“What’s that?” asked Scott anxiously.
“The Ambassador’s term of office comes to an end early next month. He may well be asked to stay in Paris, but the Chief Administrator is telling everyone that he’s going to be called back to Baghdad and promoted to Deputy Foreign Minister.”
Scott still didn’t offer an opinion.
“What’s the matter, Simon? Are you incapable of making a decision at this time in the morning?” Scott still said nothing. “You’re just as pathetic on your feet as you are in bed,” she teased.
Scott decided the time had come to tell her everything. He wasn’t going to wait another minute. He walked out of the kitchen, took her in his arms and stroked her hair. “Hannah, I need to—” he began, when the phone rang. He broke away to answer it.
He listened for a few moments before saying to Dexter Hutchins, “Yes, sure. I’ll call you back as soon as I’ve had time to think about it.” What was the man doing up in the middle of the night, wondered Scott as he replaced the receiver.
r /> “Another lover, lover?” Hannah asked with a smile.
“My publishers wanting to know when the manuscript will be finished. It’s already overdue.”
“And what will your answer be?”
“I’m currently distracted.”
“Only currently?” she said, pressing her finger on his nose.
“Well, perhaps permanently,” he admitted.
She kissed him gently on the cheek and whispered, “I must get back to the embassy, Simon. Don’t come down with me, it’s too risky.”
He held her in his arms and wanted to protest but settled for “When will I see you again?”
“Whenever the Ambassador’s wife feels in need of a swim,” Hannah said. She broke away. “But I’ll keep on reminding her how good it is for her figure, and that perhaps she ought to be taking even more exercise.” She laughed and left without another word.
Scott stood by the window, waiting for her to reappear. He hated the fact that he couldn’t just phone, write or make contact with her whenever he felt like it. He longed to send her flowers, letters, cards and notes to let her know how much he loved her.
Hannah ran out onto the sidewalk, a smile on her face. She looked up and blew Scott a kiss before she vanished around the corner.
Another man, who was cold and tired from hours of waiting, also watched her, not from a window in a warm room but from a doorway on the opposite side of the road.
The moment Scott disappeared from sight, the man stepped out of the shadows and followed the Ambassador’s second secretary back to the embassy compound.
Chapter Seventeen
“I don’t believe you,” she said.
“I fear that the truth of the matter is you don’t want to believe me,” said Kratz, who had flown from London that morning.
“But he can’t be working for any enemy of Israel.”
“If that’s the case, perhaps you can explain why he passed himself off as a Mossad agent?”
For the last two hours Hannah had tried to think of a logical reason why Simon would have deceived her, but had to admit that she had been unable to come up with a convincing answer.
“Have you told us everything you passed on to him?” Kratz demanded.
“Yes,” she said, suddenly feeling ashamed. “But have you checked with all the friendly agencies?”
“Of course we have,” said Kratz. “No one in Paris has ever heard of the man. Not the French, not the British and certainly not the CIA. Their Head of Station told me personally that they have never had anyone on their books called Simon Rosenthal.”
“So what will happen to me now?” asked Hannah.
“Do you wish to continue working for your country?”