Page 25 of An Eye for an Eye

‘My name is Hani Khalil. We met at a government reception in Dublin a couple of years ago, but you may not remember me.’

Ross could only admire how Khalil could lie so effortlessly and with such conviction. He suspected he was one of those people who didn’t even know when he was lying. Something Ross intended to take advantage of.

‘How nice to see you again, Mr Khalil,’ said Ross, gesturing him to a seat on the other side of the table. ‘Won’t you join me for breakfast?’

‘Thank you,’ said Khalil, sitting down opposite him, ‘but I can’t stay long as I have a meeting with the Minister at ten.’

‘The Minister?’

‘Prince Sharif, the Minister of Petroleum and Mineral Resources,’ said Khalil, without missing a beat.

‘How fortuitous,’ said Ross, ‘as I was rather hoping to meet the Minister myself before I return to Dublin on Monday. But I fear he may consider Ireland fairly low down on his list of priorities.’

‘If you were able to tell me the reason you need to see him,’ said Khalil, ‘I might be able to assist.’

‘My government have instructed me to try and open negotiations with the Saudi authorities with a view to signing a long-term oil contract.’

‘It would help if I knew the details.’

Ross hesitated for a moment, hoping to leave the impression of being cautious about breaking a confidence with a stranger.

‘You can rely on my discretion,’ said Khalil, who slid his card across the table.

Ross studied it.

‘My government would like to purchase fifty thousand barrels of crude a week at spot price for the next five years.’ Although he delivered the Foreign Office’s exact words with confidence, he only wished he knew what he was talking about.

‘I feel sure that can be arranged,’ said Khalil, ‘but of course, one would have to add a small percentage for services rendered, to ensure the contract lands on the Minister’s desk.’

‘How small?’ demanded Ross, hoping he sounded hard-nosed.

‘Ten per cent on top of the agreed price, which is no more than the going rate,’ something else the FCO accepted without question.

‘I’ll have to call the Taoiseach and get his clearance,’ said Ross, ‘and then perhaps we could meet later?’

‘Why don’t you join me for dinner at the Fairmont this evening?’ suggested Khalil. ‘I can assure you they have the best chef in town.’

Ross nodded. ‘Seven o’clock?’

‘Seven o’clock it is, Declan,’ said his uninvited guest as he rose from the table. ‘I look forward to seeing you then.’

Ross called for the bill as he watched Khalil leave the dining room. He’d forgotten just how easy it was to con acon man. He signed the bill using his new name for the first time.

Ross strolled across to the concierge desk. ‘Thank you, Jim. Hook, line and sinker,’ was all he said before making his way across to the bank of elevators on the far side of the lobby, well aware that the embassy would be informed of his progress within minutes.

Once back in his suite, Ross made two phone calls. The first to Commander Hawksby at home – he was already up. The second to Mr Trevelyan on his mobile, who didn’t sound wide awake. Both seemed satisfied with his progress so far, although Trevelyan reminded him, ‘Your cover will be blown once the Minister returns to Dublin at twelve noon on Monday your time, so make sure you and Cinderella are both on your way back to London before then, with or without her slippers.’

•••

Ross arrived at the Fairmont a few minutes late, assuming that Khalil wouldn’t be on time. He was wrong. Mr Ten Per Cent was already sitting in the lounge looking like an overfed cat waiting for his next helping of cream.

‘Good evening,’ said Ross as he joined him, taking a seat in one of the gold chairs that were scattered around the room. ‘The Taoiseach has given me the go-ahead in principle, but asked me to call him after I’ve seen the Minister.’

‘I’ve already seen Prince Sharif,’ said Khalil, ‘and he’ll be free to see you at eleven o’clock on Monday morning. Why don’t I join you for breakfast on Monday and then I can take you to his office?’

The way you took Simon Hartley to the Minister’s office,thought Ross, while Declan O’Reilly said, ‘How did he react to my proposal?’

‘As long as you accept that the cost per barrel will always be based on the daily spot price in theWall Street Journalthat morning, plus ten per cent, he can’t see any problems,’ said Khalil, as a glass of sparkling water was placed by Ross’s side.