The Pirate by Harold Robbins

laden with food—roast beef, baked hams, turkeys and a giant loup caught fresh that day in the Mediterranean. The centerpiece was a huge fish carved of ice on the top of which was set a crystal bowl holding five kilos of Malossol grosgrain beluga caviar.
    Many of the tables and banquettes were already occupied by hungry guests when Carriage saw Baydr excuse himself and cross to the salon doors. He turned and looked back at Carriage, then nodded in the direction of Yasfir, who was still waiting in line for the buffet. Baydr turned and entered the salon without looking back.
    Carriage crossed to the Lebanese. “Mr. Al Fay waits at your convenience.”
    Yasfir looked at the buffet table, then at Carriage. The little man’s stomach had begun to rumble at the sight of food. Reluctantly, he began to put down the empty plate he had been holding.
    Dick took the plate from his hand. “I will arrange for a steward to bring you dinner.”
    “Thank you,” Ali said.
    Dick gave the plate to a steward and instructed him to bring it to Mr. Yasfir in the study, then turned back. “If you will follow me.”
    Yasfir followed him through the salon into the corridor which led to the staterooms. Midship, he paused at a closed mahogany door and knocked.
    Baydr’s voice came from inside. “Enter.”
    Carriage opened the door and stepped aside to allow Yasfir to precede him into the study. He did not enter. “Will there be anything further, sir?” he asked.
    “Turn your beeper on,” Baydr said. “I may want you later.”
    “Yes, sir,” Carriage answered. A steward arrived with Yasfir’s dinner plate. “Place it inside,” he directed. When the steward came out he closed the door. He heard it lock as he went back down the corridor.
    “I apologize for the inconvenience,” Baydr said.
    The Lebanese was already seated and eating. “It is no problem,” he said, between mouthfuls of caviar. A black driblet escaped from the corner of his mouth and he patted it deliberately with his napkin.
    Baydr walked over to the small desk and took out a folder from the center drawer. He placed it on the table next to Yasfir’s plate. “In accordance with my discussions with your principals,” he said, “I have prepared a portfolio of investments, comprising blue chip stocks and real estate, which we conservatively estimate should throw off a return of twelve percent annually over a ten-year period. This includes a growth rate of six percent and cash dividends in the same amount. It means that at the end of the ten-year period we will have received a cash return of better than forty percent, or ten million pounds sterling, while our principle will double in value.”
    “That’s very good,” Yasfir said, his mouth working on a piece of chicken.
    “All I need to put the plan in operation is approval from your principals,” Baydr said.
    Yasfir made no move to look at the folder. He put the chicken bone back on the plate and smacked his lips politely to show how much he had enjoyed the food. “May I wash my hands?” he asked.
    Baydr nodded. He took the Lebanese to the small lavatory just off the study. When the little man returned, Baydr was sitting behind his desk. The Lebanese left the folder on the table next to his empty plate and took a chair opposite the desk. Baydr waited politely for him to speak.
    “Man proposes, God disposes,” Yasfir said.
    Baydr was silent.
    “Circumstances necessitate a change in our plans,” Yasfir said. “I am afraid we will not be able to go forward with the investment plan.”
    Baydr’s face was impassive. He did not speak.
    “Other commitments had to be made for the funds,” the Lebanese said.
    “I understand,” Baydr said quietly. “I will arrange to have the ten million pounds returned to you immediately.”
    “That will not be necessary,” Yasfir said quickly. “We see no reason why you cannot handle this affair for us. At your usual rates of commission, of course.”
    Baydr nodded