tea. And we have to drink it, or they will be offended.”
When Kemal returned a short while later Mustafa left the showroom and Kemal spoke swiftly in Turkish, after excusing himself to Justine.
Once he had finished, Iffet made a moue. “Some good news; Kemal’s father did know your grandmother. He told Kemal that an Englishwoman called Gabri did buy carpets from him. The bad news is that he hasn’t seen her for some years. I am so sorry.”
“It’s okay. And at least we know Gran did spend time in Istanbul. Gabri is her nickname, by the way.”
Ten
The man cut quite a swathe as he walked through the lobby of the Çiragan Palace Kempinski hotel, was well aware of the glances cast his way. He was used to it, therefore paid no attention.
His name was Michael Dalton, and he was tall, lithe, and in excellent physical condition at the age of thirty-nine. Because of his arresting dark good looks and last name, the movie buffs who met him thought he might be the brother of the British actor Timothy Dalton. But he was not, nor was he in the business of treading the boards or making movies.
Michael Dalton was in a very different kind of game, and it was one which was close to his heart. It took him all over the world and threw him into a mix of very diverse people. He always held his own whatever company he kept, and his geniality, charm, and ready smile were captivating, disarming, and persuasive, and camouflaged the true nature of the man. Only a scant few were ever allowed to see the real Michael Dalton, get a glimpse of his superior intelligence, inside knowledge of international politics, and formidable understanding of world history.
There was a lot of speculation about what he really did for a living. Some people said he was a secret agent with the CIA. Others maintained he was British-born, worked for British Intelligence, and went undercover for MI6. And there were those who insisted he was a negotiator, a fixer, a go-between for presidents and prime ministers. Others had decided he constructed huge financial deals for tycoons, tyrants, and oligarchs. They insisted that was where all his money came from. But they were wrong.
Michael Dalton did exactly what he actually purported to do. He owned and ran an international security company with offices in London, Paris, and New York. It was renowned, had a fine reputation, and was highly successful with a raft of big clients, including major corporations, banks, and multinationals.
Many of the other things bandied around about him happened to be true. He was an American, had been born in New York, had attended Princeton and Harvard, did have a law degree, and had been engaged. Once. Now he was unencumbered and preferred it that way.
Michael Dalton had two mantras: Those who retire die; he who travels fastest travels alone. These thoughts were on his mind as he strode out onto the terrace of the hotel and glanced around. Only two tables were taken. In one corner there was a young blond woman, in the other the man he had come to meet.
As he reached the table, put his hand on the man’s shoulder, he received the response he fully expected, “Take a gander at the other table, Michael. I’ve not seen such a beautiful blonde for centuries. ”
Michael laughed and sat down. “You never change, Charlie, you’ve always got one eye on a girl even when you’re doing business.”
Charles Anthony Gordon, who ran a private bank in London, laughed with Michael, and asked, “What are you drinking? Not the usual Coca-Cola, I hope?”
“No. I’ll have tea instead.”
“Guess what? I’ll have the same. It’s a bit too early for booze. So how do you feel now that you’ve broken off the engagement?”
“Relieved. I was just thinking that as I came out onto the terrace. I was also reminding myself that when a man retires he dies.”
“I expect that’s a dig at me, old chap, but guess what? I think I’m going to change my mind.”
“You’re not going to
When Kemal returned a short while later Mustafa left the showroom and Kemal spoke swiftly in Turkish, after excusing himself to Justine.
Once he had finished, Iffet made a moue. “Some good news; Kemal’s father did know your grandmother. He told Kemal that an Englishwoman called Gabri did buy carpets from him. The bad news is that he hasn’t seen her for some years. I am so sorry.”
“It’s okay. And at least we know Gran did spend time in Istanbul. Gabri is her nickname, by the way.”
Ten
The man cut quite a swathe as he walked through the lobby of the Çiragan Palace Kempinski hotel, was well aware of the glances cast his way. He was used to it, therefore paid no attention.
His name was Michael Dalton, and he was tall, lithe, and in excellent physical condition at the age of thirty-nine. Because of his arresting dark good looks and last name, the movie buffs who met him thought he might be the brother of the British actor Timothy Dalton. But he was not, nor was he in the business of treading the boards or making movies.
Michael Dalton was in a very different kind of game, and it was one which was close to his heart. It took him all over the world and threw him into a mix of very diverse people. He always held his own whatever company he kept, and his geniality, charm, and ready smile were captivating, disarming, and persuasive, and camouflaged the true nature of the man. Only a scant few were ever allowed to see the real Michael Dalton, get a glimpse of his superior intelligence, inside knowledge of international politics, and formidable understanding of world history.
There was a lot of speculation about what he really did for a living. Some people said he was a secret agent with the CIA. Others maintained he was British-born, worked for British Intelligence, and went undercover for MI6. And there were those who insisted he was a negotiator, a fixer, a go-between for presidents and prime ministers. Others had decided he constructed huge financial deals for tycoons, tyrants, and oligarchs. They insisted that was where all his money came from. But they were wrong.
Michael Dalton did exactly what he actually purported to do. He owned and ran an international security company with offices in London, Paris, and New York. It was renowned, had a fine reputation, and was highly successful with a raft of big clients, including major corporations, banks, and multinationals.
Many of the other things bandied around about him happened to be true. He was an American, had been born in New York, had attended Princeton and Harvard, did have a law degree, and had been engaged. Once. Now he was unencumbered and preferred it that way.
Michael Dalton had two mantras: Those who retire die; he who travels fastest travels alone. These thoughts were on his mind as he strode out onto the terrace of the hotel and glanced around. Only two tables were taken. In one corner there was a young blond woman, in the other the man he had come to meet.
As he reached the table, put his hand on the man’s shoulder, he received the response he fully expected, “Take a gander at the other table, Michael. I’ve not seen such a beautiful blonde for centuries. ”
Michael laughed and sat down. “You never change, Charlie, you’ve always got one eye on a girl even when you’re doing business.”
Charles Anthony Gordon, who ran a private bank in London, laughed with Michael, and asked, “What are you drinking? Not the usual Coca-Cola, I hope?”
“No. I’ll have tea instead.”
“Guess what? I’ll have the same. It’s a bit too early for booze. So how do you feel now that you’ve broken off the engagement?”
“Relieved. I was just thinking that as I came out onto the terrace. I was also reminding myself that when a man retires he dies.”
“I expect that’s a dig at me, old chap, but guess what? I think I’m going to change my mind.”
“You’re not going to
Similar Books
