Dazzle The Complete Unabridged Trilogy (106 page)

'What would you have expected?' She looked deep into his
pale eyes, almost as though she were challenging him.

'And the . . . ahem . . . purpose of your visit?'

'Just that,' she replied calmly. 'A visit.'

He drummed his fingers on the scarred desktop. 'And how
long do you intend to stay?'

She shrugged. 'That all depends upon how we like it here.
A few days, a few weeks , . . perhaps even a few months. This
is my first vacation in years, and I intend to take full advantage
of it.'

'I see.' He pursed his lips and frowned. 'It says in here that
your name is Tamara Boralevi,' he said softly. He held up her
passport and waved it.

'That's my maiden name. Professionally I'm known as Tamara, but since even filmstars cannot go around with just
a single name on documents, I reverted to using my maiden
name after my husband died. I do not see a problem with
that.'

'Normally, we would have whisked a star of your obvious
stature through without formalities of any sort, but seeing that
your last name is what it is . . . well, it changes things, what?'
His eyes seemed to glare.

Tamara looked at him expressionlessly, crossed one knee
casually over the other, and clasped her hands over it. She
waited patiently.

'What I need to ascertain,' Diggins said sharply, 'is whether
you are, or are not, a relation of one Schmarya Boralevi.'

Tamara barely contained the wave of panic she felt at hearing her father's name, but she was unable to subdue the crim
son flush that flooded her face. 'My God, but it's hot in here,'
she murmured. She reached for a thin folder on Diggins' desk
and fanned herself briskly with it. 'Please, if we can cut this
short before I pass out from heat prostration?'

'A glass of water.' Diggins snapped his fingers and the sergeant hurried off to get it. He brought one glass for Tamara
and one for Inge. Tamara sipped hers and Diggins continued. 'This is a potentially explosive land. The influx of Jewish refu
gees has made the Arabs very angry and protective, and it's
taking all our efforts to keep some semblance of peace.
Believe me, Miss . .
.ah,
Boralevi, we do not wish Palestine
to turn into a war zone, what?'

'Nor do I. But what has all that got to do with me?' Her
mind whirled: I should have expected something like this.
How stupid of me. Why didn't I go by my married name? Now
I'm liable to lead them straight to my father. Damn.

'Your name is the same as that of the most notorious arms
smuggler in the territory,' the brigadier was saying. 'Our
official policy is that the fewer weapons are in the hands of the
civilian population, the more peaceful Palestine is apt to be.'

'Very noble, I'm sure,' she said mildly. 'However, with all
due respect, I don't understand the meaning of this. What
could my name possibly have to do with this interrogation? I
am not an arms smuggler.'

'I did not say you were, Miss Boralevi,' he said patiently. 'You are merely being questioned as to your relationship, if
any, with a man wanted for violence and smuggling arms.
Those are very serious charges.'

'Brigadier Diggins,' she intoned emphatically, 'you have
searched our luggage minutely and found that we are not
carrying contraband of any kind. I really cannot sit here and
tolerate your accusations—'

'My dear Miss Boralevi. You are not being accused of any
thing. Please, try to understand our position. The name
Boralevi is red-flagged. As soon as it crops up, we are required
to investigate. I am not allowed to make any exceptions.'

'
Then let me tell you a few things about myself.' Her face
was grim and her anger was barely controlled. 'I hardly remember my mother and I cannot recall my father at all.
Being a displaced person, I was raised by Miss Meier.' She
gestured at Inge. 'I have lived most of my life in the United
States and spent the past seven years making movies. For your
information, I have no family. This is my first, and undoubtedly my last, visit here. I have no idea what has been going on
in this place. Indeed, I know next to nothing about the Middle
East in general, but I must tell you that this place is beginning
to appeal to me less and less. If I am not welcome here because
of my last name, I should think you would be so good as to help
me make swift travel arrangements to Greece or wherever the
next boat is headed.'

'I didn't mean to imply—'

'Please,' she interrupted him. 'Spare me. I do not wish to
stay where I am unwelcome.'

Summoning all her talent, she raised her head so that she
could focus an intense gaze upon him and play to him as if he
were a camera. 'I should also like to inform you, and this is
off the record'—she lowered her voice—'that when I was in
London a couple of months ago, your King invited me to
return to see him on my way back and give him my opinions about Palestine. Now I'm afraid there will be precious little to tell him, other than my being traumatized and humiliated by
one of his loyal subjects.'

He stared at her as she rose to her feet.

'Come, Inge, let's leave this hellish oven and see if Captain
Goodhew will be so kind as to take us back aboard the
Lerwick.
'
She turned and made for the door, and Inge, gaping
in disbelief, shrugged in confusion and stumbled after her in
silence.

Diggins watched them leave, studying Tamara's moves to
see if she was bluffing. She had to be. Didn't she?

Soon she would reach the door. He suppressed a cry of
anger and resentment and shot to his feet with such speed that
he reached the door before her. 'P-please, Miss Boralevi,
d-do not be so hasty,' he stammered quickly, barring her way
with his body. 'I did not mean to offend you. I was only asking
the questions I'm required to ask.' He cleared his throat and
his Adam's apple bobbed visibly. It would be a pity to get
off on such bad footing so quickly, what?' His attempt at a
confident grin came off feebly.

She stared at him as though torn between decisions. She could see the beads of nervous perspiration on his forehead
and staining the armpits of his short-sleeved khaki shirt. She felt shame stealing over her. How easily crafty lies and manu
factured emotions sprang to her lips and face; this must be her
Hollywood legacy. But her father had to be protected. At any
cost.

At last she raised her chin and a frosty smile slid across her
lips. 'Very well, Brigadier,' she said abruptly, 'I take that to
mean we're free to go?'

He nodded quickly. 'And don't forget your passports. This
isn't America. You're supposed to carry identification at all
times.'

She nodded, took the passports from him, and slid them
into her purse.

'And, Miss Boralevi, I am sure our district commissioner, Sir William Hippisley, will be delighted to meet you. He and
Lady Juliet hold open-house parties for English-speaking visi
tors each Saturday afternoon.'

'How very nice. However, my intention is to travel incog
nito while here. I don't even want to register into the hotel
under my own name. I would appreciate it if my privacy is
respected.'

He shrugged. 'As you wish, Miss Boralevi, but Sir William
and Lady Juliet will be disappointed, to say the very least.'

'The disappointment will be mine, I'm sure. But I have no
desire to be treated as a film star while I'm here. I wish only
to melt into the crowd and lead a very ordinary tourist's exist
ence. Good day, Brigadier.'

'Good day, Miss Boralevi.' Diggins turned and scowled at Carne. 'Sergeant!' he barked. 'See that Miss Boralevi's lug
gage is brought out to one of our cars. Have her driven wher
ever she wants, courtesy of this department. And step to it
man!'

'Yessir!' The sergeant's body went rigid and he saluted
smartly. Then he pirouetted, stamped his feet, and marched
briskly out.

Tamara stared. 'That really isn't necessary, you know. Tel
Aviv is much too far to accept a lift.'

'I
t is nothing.'

Alarm bells shrilled in her head. By insisting that one of his
men drive her, he was regaining the upper hand and would be
in a firmly entrenched position to keep tabs on her movements. Sooner or later, this could very well lead him to her
father. She had to think of a way to decline firmly and gra
ciously—and get out of his clutches fast.

'Really, I couldn't accept your generous offer. Surely your
men have better things to do than escort me about.'

'On the contrary. I can't think of a single man who wouldn't
give his right arm for such delightful duty.'

'I only need help in arranging for a hired car,' she protested.
'If you'd be so kind as to—'

'I won't hear of it. Please, accept the ride in the spirit of my
trying to make amends.'

She felt suddenly sick. She had been outmanoeuvred, and
it was time for her to back down. 'How can I refuse?' she said
smoothly.

'It's little enough to offer you for having put you through
this . . . this trauma.' He smiled slightly, but his narrowed
eyes surveyed her shrewdly. 'And considering that I've per
mitted you entry into this territory, I'm ultimately responsible
for your well-being. You don't mind if I check up on you every
now and then?' He paused and held his slight smile. 'To make
certain you've come to no harm?'

She looked surprised. 'Who on earth would wish to harm
me?'

'Who knows? This is a strange country, and violence is a
way of life.'