Free The Alamut Ambush by Anthony Price Page B

it’s possible to be these days – they don’t encourage too much P.L.O. talk. Can’t afford to with all that real estate of theirs on the West Bank in Israeli hands, you know. If you don’t stick your neck out you’ll get by – you can say you’re a desalination expert. No one’s likely to know much about that … Just remember half of what I’ve told you and be a good listener – they all want to talk all the time, so that shouldn’t be too difficult…”
    Boredom and tiredness combined to pull away from thirst and discomfort at last, and Roskill’s thoughts wandered back to the morning, when Audley had stood by the Triumph grinning at him triumphantly.
    ‘We got more than we gave away, Hugh – you put up a first-rate show, too. Not too smart to make them think twice — that was just the right note to strike!’
    But that not-too-smartness had not been a consciously-struck note, Roskill had reflected uphappily, grinning back at Audley.
    ‘A put-up job from start to finish, of course,’ Audley had said. ‘They no more suspect Jake Shapiro than I do. It’s this Hassan they’re scared of – Llewelyn believes in him as much as Cox. Which probably means they’ve got more on him than they’re willing to admit. They just want to double-check it through me.’
    ‘So what do we do?’
    ‘We shall do what they want us to do – today, at any rate. You’d better go and see that Foreign Office crammer of theirs this afternoon – and then you can go to that Ryle meeting tonight as Cox suggested. It might even be useful, you never know.’ Audley had rubbed his hands. ‘And I’ve got a lot of catching up to do to find out what the hell’s really happening …’
    Very pleased with himself, David Audley had been, like an old warhorse smelling battle on familiar territory.
    Roskill had been very much less pleased; it might be a jolly game for Audley, but he sensed that in Audley’s game he was becoming something less even than a junior partner. And yet he could see no way of avoiding his downgrading: without Audley he didn’t stand a chance of attaining his own vengeance, and the big man was incapable of playing second fiddle to anyone. So all he could do was to follow instructions, keeping his own counsel and never forgetting his objective.
    ‘And first thing tomorrow you can slip down to Firle and scout around,’ said Audley. ‘You can reach me at home if you turn anything up. After that we may have something of our own to work on.’
    Slip down to Firle! Roskill’s jaw had tightened at that – so easy to say and so agonising to carry out!
    Well, there would come a time maybe when Audley wouldn’t find it so easy to control the action … there would come a time…
    Roskill started guiltily, catching himself in the very act of falling off his chair. He looked around him, fearful lest he had drawn attention to himself, but the rest of the audience seemed either equally withdrawn or, like the fat Arab with the scarred face in the row ahead of him, unhappily restless. There was a subdued undercurrent of movement – of legs stretching and bottoms searching for comfort.
    He looked at his watch again, to find that only another five tortoise-minutes had crawled past. The bloody man was still only at the beginning of the 19th century.
    ‘ . .. and so we come to what may be considered the dawn of modern times…
    The speaker paused to consult his notes. But as he raised his head, his mouth opening to greet the dawn, the fat Arab began to clap vigorously.
    For a moment it was touch and go; the speaker looked around wildly and those of the audience who were still with him stirred uneasily. But the Arab clapped more enthusiastically than ever, looking to left and right as though to shame the laggards into action.
    The crammer’s advice not to draw attention to himself flashed through Roskill’s mind, only to be instantly extinguished as his hands came together on their own initiative. The woman on his left