The Haj - Leon Uris [223]
‘My hands are cuffed!’
‘That is part of the game. Trust me.’
He tried to wiggle but to no avail, for his feet were also bound. ‘I do not like this! Turn me loose!’
‘But you will ruin everything. The players are here now. There are three altogether. You are one and I am one. Surprised?’
Kabir panted and broke into an instant sweat as sound and light continued to blare at him. He felt a hand on his naked back. ‘And I am the other,’ a voice said.
Kabir twisted his thick neck in order to see, but he was too obese to turn himself around.
‘Guess,’ the voice said.
‘I don’t like this business!’ he cried.
‘But, darling, we went to so much trouble,’ Ursula soothed.
He was rolled over onto his back. A man stood over him with a devil’s-head mask from the costume room. He removed it slowly. The Effendi’s eyes bulged. His fat body glistened with wet fear perspiration.
‘Sultan! Sultan!’ he screamed.
‘Ah, but he cannot hear you, my darling,’ Ursula said. ‘He is quite dead and awaits in your speedboat for you to join him.’ She turned the music up several notches. Ibrahim straddled him and his dagger came from its sheath with a zing.
‘Talk! Let’s talk,’ Kabir begged.
‘Yes, please do speak,’ Ibrahim said.
‘Money. All the gold you can swim in. Millions! Millions!’
Ibrahim sat on the edge of the couch and placed the point of the dagger against the jugular vein and pressed it slightly. ‘How many millions do you have in mind?’ Ibrahim asked.
‘Millions, millions. Five, ten ... more
‘But if I take your money it would lead the police to me.’
‘No, no, no. I get you money. Cash. I call and have it brought here right now.’
‘Do you hear that, Ursula? He wants to give me money.’
‘He is a liar. He has code words with his banker.’
‘I do not lie! I do not make tricks! I am honest!’
Ibrahim backhanded him hard over the face, then grabbed him by the short ringlets of hair on the back of his neck and jerked his face up and looked into his terrorized eyes. Kabir wept and babbled incoherently. A smattering of a smile crossed the Haj’s lips. He was sorely tempted to prolong the Effendi’s agony. What to do? Beat him with hoses and whips? Ibrahim felt himself tremble with a sudden rush of perverse sensations. The music thundered and the lights spat out wild flashes. Oh Allah I am enjoying this, Ibrahim thought.
He signaled for her to turn down the sound. ‘Good. Now we will be able to hear his very last heartbeats.’ An awesome silence fell. No noise but the exaggerated breathing of the three and Kabir’s interspersed whimpers.
‘When I lived among the Bedouin I watched my uncle, the great Walid Azziz, take revenge on a boy who had fucked one of his favorite daughters. If this is done properly, he will drown by choking on his own blood without any mess and we should actually hear the air leave his body.’
‘Partner ... you are full partner in everything ... take it all ... I want nothing ... nothing ... millions ...’
The point of the dagger slid down Kabir’s Adam’s apple to a place at the base of his neck where the collarbones joined and the windpipe bulged ever so slightly. Ibrahim jabbed the point into Kabir’s throat, moving in a downward motion.
‘I confess to everything ... mercy ...’
‘But each time you open your mouth the blade goes in a little deeper, like this.’
A circle of blood oozed out. Ibrahim held the knife in this position for several moments, luxuriating in Kabir’s agony. Ursula came into view and spat on him. The blade probed a fraction deeper. ...
‘You are enjoying this too much, Ibrahim.’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘I don’t want to be a beast like him. Finish him.’
‘Soon ... soon ...’
A light hissing sound was heard as air leaped toward his punctured throat, then mixed with the growing pool of blood and the hiss turned to a gurgle. Ibrahim pressed the blade in just so and held it motionless again. Now the blood came out in spurts.
‘You are starting to make a mess,’ she said. ‘Finish it.’
‘Just a little longer. See, the life is beginning to leave him.’ Kabir tried to speak but blood gorged out of his mouth.