White Moon Black Sea (28 page)

By that time the papers were full of gossip and speculation about Rashid and Tana Dabra. Adam had persisted with questions about the couple’s relationship. Once he had the answers, and after Rashid had admitted that the exotic and clever Tana Dabra was stringing him along without giving him any commitments about the future, he was satisfied that his white knight and friend, Tana Dabra Ras Magdala Makoum, could take care of herself. She would come to no harm in the hands of Rashid. He had met his match at last. The signs were there. Rashid was truly in love, Adam noted. It had also been Adam and not Rashid who gave Mirella the assurance she was seeking that, whatever happened between Rashid and Tana Dabra, hers and Rashid’s relationship would never change. His words had been, “I guess it takes one well-worn reprobate who has succumbed to marriage to spot another who is about to. I am sure that Rashid would be a great deal more relaxed about it if he was not so busy assuring Tana Dabra that their marriage will never change his other attachments and relationships. Surely Tana Dabra has taken this in her shapely stride.”

He had, of course — sensing Mirella’s anxiety that their
ménage à trois
might suffer a drastic change — said it to dispel Mirella’s nagging anxiety that Rashid would leave her. The pain and fear of losing Rashid lifted from her heart at once. They had been lying in bed ready for sleep. Mirella reached out and squeezed his hand, and he slowly pulled her close into his arms. “You don’t miss much, Adam,” she whispered, recognizing the same subtlety with which he always made the point but never referred directly to the subject of their unusual three-way relationship. She was happy he could not see the expression of relief on her face in the darkness of their bedroom.

“I keep half an eye open.”

“And I love you as I could never love any other man.”

“I’ll open both eyes to that.”

And then they had made love, had sex for the first time since the birth of the baby. They slipped into their own
erotic world, renewing every aspect of their raunchy intercourse, and at dawn fell asleep, happy in themselves and the life they had made.

The third time Mirella and Rashid met after the birth of Kadin had been when Adam had gone off on business for a few days. During that time Rashid had been on a cruise with Tana Dabra off the coast of Turkey. He had been making his usual daily call to Mirella during this time from the yacht. Then suddenly one day there had been a second call. He wanted her, he had waited long enough. Was it too early after the birth of the baby? He could stay with her for twenty-four hours, no more. He wanted her, he needed her, he had to have her. They had met in the love pavilion. She had thought they would talk then, because there was a great deal to talk about. But as soon as they saw each other, words were superfluous. The sexual chemistry frothed between them. They divided their time between the pavilion and the House of Oda-Lala, steeped in their own passionate lust and nothing more. Mirella knew Rashid had abandoned Tana Dabra to two bodyguards and the other guests on the yacht to reestablish what he and Mirella meant to each other, and to prove to her that nothing need change for them. She was abundantly joyful.

As for Rashid, being with Mirella and Humayun at Oda-Lala’s, the house where he sexually enslaved all his women, tried to enslave Mirella, and in his house, the pavilion, in his beloved Istanbul, only whetted his appetite to seal his relationship with Tana Dabra, to bring her home. He would make her a part of his household, his world, the place where he was close to his ancestors, and where he hoped they would create a new dynasty to perpetuate the line of the Lala Mustaphas. It is good thus, he had thought then, hardly crediting it. What had these women, Mirella and Tana Dabra in common that they should have such power to make him want to be one with them throughout their lives.

Adam watched his wife walking down the last few stairs and toward them. The men rose. Joshua kissed Mirella in
greeting while Adam introduced her to Wendell Beezely, a man very high up in Adam’s company, the Corey Trust.

“I’m sorry about this, Mirella,” Adam apologized. “What with the clan arriving to say good-bye, my archaeologist friends’ comings and goings before we leave for this dig, and now this little emergency, I’m afraid the place is a bit like a three-ring circus.”

She began to laugh as she took a seat with the men. “It’s not a problem,” she said, “it’s exciting. All the time exciting to live in this house. You attend to what you have to. I’ll see — or rather Moses and I will see — that everyone is comfortable. What’s happening, by the way?”

The three men looked at one another, and Mirella could sense the excitement of their quick, intelligent minds. They were able to cut through preliminaries to the heart of what concerned them.

It was Adam who spoke. “Joshua is having a frustrating time over a very important bill he is trying to get passed in the U.S. Senate. Trouble with several state representatives. He wanted to catch me before I drop out of the present for a while and go back in time in that Hittite mound we’re excavating.”

“I welcome Dad’s and Wendell’s suggestions. They’ll be useful. They might give me a point or two that would help me get the bill passed when I go in front of the Senate committee in a few day’s time. It’s damned important for the Corey Trust. And a hell of a lot of other conglomerates too.”

“And I, Mrs. Corey, have been working with Joshua, setting up an enormous deal involving an oil exchange with an Arab country. Josh and I felt we were mishandling it somehow, because it’s not moving fast enough. We got a hunch we should push for immediate completion. We reckon the deal is getting sloppy. And we’re not going to lose that deal. So we have flown in to see Adam and hear what he thinks. Sorry about the intrusion.”

“Not at all, Mr. Beezely. I’m fascinated. May I sit in on this for a while, Adam?”

“Of course,” he answered, delighted by her interest.
“Okay, how do we stand at present?” he asked, turning his attention back to the men and the problem at hand.

“We sent a telex two days ago. An ultimatum that the deal must be closed on or before a certain date. Otherwise we drop the negotiations. That date was today. They’re going to ask for another extension. We want to know what you think, Adam,” asked Wendell Beezely.

Adam had been aware of the impending deal for some time. He wanted a few more details. Within ten minutes the three men were hyped up over the deal. They were determined now to solve the problem to their advantage as soon as possible. Joshua rang through to his father’s secretary and two assistants in the study. He had them bring to the great hall the latest data on the project. Also their private telephone directories, on Adam’s instructions.

Adam said to Joshua, “Okay, the form is we sell at once to the highest bidder. Only we select the buyers. We have been good guys long enough, keeping the deal warm for just one buyer.

“Wendell, I’ll handle the call to China. You take the Saudis. You, Josh, get the U.S. Agricultural Department on the line. A guy called Pope.

“Wendell, Joshua, it’s your deal. We’ll play the other bidders to get what you want. Remember we lay the pressure on for that and only that. Whatever happens, we cannot lose. Now, how do you want to play it with your man, guys?”

Joshua took over, “Simple, Dad. With all three buyers we deal directly with the man at the top. The guy who makes the real decisions. Unless the Saudis come through within the hour, we sell to the highest bidder. If they lose, they’ll have to wait for another commodity oil package to be put together.”

“That sounds fine to me.”

“And me,” asserted Wendell.

Mirella remained silent but intrigued. She just hoped the family would not descend upon the great hall and force the men to retreat into Adam’s study. Not for a while at least.

The three men picked up telephones. The dealing started. Adam spoke to his man in China. An offer resulted
at once. Joshua held up on a piece of paper for the others to see the offer made by the State Department man. Wendell, dealing directly with an Arab prince, shocked him into action by pushing for a decision within the hour. He then passed him over to Adam. Adam knew the prince from way back.

“Look, old friend, you people have been sitting on this deal far too long. We close in forty minutes, with or without you. Wendell was right when he told you he holds back nothing. Your men should have moved faster. Now you’re facing competition. You bid against China and the U.S. We take the best offer. I’m passing you back to Wendell. This is his deal. And, old friend, let me just say that, if I were in your place, heads would roll for what this delay is going to cost you. Nice to have spoken with you. I’ll see you in a few weeks’ time anyway, in Paris.”

The bids were in. What should have been a simple sale was now a scramble. Adam had turned it in minutes into a delicate geopolitical game. The three were hooked, and the Corey Trust was going to do better than expected as a result. They now had a choice to sell for gold, silver, or oil.

Ten minutes before the hour was up, Mirella had to leave them. The clan had arrived by boat and were descending on the garden and the pavilion. She could not bear them to interrupt Adam in the great hall.

The separate strands of her life now kept intertwining, maybe too much. But that was how things seemed to be most of the time. Everything had changed from the moment she had learned about her legacy. Had it really been only two years before?

She took Kadin from Muhsine, who had carried her from the
yali
, where the baby had a nursery as well as in the Peramabahçe Palace. But she did not have the child for long because Rashid left the card game to play with the pretty, good-natured baby. As soon as Mirella could settled everyone in the garden, she excused herself for a few minutes. She said she’d be back right away, then rushed into the house, eager to know what had happened.

Champagne glass in hand, Adam was giving a toast. The
men drained their glasses. All were laughing and talking at once, congratulating one another on the amazing deal that had been made. It was a businessman’s dream, a deal headed for the record books once it was out. A vast fortune had been made in less than an hour.

Adam suggested that Joshua and Wendell get in touch with their assistants. And with their stockbrokers. At once, before the news hit the market. They might as well put some icing on the cake. The three issued instructions, what to buy and what not to sell. Then Adam turned the company’s portfolio over to Joshua and Wendell and a squadron of assistants, secretaries, and public relations men. Adam, of course, would not be available for comment when the news broke.

Mirella stood silently watching them. Adam saw her first, went to her with the bottle and a glass, and poured her champagne.

“Join the toast. We have just had a terrific time.”

“What happened?” she asked, avid for the details. She savored the sort of swift, knifelike jabs the men had needed to make their deal. She wanted to remember ruthlessness, such as Adam surprised her with in winning his deal. She would have a use for it in handling the Oujie legacy affairs.

“To put it simply, Wendell and Joshua have been working for months on a commodities package. Coffee, rice, and wheat from all our own holdings. They had an instinct to move fast. For all sorts of financial and political reasons they were right. The Corey Trust did not want paper money for this particular deal. We were looking for a trade. We’d have settled for oil, gold, or silver. Our preference was for oil, but the Saudis were playing a waiting game with us. They didn’t want to give up the deal, or the oil either. They’re greedy, hating to pay up until the last minute. There are times you can make millions that way. But that’s not the way we do business at the Corey Trust. They gave their word. They should have paid up. Instead, they kept asking for extended completion dates. They were playing their own waiting game with rising prices. Their manipulations have cost them a bomb.
In round figures, nine hundred million dollars more in oil than originally negotiated for.”

“But even that’s not the best part,” continued Joshua, reliving his excitement. “In order to satisfy the losers, Wendell has sold next year’s output for the market value at that time. It increases proportionately with inflation. On top of that, there’s a thirty percent fee for handling, to the Chinese. Payment half now, half on delivery, in gold bullion. That just about pushes the Corey Trust into number two, possibly even number one place for the wealthiest conglomerate trading in the world.”

Mirella sat down at the table for the moment, dazed by what she had just heard. Adam sat down next to her, all smiles.

“It’s the deal, that’s the excitement, making the kill. There is nothing like the big kill, the big win. But the thrill lasts only such a short time. It’s good to remember that part of wheeling-dealing — fast-lane, fast-changing finance — is in a world all its own, where men like us are powerful enough to manipulate the world’s currencies and influence the politics of entire nations. Fast-lane traffic like that can just as easily leave you bruised. I guess the secret is never to allow it to leave you bloodied or bowed. A good rule of thumb for your own protection is: Stay always true to yourself, no matter what.

“Okay, fellas, shop’s closed. Tea, family, and friends. And then I’m going digging. I wish you were coming with us, Mirella. You were invited, remember, and it’s going to be a thrilling excavation. I have good feelings about it. There is an area a few miles from the mound that may throw up some of those distinctive monumental rock sculptures. And to think they are on your land, land that has been the Oujies’ as long as anyone can remember. Think again about joining us. You’d never be bored. My guess would be that the Anatolian plateau holds many of your ancestors’ secrets. You can travel and discover while I dig.” Adam said this as he placed his arm around her. They walked away from Joshua and Wendell, who were about to retreat to Adam’s library to make more calls to New York about their deal.

“I know. It’s just that the baby is too young; I don’t want to leave her for three weeks, not now. She won’t stay a baby for long. And, that aside, with all Kadin’s other surrogate mothers, Aysha, Guiliana, and even Marlo to love her, Muhsine and Moses to spoil her, she might forget me. They love Kadin so much. We are all very attached to one another’s children. I sometimes can hardly believe this extended family of ours works so well.”