Free Chez Max by Jakob Arjouni Page A

kind of in love all the same, and jealous, and what he can do, on account of his position, is to get certain persons – his rivals of a sort - fired from airport security and customs…’
    â€˜What’s in this package, Mr Hallsund?’
    â€˜Oh God, now you’ve caught me after all! A whole box full of diamond chocolates! Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh my God!’
    â€˜Can’t you keep your silly gob shut for half a minute?’
    â€˜Help! Police! I’m laying big juicy charges, I’ve been insulted! Keep my silly gob shut! Is that any way to speak to a man travelling on government business? May I see your name badge, please? You over there, ladies and gentlemen, you’re my witnesses…’
    Meanwhile Inga Hallsund didn’t say a word, but stretched lasciviously on tables and chairs, touching herself and the security officers sensually during the search, sometimes with deliberate provocation, sometimes apparently unintentionally, moaning and squealing, running her tongue over her lips, putting pens, plastic water bottles or anything else that came to hand in her mouth, and playing her part in what the airport staff were soon calling the Inga and Björn Show. A good many of them arranged to take a break on Friday evenings when the flight from Barcelona arrived so as to be near the security area, in the hope of seeing a new turn added to the show.
    You also had to know that at the time Barcelona was the major transit airport for flights from the Greater South, Far South and Farther South regions newly created after the Wars of Liberation, comprising all of what had previously been Africa. Flights from those regions landed in Barcelona without mention of any place of departure, only a numerical code that for the airport staff contained all they needed to know in order to handle the aircraft. Apart from that, it was much the same as with fruit: the airport of a plane’s or passenger’s departure was always given as the first airport where it landed on Euro-Asian territory. For passengers who lived in Barcelona or simply wanted to stay there after landing, that meant going the long way round through Valencia or Montpellier so that they would have the right to leave Barcelona airport. That was why the Hallsunds officially flew back from Spain every Friday evening, and not even they, with the provocative scenes they staged, would have dreamed of proclaiming to the world that they had been in the Greater Far South region. Although the Civil Code did not yet have the clause about attacks on the Euro-Asian community of values on its statutes, so you couldn’t be charged with offences against it, it was already taken for granted in Europe that you didn’t mention the world beyond the Fence unless you were willing to run the risk of being lumped in with the likes of terrorists.
    The security officers, anyway, soon preferred to wave the Hallsunds through, and even refused to be provoked by Björn Hallsund’s challenging references to the jewellery that his wife was still wearing like a proud savage.
    â€˜Hey, dirty pigs, take a look at all those kilos of sparkly stuff my Inga is carrying around with her again. The best possible place to hide a few fine stones from Barcelona, wouldn’t you say?’
    â€˜Please go on through, Mr Hallsund.’
    â€˜Or don’t you at least want a quick look at Inga’s genital piercing? Where’s the security dyke to check up on it? Maybe we’ve fitted a few superb diamonds in those parts too. And look closely – don’t you think it’s all hanging down a little too heavily there, almost like a cow’s udder?’
    â€˜Mr Hallsund, you are holding the other passengers up.’
    â€˜Oh, come on! I can remember days when we were held up for over an hour, just because the security dyke…’
    â€˜Piss off, Hallsund.’
    But with time, evidence piled up that diamonds were being smuggled out