educated by a retinue of tutors. It all created in him intense feelings of deprivation, which, he told Gavin, might have been responsible for his life of overindulgence. He blamed his failings on the fact that he assumed he could never claim the throne. Now, for the first time, it seemed possible.
Sadun’s other sign of progress indicated to Gavin that he had succeeded in the assignment given him by Nicholas Kiskalesi: Sadun was now a man. He told Gavin he had proved it.
“X,” whispered Sadun. “She comes to my room every night—”
As Sadun continued to lose weight, he became even more interested in the outside world. Guests arrived almost daily for lunch and dinner, their long conversations interrupted only by Sadun’s shots. Their discussions were held in Arabic, so Gavin could not understand the words, but it wasn’t difficult for him — and for X — to guess at their meaning.
“He’s talking about claiming the throne,” she informed Nicky Kiskalesi on the telephone.
“Only talking?” Nicky asked. “Or is there more to it than just talk?”
“He’s seen military advisers,” said X. “They assure him that both Germany and the United States will send him weapons. It is in their interests to destroy Nasser’s power and evict the Soviets from Egypt. His political advisers assert that underground royalists can be mobilized. Apparently, the majority of the Egyptian people still favor a monarchy.”
“It’s interesting, isn’t it,” mused Nicky, “that the poorer a people are, the more they favor the trappings and indulgences of royalty? Tell me, X, does Sadun have a timetable?”
“Not yet.”
“Keep me informed.”
Nicky hung up the phone and speculated on various moves and counter-moves. Perhaps if he played everything just right, he could have an entire country at his disposal instead of just an oil-drilling operation. Sadun was making splendid progress but it was the doctor he was now worried about. In front of him was the dossier disclosing Gavin Jenkins’ penchant for defying authority.
15
“What’s in those shots of yours?” X asked Gavin.
“Various things,” he said. He wondered if Nicky Kiskalesi were behind X’s question.
“Such as?”
“A drug to increase his energy,” said Gavin. “Another to depress his appetite. It’s a crutch, but a temporary one. As soon as he’s down to his proper weight, he won’t need anything anymore.”
“You’re sure? He seems so dependent on your injections.”
“I’m sure because I’ve experimented on myself,” said Gavin. “I injected myself with various medications until I found what works best. I customize the treatment for every patient.”
“You seem very certain of yourself for a young doctor from — where do they call it in America? — hillbilly country.”
X was being deliberately insulting and Gavin didn’t like it.
“Have you been including every detail of Sadun’s private life in your daily reports to your employer?”
X looked shocked.
“How do you know?”
“Sadun,” Gavin said. “He told me—”
“Are you going to tell Nicky?”
“I don’t work for Nicky,” Gavin pointed out. “Sadun is my patient. Mr. Kiskalesi merely pays the bill—”
“He’d kill me if he found out,” said X.
“I know,” Gavin smiled. “So just behave yourself.”
Never would the former belly dancer have guessed that she would share Mohammed Abd-el Sadun’s bed.
The first time, X ascribed it to too much champagne. She had been almost celibate since Nicholas Kiskalesi had spirited her out of the Cinar nightclub. Occasionally she picked up a sailor or a waiter but she had too much of a past to risk getting emotionally involved. It was in her interest to keep her emotional loyalties in strict order of priority — and Nicholas Kiskalesi had first claim on her fidelity.
X thought only she and Sadun shared their secret and she was shocked to find out that someone else knew. Now her life was precariously
Sadun’s other sign of progress indicated to Gavin that he had succeeded in the assignment given him by Nicholas Kiskalesi: Sadun was now a man. He told Gavin he had proved it.
“X,” whispered Sadun. “She comes to my room every night—”
As Sadun continued to lose weight, he became even more interested in the outside world. Guests arrived almost daily for lunch and dinner, their long conversations interrupted only by Sadun’s shots. Their discussions were held in Arabic, so Gavin could not understand the words, but it wasn’t difficult for him — and for X — to guess at their meaning.
“He’s talking about claiming the throne,” she informed Nicky Kiskalesi on the telephone.
“Only talking?” Nicky asked. “Or is there more to it than just talk?”
“He’s seen military advisers,” said X. “They assure him that both Germany and the United States will send him weapons. It is in their interests to destroy Nasser’s power and evict the Soviets from Egypt. His political advisers assert that underground royalists can be mobilized. Apparently, the majority of the Egyptian people still favor a monarchy.”
“It’s interesting, isn’t it,” mused Nicky, “that the poorer a people are, the more they favor the trappings and indulgences of royalty? Tell me, X, does Sadun have a timetable?”
“Not yet.”
“Keep me informed.”
Nicky hung up the phone and speculated on various moves and counter-moves. Perhaps if he played everything just right, he could have an entire country at his disposal instead of just an oil-drilling operation. Sadun was making splendid progress but it was the doctor he was now worried about. In front of him was the dossier disclosing Gavin Jenkins’ penchant for defying authority.
15
“What’s in those shots of yours?” X asked Gavin.
“Various things,” he said. He wondered if Nicky Kiskalesi were behind X’s question.
“Such as?”
“A drug to increase his energy,” said Gavin. “Another to depress his appetite. It’s a crutch, but a temporary one. As soon as he’s down to his proper weight, he won’t need anything anymore.”
“You’re sure? He seems so dependent on your injections.”
“I’m sure because I’ve experimented on myself,” said Gavin. “I injected myself with various medications until I found what works best. I customize the treatment for every patient.”
“You seem very certain of yourself for a young doctor from — where do they call it in America? — hillbilly country.”
X was being deliberately insulting and Gavin didn’t like it.
“Have you been including every detail of Sadun’s private life in your daily reports to your employer?”
X looked shocked.
“How do you know?”
“Sadun,” Gavin said. “He told me—”
“Are you going to tell Nicky?”
“I don’t work for Nicky,” Gavin pointed out. “Sadun is my patient. Mr. Kiskalesi merely pays the bill—”
“He’d kill me if he found out,” said X.
“I know,” Gavin smiled. “So just behave yourself.”
Never would the former belly dancer have guessed that she would share Mohammed Abd-el Sadun’s bed.
The first time, X ascribed it to too much champagne. She had been almost celibate since Nicholas Kiskalesi had spirited her out of the Cinar nightclub. Occasionally she picked up a sailor or a waiter but she had too much of a past to risk getting emotionally involved. It was in her interest to keep her emotional loyalties in strict order of priority — and Nicholas Kiskalesi had first claim on her fidelity.
X thought only she and Sadun shared their secret and she was shocked to find out that someone else knew. Now her life was precariously
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