"I need a cigarette." He didn't want Darius thinking he was reaching for his Colt instead of a packet of Camels.

He took the cigarettes out of his shirt pocket. "Want one?" he asked.

The moonlight was bright enough for him to see Darius nod.

Not yet prepared to close the distance between them, he tossed a cigarette and his lighter to Darius.

"What is at Malaqua?"

Darius lit his cigarette. "An abandoned Italian airfield. Another six hours and Monck and Constantin will be in Tripoli."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"About Monck getting away?" Darius shrugged. "I'm indifferent. About Constantin? Constantin would be better off not getting on the d.a.m.n plane. It's an option I doubt Monck will give him."

Jack inhaled deeply. "Tell me about Monck. For how long has he been Rommel's spy?"

"For as long as Rommel has been in North Africa. But he's not Rommel's spy, Jack. According to Constantin, Sholto has been spying for Ribbentrop since 1933. The payoff now is the promise that he'll be given a leading role in the future German government of Britain-a.s.suming, of course, that Germany wins the war."

Jack was so stunned that it took him a moment or so to make sense of what Darius was telling him. He'd been a junior diplomat in the Foreign Office when Ribbentrop, as. .h.i.tler's special commissioner, had regularly visited London and met with Ramsay MacDonald, and with MacDonald's foreign secretary, Sir John Simon.

He'd met with a lot of other people too. When war with Germany was still six years away, Joachim von Ribbentrop had been a popular guest at many society dinner tables. Jack remembered Delia telling him of a dinner party where Ribbentrop and the Prince of Wales were both guests.

Had Ribbentrop's brief been to snare the Prince of Wales into friendship with Hitler so that when he became king, he would be king of a country n.a.z.i Germany could count on as an ally? Not only did Edward have a host of German relatives, he also spoke German flawlessly. To Hitler, it would have seemed a viable possibility.

Ribbentrop had obviously set out to target other British aristocrats as well. He remembered seeing him with Lord Rothermere. When German intelligence unearthed the fact that Sholto had a German father, Ribbentrop must have thought he had struck gold.

"And Monck contacted Constantin, in order for Constantin to act as his radio operator?"

"That would seem to be about it."

"And did so from aboard the Egyptian Queen?"

"That would seem to be about it as well."

Jack drew in his breath. "The transmitter. Where the devil did you hide it?"

"Inside a radiogram. Below the turntable. All your men did, when they searched the houseboat, was lift the lid. And now you know all that, Jack, what are you going to do about it? Because if you're thinking of taking me back to Cairo to be tried as a spy, I think it's only fair to tell you that I won't let you."

He moved his hand slightly and Jack heard the sound of metal grazing the top of the well wall. Whether it was a revolver or merely the cigarette lighter, Jack couldn't tell.

Determined to find out, he threw his cigarette away. "If that's what I wanted to do," he said, steel in his voice, "I'd have done it already. And it may come to that if you don't see sense."

Darius remained silent, the tip of his cigarette still gleaming red in the darkness.

"Why did you throw in your lot with the Germans, Darius? They're slaughtering Jews in their thousands and you're well educated enough to know that Arabs, too, are a Semitic people. You can't really believe that if Hitler wins the war, he will allow Egypt to govern itself."

"It's a possibility, and any possibility is better than none."

"There's another possibility I like far better."

"And what's that?"

"Throw me back the lighter and I'll tell you."

The lighter came winging through the darkness.

Jack caught it, hoping he wouldn't hear further sounds of metal sc.r.a.ping brick.

"Until tonight I didn't know about your involvement with Sholto. And I didn't know Constantin was his radio operator. But I did know that you had close links with the Free Officers Movement-and particularly close links with Anwar Sadat. The Americans know too, and are very interested."

"The Americans? Of what interest is Egypt to the Americans?"

"America will end up entering the war-and Egypt will be of great importance to them. They are republicans and anti-imperialists, Darius. They will want to deal with a free Egypt without a monarchy, and without a British presence carrying the baggage of an imperialist past. Which is exactly what the Free Officers Movement wants as well."

Darius was again silent, but Jack knew he had his full attention.

"The government of an independent Egypt would be up for grabs. The Muslim Brotherhood have huge popular support. A mullah-led theocracy would not be the easiest for Western governments to work with. America prefers Na.s.ser and his friends."

"Are you sure? Aren't you forgetting that Na.s.ser and Sadat are both Muslims?"

"No, I'm not forgetting. What matters to the Americans is that they've never gone along with the extremism of the Muslim Brotherhood. And you are a Copt. American intelligence believes Na.s.ser and Sadat have earmarked you for a role in any future government they might form. The Americans-always looking to the future-want to nurse you along as their main contact in that government."

"Which means they wouldn't want to see me shot as a spy?"

"Which means they very definitely wouldn't want to see you shot as a spy."

"Then that's just as well-for the British." Dry, dark humor entered Darius's voice. "The British wouldn't, after all, want to shoot an innocent man, would they?"

The silence that followed was so profound Jack could hear his heart beating.

"Run that past me again," he said, terrified he might have heard wrongly.

"I said that the British wouldn't want to shoot an innocent man."

"Are you innocent?" Jack felt giddy with hope. "Explain."

Darius flicked the ash from his cigarette. "I always knew Constantin gathered information for the Germans. It was all petty stuff. Things barbers, waiters, prost.i.tutes overheard. And as far as I knew, all he did with it was report it to his superiors at the legation. Then he told me that a 'big fish' at the British emba.s.sy had contacted him. On the surface it was pretty startling information, but I didn't think the big fish was a serious spy. I reckoned Constantin was bragging. He never told me the name."

"So when did you know that it was Monck?"

"When he boarded the Egyptian Queen two hours or so ago with Constantin and Zahra and a revolver in his hand."

"It's a nice try, Darius, but it doesn't explain why the transmitter was aboard the Egyptian Queen-and why British intelligence picked up regular signals."

"That's easy." Darius tossed his cigarette stub into the darkness. "It was Constantin who introduced me to Sadat and, before you ask, I don't believe Sadat knew about Sholto, or that Sholto knew about Sadat. Constantin had many irons in the fire and kept them all separate. Sadat was mulling over whether an uprising within the Egyptian army-an uprising timed to help Rommel take Cairo-would be beneficial or not to Egypt. He didn't have faith in Germany's promise to give Egypt full independence. He'd drawn up a treaty. That was why Constantin brought the transmitter to the houseboat. So that Sadat-who is a signals officer-could make direct arrangements with Rommel for a member of the Free Officers Movement to fly to Libya with the treaty."

The dog, which had been quiet for a while, began barking again.

Jack thought of the British Gladiator that had been shot down over the German lines. Whatever arrangements Sadat had made with Rommel for his officer's safe arrival obviously hadn't filtered down to the gunners on the Libyan border who had inadvertently done Britain a big favor.

"Transmissions to Rommel about flying out an officer wouldn't account for the number of transmissions we picked up from the Egyptian Queen."

"No, probably not. Throw me another cigarette."

Jack lit one from his own cigarette, and walked close enough to Darius to hand it to him.

There was no gun, he noticed, either in Darius's hand or on the top of the wall.

"I think what happened," Darius said, "was that after Constantin's colleague was booted back to Bucharest on charges of spying, the legation, or wherever Constantin was transmitting from, became too hot. Once the transmitter was aboard the Egyptian Queen for Sadat's use, I think Constantin used it to transmit for Sholto. I once found him on board when I came home early from a party."

Jack not only wanted to believe him. He did believe him.

Turning around, he lifted himself up on the wall so that they were sitting companionably next to each other.

"Just out of curiosity," Darius said, pushing a lock of hair away from his brow, "how did you reconcile the idea of me being a British spy with my love for Davina? And before you answer that, you'd better let American intelligence know that I'm going to marry her."

"I don't think marrying Davina will queer your pitch with Na.s.ser and Sadat. She's half American, for one thing. For another, her years of volunteer work among the fellahin is testimony of her loyalty to Egypt. Did anyone else think you were a spy, by the way? Did Petra?"

Darius grinned and shook his head. "No, though Petra's never liked me too much, mainly because she thought I was going to make Davina unhappy. When she knows differently, I'm hoping our relationship will change. Fawzia a.s.sumes I'm a spy, though. And Fawzia will always a.s.sume I'm a spy. It's the reason I never wasted time trying to convince her otherwise. Just to cinch the fact that I'm not, I've got something for you. I pocketed it when Constantin was looking elsewhere."

From his back trouser pocket he withdrew a slim, dogeared paperback book.

"It's Constantin's codebook," he said as he handed it over. "No transmitter, though. That's on its way to Tripoli."

As Jack's fingers closed on the book, he knew that Darius had provided all the commitment that American and British intelligence would need.

He thought of Sholto Monck.

"I would have liked," he said fiercely, "to have seen Monck before a firing squad."

Darius's mouth tugged into a wry smile. "He didn't much like you, either. On our drive out here he had quite a few choice things to say. One of them I should pa.s.s on to you." He took a long draw on his cigarette. "He told me that Petra is your father's daughter."

Jack chuckled. "No, she isn't. When I was five my father had mumps. It left him infertile. It's why I'm an only child. And there's a six-year age difference between Petra and me. You can work out the math for yourself."

"Then perhaps you should have a word with Petra. According to Sholto, your mother's husband, Theo Girlington, told her years ago that Jerome was her father. She's believed it ever since."

Jack ceased to breathe.

In one flashing moment, everything was clear.

He knew why Petra had fled London, and him, in such distress.

He knew why she had been terrified of having the slightest physical contact with him.

And he knew why Delia had so fiercely vetoed their love affair. She'd had suspicions; suspicions she had obviously never voiced to his father, suspicions she had kept a secret.

A secret that was now dust in the wind.

He sucked in air. The world revolved again.

"Come on," he said to Darius, joy roaring through his veins. "It's time the two of us got back to Cairo."

Together they walked across the village square to the jeep.

Jack slid behind the wheel. In Cairo Petra was waiting for him, just as Davina was waiting for Darius, and he knew now-had known from the moment he had seen the terror in her eyes when he had left her to hunt Sholto down-that she still loved him. That she had always loved him, just as he had always loved her.

He put the jeep into gear, and as he headed out of El-Laban, he began whistling "Dixie" as loudly and as jubilantly as his lungs would allow.

AUTHOR'S NOTE..

In 1948 King Farouk divorced Queen Farida and married a commoner, Nariman Sadeq. In 1952 he was forced into exile in Italy in a revolution led by Gamal Abdel Na.s.ser. In 1956 Na.s.ser became president of Egypt and remained president until his death in 1970, when Anwar el-Sadat was then selected to succeed him. Sadat was a.s.sa.s.sinated by Muslim extremists in 1981.

READERS' GUIDE.

1. When Ivor meets Delia in Virginia, he has been encouraged by Sylvia to find and marry a New York heiress. Why do you think he chooses Delia instead?

2. During her very first conversation with Jerome, Delia is reminded of her beloved cousin Beau and "instantly liked" the man she took to be a close friend of her husband. What do you imagine is Jerome's initial att.i.tude toward her? Do you think he expects a friendship to grow between them?

3. Discuss the character of Sylvia. Upon first meeting Delia, Sylvia regards her with a patronizing smile, obviously confident in her own power over Ivor and the supposed inconsequence of his new wife. But after Delia saves her from drowning, Sylvia admits to an intense hatred for and jealousy of Delia. What has caused such a dramatic change? In your opinion, is it really Delia that Sylvia hates, or does her resentment belong more truly to Ivor, Jerome, herself, or her circ.u.mstances in general? How would you describe the balance of power in Sylvia and Ivor's relationship, and in Delia and Ivor's relationship, at this pivotal point?

4. What do you think of the division of the novel into character-focused sections? Does the order make sense to you? Does the choice of featured characters? Is there anyone else whose point of view you would have liked to see included?

5. When the Conisborough family arrives at their new home in Cairo, Delia reflects that she's happy with her choice of the young, pretty Kate Gunn as a nanny. Why do you think Delia likes Kate? Do you think she chooses her as much for Ivor as for the children, or is their affair an unintended consequence for Delia?

6. What role does Ivor play in his romantic relationships? How do his wants and needs change throughout the book? Discuss his progression from the commanding Sylvia, to the beautiful and haughty Olivia, to the magnetic and headstrong Delia, to the relatively una.s.suming Kate Gunn. What does each woman mean to him, and what role does he play in their lives?

7. Delia is often described as "unconventional." What exactly does this label mean to her? To what extent does she appreciate the power it holds, and how does this change throughout the novel? Does she become more unconventional as she gets older? Do you think she would have been seen this way if she had stayed in America?

8. Why doesn't Delia talk to Jerome directly about the possibility that Petra may be his child? Is there anything in Petra's character that leads you to believe that she could be? How did you interpret Delia's comment that Jerome was "most definitely not [Petra's] uncle"? Are there any other questions of paternity that occurred to you while reading Palace Circle?

9. As Jerome warns Delia soon after her arrival in London, infidelity among their social cla.s.s is not only tolerated but to some degree expected. Do you think the same acceptance of adultery carries on to the next generation? Why or why not? How aware are the children of their parents' affairs?

10. Though Delia has other reasons for gladly accepting a divorce from Ivor, she cites one main justification for the timing: Ivor and Kate are eager to have a child together-for Ivor, hopefully a son and heir. Do you think it's strange that Delia should support this, considering that her own daughters' inheritance is at stake? Is this decision in keeping with her personality? Is it in the best interest of her family?

11. What do you think of Ivor's character? Are his transgressions against his wife forgivable? How does his treatment of Delia change over the course of the novel? In your estimation, is he a good man?

12. Where does Davina get her seemingly boundless energy for community service and involvement with lower cla.s.ses, as opposed to Petra, who remains happily focused on the activities of her own cla.s.s? Is Davina's hands-on civic mindedness what Delia has in mind when she tells Petra that it is she, not Petra, who will "turn her father's hair white"? How do you think Ivor feels about his daughters' choices in activities?

13. Consider the importance of setting in Palace Circle. From Virginia to London to family homes in the British countryside to Cairo, places hold a great deal of meaning to the characters in this book. Who is linked with which places, and how does this inform the characters' interactions with one another as well as your reading of the novel?