The Empress Holds The Key Jack Rogan Mysteries Book 2 Gabriel Farago

have the means to pay in kind – and rather handsomely too, I might add – just like the
Khmer Rouge.’ Farim was, Sir Eric thought, clearly well informed about the family’s
past dealings and it appeared the latest proposal was similar.
‘How?’
Farim sensed Newman’s interest and took his time. ‘With antiquities,’ he said at last.
The expression on Newman’s face told him he had chosen the correct approach.
Encouraged, he pressed on. ‘As you know, the ancient sands of Egypt still hold many
treasures and my principals have – shall we say – ready access to their heritage.’
‘Are you suggesting that we provide you with arms in return for antiquities?’
‘Precisely.’
‘Where’s the profit?’
‘I admire your candour, Sir Eric,’ Farim said, stroking his beard. ‘We propose to sell
the antiquities to you for a quarter of their market value. My agents tell me you are very
well connected in the art world and would have little difficulty finding willing buyers.
Needless to say, how, and for how much you sell the items, is of course entirely a matter
for you.’ Farim made an expansive gesture with his right hand. ‘And besides, I
understand you are quite a connoisseur yourself,’ he added cunningly, ‘who likes to keep
some of the best pieces for his own collection.’
‘What about the arms? How do you suggest we agree on price there?’
‘We will pay market price. That shouldn’t be too difficult to establish,’ Farim replied
without hesitation. ‘I understand there is some sort of black market price list for such
things.’ Farim had done his homework.
The proposal was both ingenious and simple. It had its risks, but that was to be
expected. No risk, no profit; Newman understood that. A few years earlier he would have
embraced the deal without hesitation, but times had changed.
‘I have to disappoint you, Mr Farim, you have knocked on the wrong door I am afraid.
Our bank is not in a position to assist you,’ Newman said sternly.
Horst began to fidget in his chair. ‘But shouldn’t we at least ...’ he interjected. Newman
silenced his son by raising his hand without looking at him and stood up. The meeting
was over.
‘As you wish,’ Farim said, bowing politely towards his host. It was the reply he had