Chapter 41




Dodi and Princess Diana enter the Paris Ritz Hotel through the main entrance, accompanied by Diana's personal chauffeur Philip and her two bodyguards Trevor and Kez Winfield. The head of security of the Ritz Hotel rushes out to greet them.

   "Henri!" Dodi says, pointing to the princess. "We’re going up to our suite to freshen up a little. We’ll be ready within half an hour. My Babo has given you the instructions."

   Henri nods and waves to the head of reception. "Musa! Please, help Mr. Dodi and the princess."

   The head reception rushes to the elevator and presses the button. The elevator door opens and Dodi and Princess Diana step into the elevator, followed by the head receptionist. The elevator goes to the top floor of the hotel.

   Henri turns to Diana's bodyguards and her chauffeur. "You guys wanna a drink?"

   "Yeah, please!" All three say almost simultaneously.

   The head of security walks to a small bar next to the main entrance of the hotel. His guests follow him. Henri takes out a bottle of French cognac Courvoisier.

   "Ay! Is it your birthday today?" Philip quips.

   "No! Why?”

   "Because you're the biggest miser on earth," says Trevor.

   Henri pours the cognac. "Ah! This is a special case, for my best friends."

   The men take place at the bar with their drinks. Kez raises his glass. "To Mr. Dodi!"

   “And his beautiful princess," adds Trevor.

   Philip corrects him. "His piece of ass"

   "Our piece of ass, man!" adds Kez. Everyone laughs and downs their drinks.

   The elevator door opens. The head of reception returns to his desk.



A gold-coloured Rolls Royce with diplomatic license plates drives up to the main entrance of the Paris Ritz Hotel. A piccolo runs out of the hotel and opens the door of the Rolls. A sturdy tall man dressed in a traditional Arab robe steps out of the limousine. He has a goatee and wears large sunglasses to prevent certain countrymen from recognizing him.

   The piccolo bows to the ground. "Welcome, His Royal Highness Prince al-Bin."

   The prince nods and points to the limo. The piccolo rushes to the other side of the Rolls and opens the door. Out of the limo steps a slender woman dressed in a green traditional silk Arab burqa, leaving only her eyes visible. The piccolo again bows to the ground.

   The prince strides to the main entrance of the hotel, slowly followed by his partner a few yards behind him.


"Philip!” says Henri, head of security, half whispering. “Listen, you and Kez go outside and sit in Dodi's limo."

   The personal chauffeur of Dodi and Diana casts a questioning look at Diana's bodyguards. Trevor and Kez shrug their shoulders. Philip pulls his face into a grimace. "I don’t understand! Why!"

   "The paparazzi will believe that Dodi and Diana will leave the hotel there," says the security chief of the Ritz. "We must deceive them."

   The chauffeur brushes his suggestion away. "Fuck you, man!"

   The security chief frowns. "Are you nuts?"

   “Order somebody else around. I’m not under your command!"

   One of Diana's bodyguards intervenes. "That's right. Henri, why are you playing the boss?"

   The head security comes closer to the trio. "It’s not my idea."

   The chauffeur lifts his head and spreads his hands. "But…!"

   "The boss!"

   "Yes! I’ve told Dodi. He agrees with me."

   Dodi's and Diana’s chauffeur frowns. "I’m going to Mr. al-Fayed and check that out myself."

   "Mr. Mohamed is sleeping. He has strictly forbidden anyone to disturb him," says the security chief dryly.

   Philip clenches his fist and with his other hand grabs the security chief by the lapels of his jacket. He waves his fist angrily in front of Henri's nose. "Okay. I’ll check it out tomorrow. But if you lied, I’ll smash that half French face of yours."

   Henri instinctively loosens himself from Philip’s grip and takes a step back. Swiftly he reacts by also clenching his fists. "Philip! Jerks like you I can handle three in a row with my hands tied behind my back."

   Philip is about to give the security chief a bash. Henri assumes a defense posture. Trevor and Kez react quickly, gain up on Philip and throw themselves in between the quarrel makers. "Philip! Cool it man!" shouts Kez. "And you, kid," he says, pushing the security chef aside. “Stop playing the big boss around here!"


The Arab prince and his partner enter the hotel. The piccolo carries two huge suitcases with great difficulty.

   The quarrel makers quiet down.

   The Arab walks up to the reception desk. "We have booked a suite."

   The head of reception bows. "Yes! Yes your Majesty! Your suite is next to the private suite of Mr. Mohamed al-Fayed’s son  Dodi and his fiancée Princess Diana.”

   The face of the Arab assumes a friendly look; he strokes his goatee. "Thank you! This is a great honour for us. Immediately after unpacking our suitcases, we would like to go out and enjoy the charms of Paris by night, naturally if this is no problem for you."

   "No! Not at all, your Royal Majesty! You can leave the hotel at any time and come back whenever you want. We are at your service 24 hours a day."

   "Thank you! How can we find our suite?"

   "Your Royal Majesty, it will be my honour to personally accompany you to your suite." The head reception points to the elevator, rushes towards it and presses the button to open the elevator door. The Arab steps in, his wife follows him. The piccolo enters the elevator last. The head reception presses the button and the elevator doors close.



The quarrel makers continue their fight. Trevor and Kez finally manage to push Philip back to where he was sitting. The security chief walks to the bar and helps himself to a double cognac.  He sits down on a stool at the bar and finishes his drink. "That spoiled brat started it," he shouts.

   Philip races back to the security chief. "You bloody fagot," he yells. "Who’s the spoiled brat here! I’ll break your bones!"

   "Ha ha ha!" Henri laughs. "In your dream, sure!"

   Diana's bodyguard Trevor grabs the hand of the chauffeur again and hugs him. "Philip! Take it easy, man!"

   "Don’t risk losing your job because of that old rat," Kez adds.

   Throwing Henri a hostile look, Philip returns to his seat. "I do not understand why Dodi chose this idiot for tonight!" he whispers to his colleagues.

   "Probably to play Ludo," Trevor laughs.

   "As if I'm not good enough."

   "Maybe it's her idea!" Kez suggests.

   Philip shrugs his shoulders. "Yeah, probably!"

   "That nymphomaniac wants someone stronger," says Trevor teasingly.

   "Next time, I swear, I’ll break her."


Two aristocratically dressed elderly ladies enter the hotel. One lady has a white poodle on a leash, the other lady a black one. The quarrel makers stop their wrangling.

   Henri gets up and approaches them. "Good evening. Did you amuse yourselves?”

  "Yes! Yes! Only our kids are terribly tired," says one of the ladies.

   Henri bends down and strokes both dogs. "You really have beautiful kids!"

   "Young man, please take us to our room as soon as possible," says the other lady.

   The head of security straightens up. "As you like."

   Henri rushes to the elevator. The ladies and the four-legged creatures follow him. Henri presses the button and notices that the elevator door is already opening. Out of the lift step the head of reception and the piccolo. They bow to the old ladies.

   "Musa Kusa!” Henri whispers in the ear of the receptionist. “Take the ladies to their suite."

   The head reception escorts the ladies and their dogs into the elevator, then enters himself. The piccolo follows him, but Henri grabs him by the sleeve. "Where do you think you’re going?"

   "Well! I thought ..!”

   "Since when are you allowed to think?"

   The bellhop leaves the elevator. The head reception presses the button; the doors close. Henri takes his car keys from his pocket and gives them to the bellhop. "Don’t be afraid, boy! I was just kidding. Go to the side entrance. Dip a cloth in eau de cologne and freshen up all the seats in my Mercedes."

   The bellboy takes the keys, bows and walks quickly to the side entrance. Henri goes back to his guests.


"That cuntlicker is back! That’s why Dodi chose him, to lick his mistress," Philip shouts.

   Trevor turns serious. "Philip!" he says. "Be sensible, man. Don’t bullshit so much!"

   "Ah! Tonight you won’t miss your share."

   "We two are condemned to play chess till dawn!" Kez grins.

   Philip raises the tone of his voice. "All because of this half French fagot."

   Trevor grabs his colleague. "Philip! I’ll keep an eye on that brute. Don’t worry."

   The chauffeur of Dodi and Diana heaves a deep sigh. "That damn motherfucker!"



 The elevator doors open. The head reception waves to Henri and goes to the reception desk. Henri gets up and follows him. The receptionist whispers something in his ear. Henri returns to his guests, points his forefinger to Trevor and sticks his thumb up. Trevor taps Philip on the shoulder. "Now, go outside please!"

   Phillip gets up, casts another hostile glance to the head of security and leaves the hotel through the main entrance. Kez follows him. They walk to Princess Diana’s official armored car. Philip opens the door and sits down. Kez gets into the car on the other side. Philip starts the engine.


It is now five minutes after midnight. In front of the hotel it is getting increasingly busy. Dozens of photographers are quickly getting their cameras ready. Drivers start their cars and motorists their motors.

   A UNK member of the paparazzi corps, who is employed by MI6, whispers in his cell phone to his colleague, who is stationed near the side entrance of the hotel, "Romuald! Everything goes according to plan. Philip and Kez are already in the limo. You stay there as agreed! Good luck!"

   "Thank you" replies Romuald, one of the top agents of the Gamma Group.

   "Stefan! They’re coming out here. Pretend you’re having trouble starting your motor," Romuald whispers to his motorist.

   The motorcyclist nods. "Don’t worry!"

   "Alarm! Guys!" Stefan thunders to his colleagues. "Lady Di is coming out through the main exit."

   As if struck by lightning, a dozen paparazzi quickly start their cars and leave their position near the side entrance to speed to the main exit.

   Stefan pretends to have problems starting his motor. "Fucking machine! Why the hell doesn’t it start now?"

   Romuald winks to his motorist. "You fagot," he yells. "You're fired!"

   In front of the side entrance of the Hotel Ritz remain only Romuald, his driver and a few special UKN journalists and photographers.


The bellboy returns to the hotel lobby and gives Henri his car keys back. "Patron! Everything has been freshened up!"

   "Did anyone notice you?"

   "No patron! I crawled in and out of the car like a real thief!"

   Henri stops the keys in his pocket and pulls out a bill of a hundred francs. "This is for you. And now go to sleep!"

   "Thank you! Thank you!" The bellboy pockets the money and hurries away.


Dodi is nervously pacing up and down his room. Princess Diana stares at him. Suddenly someone from the adjacent room knocks three times on the wall, then twice and three times again. Dodi is relieved.


At the reception desk the phone rings. The head reception answers. "Yes! One moment, please." Then he shouts, "Mister Paul!"

   The head security of the Ritz Hotel looks in his direction. The receptionist signals that it is for him. Henri rushes over and grabs the horn. "Yes!"

   "Henri!" He hears the voice of Dodi al-Fayed say. "We’ll be downstairs in one or two minutes. Are you ready?"

   "Yes! Yes!”

   "Please. We leave immediately, without delay, questions or comments."

   "The sooner the better," says the head of security.

   "Very well! We're coming!"

   The head of security hangs up.

   "May I ask you something, Mister Paul," says the receptionist.

   "Not now! I'm in a hurry!"

   "Just one short question."

   "Okay, go ahead!"

   "You know my name is Jean! So why do you call me Musa Kusa?!"

   The head security laughs. "Ah, my dear friend, you look a lot like one of my old friends Musa Kusa, head of security for Colonel Kadafi. That's why!"

   "Thank you for the compliment, Mister Paul!" exclaims the head receptionist.

   The head security grins. "You're welcome! You are welcome! Musa Kusa," He goes over to Trevor. "Compagnon! Are you ready? Dodi and the princess will be down any moment."

   "Yes! Yes!” Trevor jumps up from his chair like a cougar.


(The rest of this chapter can be read in the book.)