The Pirate by Harold Robbins Read Free Book Online

said.
    “Yes, dear?”
    “Are you all right?”
    “I’m just fine,” he said.
    “I worry all the time. It seems to me that you’re always flying, that you’re never in one place long enough to get proper rest.”
    “I’ve learned to sleep on the plane,” he lied. “I’m just fine.” He reached for a cigarette with his free hand and lit it. “At any rate we’ll be here until Wednesday. I’ll be able to catch up by then.”
    “I’m glad,” she said. “Will you come home soon?”
    “As soon as I can,” he said.
    “I love you, Richard.”
    “I love you,” he said. “And give the kids a big kiss for me.”
    “I will,” she said. “Goodbye.”
    “Goodbye, darling.” He put down the phone and took a long drag at his cigarette. He looked around the hotel room. It seemed strangely empty and sterile. Hotel rooms everywhere in the world were alike. They were designed so that you could not feel you belonged.
    He wished he were more like Baydr. Baydr seemed to belong anywhere he put himself down. Strange rooms and strange places seemed to have no effect on him. Of course, he had his own homes or apartments in most of the major cities. New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Paris, London, Geneva, Beirut, Teheran. But even when he did stay in a hotel he had a way of changing the room to fit his own style.
    Perhaps it was because he had spent all of his life in foreign lands. When he was a boy his father had sent him to school in England, then to college in the States, first Harvard Business School, then Stanford. In a curious manner, his life had been planned for him even before his birth. A first cousin to the reigning Emir and the only male descendant of his family, it was only natural that they would entrust him with their business affairs. With the development of the oil leases, the money had begun to flow into their coffers. And the family’s investments were turned over to Baydr because they could not bring themselves to trust the Westerners. In addition to the basic differences in philosophy and religion, there had been too long a history of colonial oppression. Rich to begin with, Baydr became even richer. Just on commissions alone his income began to run in excess of five million dollars a year and he controlled an international investment fund of over five hundred million dollars. And perhaps the most curious part of it all was that he conducted his business without a centralized organization. In each country there was a small group of employees reporting directly to him. In the end he made all the decisions. He was the only one who knew where it was all going. Now after two years, Dick was beginning to get a feel of the scope of the operation but still he found each day would bring some new development that would take him by surprise.
    The first time that he realized that Baydr might be involved in Al-Ikhwah was when he had seen the cable signed by Abu Saad, the group’s financial representative. He had always thought that Baydr, with his basic conservatism, frowned upon the Fedayeen’s course of action, that he had thought it more harmful than helpful to the Arab cause. Yet, he appeared to be doing business with them. Carriage was bright enough to know that there had to be a reason. Something was happening of which only Baydr was aware. He wondered what it could be. But there was no way he could guess. In time, he would find out. When Baydr was ready to disclose it.
    Carriage looked down at his wristwatch. It was almost ten o’clock. Time to get dressed and go to the yacht. Baydr liked him to be around when there was business being done.
    ***
    Baydr stopped at the connecting door between their staterooms. He stood for a moment in thought, then walked back to his dressing table and picked up the velvet-covered jewel case. His slippers were noiseless in the deep pile of the rug. The only sound was the rustle of his polished cotton jellaba as he crossed into her room.
    The room was in total