The Assassin Read Online Free PDF Page B

the signal. Once for no, twice for yes. You’re a lucky man, Keller. I always told you Fuad Hamedin would bring you luck!’
    â€˜I’m not kissing your ass,’ Keller said. ‘You’re getting paid. And it takes two to say yes to any deal. You tell me what the money is and what the real target will be. Go and tell whoever is in that car behind that I want to know now, and I’ll give my answer the way he gave his. Once for no, and twice for yes.’
    The Lebanese got out; the Mercedes engine had started up. Keller watched through the driving mirror. He saw Fuad go to the driver, who talked through the glass. When Fuad came back, his eyes were rolling in genuine excitement.
    â€˜Fifty thousand dollars.’ He could hardly get the words out. ‘American dollars. And a passport in any name you like. But you can’t know any more for the moment. Take it or leave it, they say. Fifty thousand American dollars— Allah ya ish Allah!’ He wiped his face with a bright silk handkerchief. It was oily with sweat.
    â€˜Make it two passports,’ Keller said. He lit another cigarette. He too was beginning to sweat but he wouldn’t let the Lebanese see any sign of excitement. Fifty thousand dollars. His throat was dry and now his hands were shaking too. Fifty thousand. ‘Two passports,’ he repeated. ‘One for me and one for Souha. And ten thousand on account. For her. Go and tell them. Go on, you greasy son of a bitch! Do you want me to go round there and ask myself?’
    Fuad was gone, and suddenly Keller pulled the collar away from his neck where the sweat was trickling down. It was a fortune. He had killed so many men he had lost count for only a few sous a day. Fifty thousand dollars for one man. One king, one prince, one politician, one rival gangster in a billion-dollar empire like opium or cocaine. He had always thought of human life as cheap. He sat back in the car and laughed out loud at his own bitter joke. He had no idea it was so expensive.
    â€˜All right.’ Fuad got in and closed the driver’s door. ‘A passport for you with the rest of the money when the job is done. Ten thousand now and a passport for the girl.’
    â€˜All right,’ Keller said. ‘All right then. Give two blasts. The deal is on.’

2
    â€˜I wish you would tell me what it is.’ Keller had bought her a hundred dollars’ worth of dresses and shoes. He had shown her the passport; it had come by messenger, and it gave her Lebanese citizenship.
    â€˜Now,’ Keller explained, ‘now you can go anywhere in the world. You have a nationality—look! You’re a Lebanese, you’re not a refugee any more.’
    â€˜I don’t want to go anywhere,’ she said. ‘I’m happy here. I don’t want to be a Lebanese; I’m a Palestinian. I don’t want any of these things. What have you promised these people that they give you all this?’
    Keller came to her and, putting both hands on her shoulders, he shook her. Just a little, as if she were an obstinate child.
    â€˜That’s none of your business. I know what I am doing and you should trust me. I’ve told you, we’re going to have a new life. Instead of living like dogs, sniffing round the garbage for enough to eat, we’ll be rich. Very rich, you little idiot. Now will you be quiet, and go and put my clothes into that suitcase?’ The dark head was bent, hiding her face; he knew that she was crying.
    â€˜I am afraid,’ she said. ‘I don’t know why, but my heart is full of fear for you.’ She looked up at him then. ‘I am afraid for both of us. But I will do what you say. I will wait here till you come back. Now let me go, Bruno, and I will get everything ready for you.’
    He had lodged the ten thousand in the Banque du Liban, and arranged with them to pay her a weekly allowance. He hadn’t told her how much money she owned,