Zizi, after reliably establishing that Sarah did not speak Arabic, decreed that the languages of the night were French and English. Their conversation was frighteningly banal. They talked of clothing and films, restaurants that Zizi liked to commandeer and a hotel in Nice that he was thinking about buying. The war, terrorism, the plight of the Palestinians, the American president—none of these seemed to exist. Indeed, nothing seemed to exist beyond the rails of Alexandra or the boundaries of Zizi’s empire. Zizi, sensing that Sarah was being left out, asked her once again to explain how she had found the van Gogh. When she refused to rise to his baiting, he smiled wolfishly and said, “One day I’ll get it out of you.” And Sarah, for the first time, felt a sickening rush of complete terror.

During the dessert course he rose from his place and pulled a chair alongside hers. He was dressed in a cream-colored linen suit, and the tops of his pudgy cheeks were colored red from the sun.

“I trust you found the food to your liking.”

“It was delicious. You must have been cooking all afternoon.”

“Not me,” he said modestly. “My chefs.”

“You have more than one?”

“Three, actually. We have a crew and staff of forty. They work exclusively for me, regardless of whether Alexandra is at sea or waiting in port. You’ll get to know them during our trip. If you need something, don’t hesitate to ask. I take it your accommodations are satisfactory?”

“More than satisfactory, Mr. al-Bakari.”

“Zizi,” he reminded her. He toyed with a strand of ebony prayer beads. “Mr. bin Talal told me you were upset by some of our rules and security procedures.”

“Perhaps taken by surprise would be a better description. I wish you would have told me in advance. I would have packed lighter.”

“Mr. bin Talal can be somewhat fanatical in his devotion to my security. I apologize for his behavior. That said, Sarah, when one enters the world of AAB Holdings, one has to adhere to certain rules—for the safety of everyone.” He flicked his wrist, and wrapped his prayer beads around the first two fingers of his right hand. “Did you have a chance to think about my offer?”

“I still don’t know what it is.”

“But you are interested. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

“Let’s just say I’m intrigued, and I’m willing to discuss the matter further.”

“You are a shrewd businesswoman, Sarah. I admire that. Enjoy the sun and the sea. We’ll talk in a few days when you’ve had a chance to relax.”

“A few days? I have to get back to London.”

“Julian Isherwood got along without you for many years, Sarah. Something tells me he’ll survive while you take a much deserved vacation with us.”