Iron Orchid (Holly Barker 5)

“Yes?”

“There’s a room booked in the name of Frances Williams at the Lowell Hotel, on East Sixty-third Street, between Park and Madison. Go there and check in, telling them that your luggage was delayed by the airline and will be delivered later. When you’ve satisfied yourself that you’re clean of tails, call my cell from your room and give me the room number.”

“Got it,” she said.

Teddy followed her all the way to the hotel, then walked past it and around the block again, making sure he was not followed. Halfway around, his cell phone rang.

“Yep?”

“Six one six. All is well.”

He continued around the block, then entered the hotel, went straight to the elevator and rode to the eighth floor. He walked down two flights, and, after checking out the hallway, knocked on the door.

There was a pause, and he was inside. Irene was already naked under a terry robe. He was out of his clothes in a flash.

AN HOUR LATER, as they lay, half asleep, in each other’s arms, she spoke for the first time. “How about a nice, flashy Saudi prince with financial connections to Al Qaeda?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah,” he murmured.

“His name is Ali ben Saud, and he’s one of hundreds of Saudi princes,” she said. “What sets him apart is that he actually makes money, instead of just lying around and collecting whatever allowance the king allots him. He’s invested cleverly, too cleverly, we think. What caught our attention is that he invests more than his allowance, and we think the extra funds come from an Al Qaeda contact in Syria. There is constant activity in his accounts, money being wired here and there, some legit, some questionable.”

“How sure are you of his involvement with Al Qaeda?” Teddy asked.

“We’re sure, but we couldn’t prove it in a court of law.”

“Where is he?”

“He lives flashily, right here in New York. He’s an assistant secretary general at the U.N., and he has a big duplex apartment in the U.N. Plaza building.”

“I love that building,” Teddy said. “I remember once a character in a movie saying that if there is a god, he probably lives in that building.”

Irene laughed. “He has a penthouse apartment, and the building’s security is excellent, so it would probably be very difficult to get to him there.”

“What’s his work schedule, and how does he get to the office?”

“He leaves his apartment every morning at nine for work and walks to the main entrance of the U.N. building. Then he exits the U.N. building every afternoon at four, regular as clockwork, and walks home.”

“That’s very cooperative of him,” Teddy said. “He must drive his security people crazy.”

“He walks with an entourage of six or eight guards, who are heavily armed. Our people have observed this, but we’re not allowed to maintain any real surveillance on him, because he’s too well connected with Saudi officials in this country who have a lot of influence with the State Department. We haven’t even told the New York station of our interest in him, though that’s going to happen any day now.”

“Good,” Teddy said. “That means I’ll have to deal with only his personal security people and not worry about surveillance from anybody else. I’ll have to go down to U.N. Plaza and take a look at the area.”

“Not right now,” Irene said, pulling him toward her.

“Oh, no, indeed not,” Teddy said, kissing her.

FORTY-SEVEN

HOLLY WAS HOME at lunchtime to walk Daisy, when the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“It’s the old man,” Ham said.

“How you doin‘, Ham?”

“Not bad. Ginny and I thought we might come up to New York and do some Christmas shopping.”