Free Cut to the Chase by Ray Scott Page A

crossing the street with Kalim and entering the new shopping complex. Kalim entered a photography shop while Wallace waited outside and put his film in to be developed. It was one of those instant development shops, or at least nearly so, the sign outside in English said development within two hours. He came out inserting another film into his camera.
    â€˜One these days I must invest in a digital camera,’ Kalim remarked and laughed. ‘It’s so much easier. Would you care for a coffee?’
    â€˜Well . . I…!’
    â€˜There’s a small coffee shop along here, shall we go?’ And such was his pleasant manner that Wallace followed him without demur. He looked carefully around but he could see nobody who looked like an undercover policeman.

    Wallace sat in his room and considered what he should wear for dinner. He had had a pleasant afternoon with Julius Kalim, eventually he had forgotten his fears and begun to wonder whether Major Lincoln was right after all that after the flash drive had been handed over nobody would be interested any longer. They had had a coffee and then wandered through the shopping centre where Wallace purchased a small camera that had been a bargain. Kalim had done all the haggling and had beaten the shop-keeper down to less than 50% of the original asking price.
    â€˜How did you do it?’ Wallace asked in wonderment.
    â€˜Ah…! Long practice,’ Kalim smiled. ‘When you have been on the other side of the fence…or the haggle…you can detect a point at which the items will be sold or at least where the price is still acceptable. They always start off far too high. Even the most gullible tourist knows that, the secret is being aware of how far you can go. It’s all in the way the hands are moved, in the words and the facial expressions. After a while you can sense it. In this particular case, had we gone any lower he would have been making next to nothing, as it is he made a not unreasonable profit and you paid the right price.’
    â€˜He didn’t look too happy.’
    â€˜Ah, that is all part of the sales technique. He knows you could be back tomorrow, and if he looks displeased, or upset and disappointed today, you may possibly feel under an obligation to him tomorrow for obtaining what could be termed today’s bargain. You could probably feel guilt about his starving children that his facial expression and body language conveys to you and be a softer target should your paths cross tomorrow.’
    That made sense, Wallace had no doubt that the lines of any preliminary skirmish would be different tomorrow. He resolved to avoid that particular shop on the way back to the hotel.
    They had arranged to meet for dinner at the hotel, Wallace was determined – Kalim or no Kalim – that he would not stir from the security of the building after sunset, nor would he leave it subsequently until it was time to leave for the flight at midday the next day. Wallace had already telephoned Major Lincoln and told him that he wanted an embassy car to take him to the airport the next day, he was not going to travel by cab – maybe he had been guilty of watching too many spy thrillers on television, but he still feared the possibility of being kidnapped. Those two thugs had been a trifle too tenacious for his liking. There had been a short, sharp argument, but Lincoln had finally grudgingly agreed to send one of his minions.
    Kalim rose to his feet as Wallace entered the dining room and the waiter ushered him to the table.
    â€˜Would you join me in an aperitif?’ he asked, and waved to the waiter before Wallace had a chance to reply. He seemed to be studying Wallace closely as they sipped their drinks.
    â€˜You are English, are you not?’ Kalim enquired.
    â€˜No, Australian,’ Wallace answered.
    â€˜My apologies, I thought I detected a trace of an English accent, southern counties to be precise.’
    Wallace told