“Nicos,” whispered Kholi unnecessarily.
“Introduce me?” urged Janet, despite their earlier agreement.
The Lebanese hesitated, looking for guidance to his wife, who grimaced with the corners of her mouth down, in a “so-what” expression.
Kholi moved, cupping Janet’s arm to move her with him. She followed the man around the crush of the bar and saw Nicos turn and look without any recognition at Kholi’s touch to his arm. The man’s face remained empty despite Kholi’s mouth-to-ear explanation, only opening in recollection when Kholi took the earlier department store photograph from his pocket and offered it to the man.
“She wants something out of Beirut, too,” said Kholi, indicating Janet.
For the first time Nicos looked at her. Janet’s impression of being mentally undressed was strong. Closer, the self-assured smile was even brighter.
“What?” demanded the man.
“Somewhere quieter,” Janet said.
The smile widened. “Sounds interesting.”
Janet felt herself sweating with the sort of discomfort she’d known talking to the arrogant crewman. “You interested in a business deal?”
An explosion of music kept the answer from her. Realizing she had not heard, Nicos repeated: “I’m interested in everything.”
“Business,” Janet repeated, in further insistence.
“There’s a quieter bar upstairs, in the hotel,” the man suggested. “We can get a return ticket for here.”
“I shan’t be coming back,” said Janet.
14
N icos led the way into the upstairs bar and to a table overlooking the now-darkened sea and announced: “I will take zivania .”
Janet order the brandy for him and another Perrier for herself, conscious of his changed attitude. There had been a swagger when he had left the downstairs club but here, without an audience, there was no pretense. She was glad.
As if in confirmation of her thoughts he said, seriously: “What is it, this business in Beirut?”
Janet talked intently, alert for his reaction. He sat with his hands around his glass but not drinking and not looking directly back at her, either, his eyes down to the table as if he were deep in thought. When she finished he did not speak immediately.
“Well!” she demanded. “Can you help?”
His eyes came up to her at last. “I don’t know,” he said, simply.
Janet frowned at the unexpected honesty. “You do have contacts in Beirut, don’t you?”
“Some,” he said. “I don’t know if they could help on this, though.”
“Will you try?”
Nicos shrugged and said: “Before it was just to look at a building: take a photograph. This is different”
“I accept that.”
“Dangerous.”
“How much?”
The smile flashed, briefly. “Just information, right? If he is OK? Whereabouts in Beirut he’s being held?”
“The whereabouts particularly.”
“Nothing,” declared the man.
“Nothing!”
“Payment on results,” he said, in another announcement. “I will try to find out where he is being held. See if I can get a photograph to prove it. If I do that, then I get?10,000. If I discover nothing, I get nothing.”
Janet smiled tentatively. “I did not expect that,” she admitted.
“It is fair?”
“Very fair.”
“So we agree?”
“Oh yes!” Janet said, urgently. “Very much we agree. When can you go?”
Nicos held up his hand, stopping her. “There is more to discuss,” he said. “I have to find someone to take me across. Make arrangements to get in.”
“Yes,” Janet said cautiously.
“There will be expense.”
Janet hesitated. “How much?”
The shrug came again. “I do not know how much they will ask. There is always the risk of losing the boat: of getting shot even.”
“You must have some idea.”
Nicos’s eyes were fixed on the table again. “I will need to make a deal on the spot: not be able to go back and forth to discuss it.”
“Of course.”
“How about this?” suggested the man. “I take?5,000. Trust me to be honest. I will tell you what the boat costs and what the bribes cost and what is left over comes off the?10,000 we’ve agreed. If I can’t find out anything, I give you back what’s left. Fair again?”
“Fair again,” Janet agreed.
“How long, to get the money?”
“Tomorrow.”
The man nodded. “Then tomorrow I start.”
“I am very grateful,” said Janet.
“I haven’t achieved anything yet.”
“For agreeing to try,” said Janet.
They arranged for him to come to the hotel at ten the following morning and Janet left. She tried to think objectively-he was right, he hadn’t achieved anything yet-but she found it difficult to control the euphoria. Everyone had sneered and laughed and dismissed her but she’d done it! She’d made a contact and he was going to go into Beirut and find something out about John. She just knew he would.
It was near midnight when she got back to the hotel and Janet sagged with tiredness. Despite which, she bathed, wanting to relax as much as remove the dirt of the day, but when she went to bed she still found it difficult to sleep, managing little more than to catnap throughout the night. She got up just after it was light, staring out over the gradually awakening city, impatient for the hours to pass until Nicos arrived.
She did not bother with breakfast and was down in the foyer, waiting for him, half an hour before the agreed meeting. He arrived promptly on time, subdued today in gray trousers and white shirt and once more without any swagger. He carried a briefcase, the sort that locked by coded numerals, adding to the businesslike impression.
They took a taxi to the bank and he waited while she sought out the assistant manager who had taken her deposit and arranged the withdrawal of the?5,000. Janet accepted the money in a thick manila envelope and handed it straight to Nicos, who put it in the briefcase and twirled the numbers.
“How long?” asked Janet, on the pavement outside the bank.
“I don’t know,” said Nicos. “You are going to remain at the Churchill?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll contact you there, as soon as there is something. Just wait. It might take time.”
“Be as quick as you can,” she urged.
“I’ll be as quick as it is safe to be,” he said.
Back at the hotel Janet realized, practically in surprise, that all she could now do was wait. She telephoned England to assure her father she was all right, holding back with difficulty the temptation to tell him about Nicos, saying merely that she thought she had made a useful contact and was hopeful of it leading to some sort of news about John. In the afternoon she sunbathed by the pool, managing to doze after her fitful night, and had just returned to her room when Partington called from the embassy, extending his delayed invitation for dinner the following night. Janet accepted, deciding she could always cancel if there were news from Nicos, and took care the following morning to tell both the reception desk clerk and the switchboard operator that she would be by the pool if anyone tried to get in touch with her. She became bored with sunbathing by lunchtime. She remained by the pool to eat but in the afternoon risked leaving the hotel briefly to walk to Laiki Yitonia to watch the lace makers at their open-air stalls and wander through the silk booths. After an hour she became worried that she might have missed contact from Nicos and hurried back to the Churchill. There were no messages.
Partington’s wife was named Anne. She was a constantly moving, flustered woman who reminded Janet of her own mother and the evening became a further reminder of how fervently her mother had welcomed visitors from outside the insular, claustrophobic embassy enclaves in which they had served abroad. The beef was proudly served (“all there is here is lamb, you know”) and Partington poured French wine. Anne Partington said she hoped Janet didn’t mind, but William had told her about the kidnap and wasn’t it awful but she was sure it would all be all right. When his wife was in the kitchen preparing the coffee the attache asked how much longer she intended staying.