It must be such fun seeing
London for the first time,’ she said as they climbed the stairs, ‘and there
will be so many exciting things for you to do during the next six months.’
    As
each sentence poured out Hannah became aware that Ethel Rubin had no idea why
she was in London.
    After
she had unpacked and taken a shower Hannah joined her hostess in the sitting
room. Mrs Rubin chatted on, barely listening to Hannah’s intermittent replies.
    ‘Do
you know where the nearest gym is?’ Hannah had asked.
    ‘My
husband should be back at any moment,’ Mrs Rubin replied. But before she could
get the next sentence out, the front door swung open and a man of about five
foot three with dark, wiry hair and even darker eyes almost ran into the room.
Once Peter Rubin had introduced himself and asked how her flight had been he
didn’t waste any words suggesting that Hannah might have come to London to
enjoy the social life of the metropolis. Hannah quickly learned that Peter
Rubin didn’t ask any questions he realised she couldn’t answer truthfully.
Although Hannah felt sure Mr Rubin knew no details of her mission, he was
obviously aware that she hadn’t come to London on a package holiday.
    Mrs
Rubin, however, didn’t allow Hannah to get to bed until well after midnight, by
which time she was exhausted. Once her head had touched the pillow she slept
soundly, unaware of Peter Rubin explaining to his wife in the kitchen that in
future their guest must be left in peace.

Chapter 3
    T HE DEPUTY
AMBASSADOR’S chauffeur slipped out of the UN’s private garage and headed west
through the Lincoln Tunnel under the Hudson in the direction of New Jersey.
Neither Al Obaydi nor he spoke for several minutes while the driver continually
checked his rear-view mirror. Once they were on the New Jersey Turnpike he
confirmed that no one was following them.
    ‘Good,’
was all Al Obaydi offered. He began