‘Adnan was a very rich, powerful man who loved the company of women,’ said Sharif, returning to his seat. ‘When he was staying in London, where he would often entertain other important, rich men, they would want fun after they had concluded business. Donna Jones was one of a dozen girls who provided entertainment, not only to Adnan’s friends but to Adnan himself.’
‘Entertainment? You mean sex,’ said Molly matter of factly.
‘Indeed,’ replied Kahlid with a cautious smile. ‘Mostly with just one girl, sometimes two or three girls at one time. Donna was one of the more shy girls, but she was very popular, very charming and very adventurous.’
‘And was there payment involved?’
Kahlid let out a low, gravelly laugh. ‘You are clearly uninitiated in the ways of this world.’
‘Was there payment involved?’ repeated Molly.
He nodded. ‘Payment kept things simple.’
If knowledge is power, then Molly felt its electric charge rush around her body. For years she had been made to feel inadequate by Donna’s marriage and her charmed new life. But that choking knot of envy was now easing, melting away as Molly realized that Donna’s destiny was now in her hands.
‘How did you meet Donna?’ asked Molly, trying not to show her excitement. ‘Through Denise Duncan?’
Sharif nodded. ‘Denise was the sometime lover of A
dnan, yes, and she introduced Donna to our circle. The first time I met Donna was at a party we threw in Mayfair. There were many, many important men there and Donna was picked out by one of the highest spenders. That first time, I don’t think Donna expected to be paid for her, ahem, companionship,’ he smiled. ‘But I think she was pleasantly surprised when she was.’
‘The first time? So Donna entertained more than once?’ ventured Molly.
‘Of course,’ replied Sharif. ‘She became one of Mr Hashemi’s favourite girls. Sometimes she was his travel companion. You know, she would stay with him as he spent a week in St Tropez or Hong Kong perhaps. That would be a fifty-thousand-dollar date,’ he laughed. ‘I assume my employer found it value for money. Anyway, over the course of around two years Donna would have received –’ he steepled his fingers in front of his lips as he did the mental calculation ‘– in the region of two hundred thousand pounds, and that was just from Mr Hashemi – there were many others. Mr Hashemi also helped pay her bills and bought her gifts like handbags. I remember she liked Chanel.’
‘How do you know?’
Sharif laughed again. ‘I know, Miss Sinclair, because I arranged for the handbags to be bought. And I gave her money.’
Molly could hardly believe her ears. She had expected a few indiscretions, but nothing on this scale.
‘There were other men apart from Adnan, you say?’
Sharif nodded. ‘Yes, there were other clients I was aware of. Men of similar status and wealth as Adnan. Girls were always introduced by word of mouth, a very discreet process. Donna had a very good reputation.’
Molly put her hands together on her lap and leant forward. ‘Would you be prepared to sign an affidavit swearing to this?’
‘Is that really necessary?’ Kahlid asked, surprised. ‘Adnan had nothing to hide – his lifestyle was well documented. But some of the girls we used to use … Some are high profile now, respectable. They would prefer to keep this quiet.’
Molly wondered who else was paid by Adnan Hashemi for sex? She’d heard many rumours that certain actresses, models and society wives had been escorts in their past.
‘I assumed, of course, that a man of your standing would continue to be loyal to Adnan,’ she smiled, reaching into her handbag and bringing out another handful of twenty-pound notes. ‘But would I also be correct in saying that, now he has passed away, your loyalties may have shifted slightly – to yourself, perhaps?’
‘Very true,’ shrugged Sharif, his eyes glistening once more.
‘Well, I suppose we should talk further about the level of my donation to your chosen charity,’ said Molly, beginning to count the notes out slowly.
‘Oh, I think you’ll find me a reasonable man,’ said Sharif. ‘Very reasonable indeed.’
‘So? What have you discovered?’ asked Alex Delemere briskly. Molly and Alex were sitting in a corner booth in a fish restaurant in Pimlico. Usually he would put his hand over hers as they dined, but today Alex had a steely look reserved for the boardroom not the bedroom. This was business not pleasure.
‘Everything I suspected is true,’ said Molly, taking a sip of mineral water. ‘Donna was a high-class call-girl, commanding five thousand pounds a night. Her clients were mainly Arabs, including the Saudi arms dealer Adnan Hashemi.’
Lord Delemere looked at Molly for a long moment, absorbing this information with an impassive face. ‘No wonder it’s not come out before,’ he said finally. ‘I doubt she runs into any arms dealers among Daniel’s group of friends.’
‘She’s been smart,’ said Molly matter of factly. She idly wondered what Donna had done right. After all, her friend Denise, the one-time madam and longtime lover of Hashemi, was now relegated to being the wife of a Surrey businessman. Donna, the younger, more naïve friend meanwhile makes a fortune, then marries into aristocracy. She must have had a few tricks up her sleeve, thought Molly.
‘It’s disgusting,’ said Alex, ‘I must tell Daniel immediately.’