Characters:
He
The servant Khishan
Iraq at the present time

(A large room with excessive furniture in clashing colours. The room is crowded with chairs and sofas and there is a big expensive-looking table in the centre with a chair drawn up to it. Objets d'art, cheap statuettes and other things fill the place, giving it a suffocating atmosphere. What attracts your attention are three telephones on the big table, brightly coloured and arranged in a particular way: the green one and the yellow one are at the far end of the table, the red directly facing the chair.
The time of day is not precisely defined.
He walks up and down in front of the table, clearly worried. He is short with a prominent stomach, broad shoulders, and thick hair and an abundant moustache, both dyed jet-black. His clothes are expensive but not elegant, and in poor taste.
One of the telephones rings and a light flashes on it, in time with the ringing. It is the green telephone.)

He: Now it's you, bloody woman. (He goes slowly towards the table and lifts the green receiver.) Yes. I know. I've told you a thousand times don't call me here. I'm up to my ears in work and I need to keep the phone free. I don't have time for women's chitchat. Do you understand? What do you want? Why are you telling me? Ask the driver. He'll see to everything. You're checking with me first! I don't give a damn. (He replaces the receiver firmly.) For God's sake. She's got nothing to do but cook all day long and she has to have me to help her.
(The yellow phone rings and flashes and he goes slightly faster towards it and lifts the receiver.)

Hallo. Hasan? Don't call me now. I've told you a thousand times. You know I'm waiting for an important call. What? What's wrong with him? I've never heard anything like it. The bastard's been kidnapped and he wants a doctor to examine him! I spit on him, brother. Tell him the boss spits on you and doesn't agree to your request.
Goddammit. A sick hostage. Why did you kidnap him? Did I order it? Who is he? Oh, that idiot businessman. He's faking it. Tell him to hurry up and pay the fifty thousand, otherwise no doctor and we leave him to rot.
Tell him the boss said that. Bye. (He replaces the receiver with some degree of firmness.) For God's sake. What kind of a job is this! I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. You do things properly, kidnap them and demand a ransom, and they think they're in hospital. It drives you mad.

(He walks around irritably. The red phone rings and flashes. He rushes eagerly towards it.) Yes sir. Yes, it's me. At your service. Yes. Ministry of the Environment? What's that, Your Eminence? I've never heard of it. It's up to you. I would have preferred the Ministry of Finance. That might have been useful for us, given my area of expertise, you know. I've never heard of this one. Ministry of Culture? I haven't heard of a ministry for culture. No really. It looks as if they're trying to palm us off with the ones they don't fancy. Their leftovers, you know. It's humiliating, for them as well as us. I've been waiting three weeks, Your Eminence, for nothing. What did you say? Which of the hostages? Him, yes, he's still there. He hasn't paid yet. His family are playing for time. We haven't demanded much. Only fifty thousand. He deserves to pay a hundred thousand. What? Decrease the amount? If you say so. Your Eminence. I'll make it twenty thousand just for you. Only think of a Ministry that's worthy of me. Be fair to me, Your Eminence. I'm your loyal son. Goodbye.
(He replaces the red receiver gently and picks up the yellow one in annoyance.)
Hasan. Tell the idiot business man he has to pay twenty thousand fast. I had a call from the top about him. They've reduced it from fifty to twenty. What? No, not the contractor, forget about him for now. Let him die. I'm talking about the businessman who wants to be looked at by a doctor. Tell him the boss has made it twenty instead of fifty. I can't bring it down any further. Tell him if he's not happy with that, there's always his wife and son.
(The red phone rings and flashes. He hurriedly puts down the yellow phone and picks up the red.)

Yes sir. Big Brother. Not at all. Absolutely not. I swear. I didn't insult anybody .. neither Environment nor Culture. God forbid. Do you think I'm crazy? I said I hadn't heard of them, that's all. If a Ministry of the Environment exists, then I'd be interested .. that's what I said. The same goes for Culture. What .. me? Of course, cultured big time. But I .. forgive me sir, I hadn't heard there was a Ministry for Culture, that's all. Sorry? What did you say? Human Rights .. what's happened to them this time? They have a Ministry? How odd! I've honestly never heard of it. I read the newspapers, naturally. All the newspapers. But sir, they don't tell the truth. They talk in riddles. Analysis, comment, meaningless statements, analysis of the statements and so on and so forth. As for the really meaty Ministries, nobody remembers them or talks about them any more .. which are the really meaty Ministries, in my view? I honestly don't know. I've just heard about them. Where are they? I don't know. What did you say? For example? For example what? The Oil Ministry? I wouldn't go that far. That doesn't just fall into your hands sir. It's only for the really lucky ones. What are you saying sir? You're joking? God forgive you. I thought you were wanting me to agree to it. I hope so. I'll think about it sir, I'll think about it. Patience is a virtue. Goodbye sir.
(He puts the red phone down gently.)

It really is a very strange business, politics in this country. I'm not a rocket scientist. What's the Ministry of the Environment? The Ministry of Human Rights? The Ministry of Internal Tourism? The Ministry of Emigrants? I don't know if he was making fun of me or what.
(He suddenly gets angry and thumps the table with his fist.)

And he asks me what a really meaty Ministry means. Ha ha. Very strange, politics in this country. As if he doesn't know. As if!
(The yellow phone rings and flashes. He picks up the receiver unhurriedly.)

Ah .. Hasan. What? Who's he? His father owns a factory? What's he got? Roughly. Can you get fifty thousand out of him? Tell me. Yes or no. I don't want to hear maybe. What? Fine, get ready for a kidnap operation. I'll contact the group and ask them to do the necessary. They'll contact you, idiot, when the time's right. Them not you.
(He ends the call abruptly and lifts the red receiver.)

Abu'l-Zuz .. hallo. How are you? Get me four tough guys, equipped for a kidnap operation. Not a huge deal, but not that small either. Get a new place ready. We're overcrowded here. Contact Hasan and tell him what the plan is. The same cut of the proceeds. No change. Goodbye.
(He puts down the red phone. The green one rings and flashes. He doesn't answer it and walks away from it as it continues to ring.)

Go to hell. I'm not going to answer.
(The green stops ringing. The yellow rings and he picks up the receiver.)

Ah .. Hasan. What? A foreigner? What sort of foreigner? You told me he was the son of a factory owner, you idiot. Now you're claiming he's foreign. You're really confusing me. Does he look wealthy or anything? Naturally, you can't tell. Let me think about it.
(He puts the phone down and walks about the room.)

What would we do with a foreigner? Who has nothing? But how does that moron know he's got nothing? Maybe he's a spy with twenty embassies funding him. Yes. Yes.
(He picks up the yellow receiver.)

Hasan you idiot, seize him quickly. Don't waste any time. Are the rest of the group with you? Fine, don't hang about. What? Them? What? Four? Four foreigners in the car? Why didn't you say so before, for God's sake. Perhaps they're all spies. Take them all. Do you know where they're from? One's American! God is great! What about the others? A British and two Australians. Very good. Take them to Atiya's house. Do you know where that is? Be quick.
(He replaces the receiver.)

Four spies in one go! That's a big haul. Or a big headache.
(The green phone rings and flashes. He hesitates, then picks it up. He listens for a few moments.)

Are you crazy? What planet are you living on? Here I am killing people left right and centre, including women, children, old people. The discussions over Ministries are in full swing. My name crops up all the time on the lists of candidates. And you have the barefaced cheek to call me to tell me the onions Hamza bought aren't worth what he paid for them. You're completely and utterly mad. Throw them in the rubbish bin, you stupid woman, and leave me in peace.
(The red phone rings and flashes. He puts the green phone down forcefully.)

Yes, Your Eminence. Nothing at all. No new message from Big Brother. The Supreme Brother! Ah, yes, I understand. What does he want? Yes. Four foreigners by mistake. An American, a British and two Australians. Yes.
(He listens for a few moments then shouts)

Kill the American? What for? Sorry, Your Eminence, I lost it for a moment. Only him? Him to start with. Fine, fine. Now? In a week's time. Whatever you say. What do you mean, Your Eminence? In public? What does in public mean in this context? Ah .. we video the execution and send the tape to a television channel. That's a new thing if you don't mind me saying so. I'll personally make sure it's done. Absolutely no problem. Any other news, Your Eminence? The Ministries and so on? Nothing. But time's going by fast all the same, Your Eminence, isn't it? Sorry? You haven't received the money? That's impossible. Fifty thousand exactly, it hasn't arrived? Impossible. Just excuse me for a moment.
(He presses a bell on the table. Almost at once the door opens and a very tall man enters, ugly and animal-like.)

Khishan, look here Khishan, His Eminence hasn't received the fifty thousand yet. How's that?
Khishan (who talks slowly and with difficulty): There's a traffic jam .. on the way. A traffic jam .. on the way.
(He motions to Khishan to leave the room and Khishan hurries out.)
He (talking into the red telephone again): Sir, the roads just happen to be busy so the guy with the package has been held up. He'll be there in a few minutes I hope. There's no cause for concern. You'd have no right to be anxious, Your Eminence, if I was in charge of the whole thing. Sorry? I look forward to hearing good news from you. Big Brother hasn't been in touch and I'm on tenterhooks here. Yes, yes. Goodbye.
(He replaces the receiver gently.)

He (talking to himself): How much is this fucking Ministry going to cost me? The millions stolen we can work out and recoup, or not. It doesn't matter. But .. kidnapping and torture and execution .. public execution, how can we make all that look as if it never happened? Or, more accurately, how can we account for it? Doesn't that matter either! The Ministry of Human Rights, he says! The Ministry of the Environment, he says! The Ministry of Internal Tourism! The Ministry of Emigrants! We accept, brother, only just tell me how we can get back the millions we've paid out. And who from? From Human Rights or the Environment? Very strange, the way people live these days.
(The yellow phone rings and flashes. He lifts the receiver.)

Yes, Hasan. All of them? In a safe place? Certainly not, we won't demand a ransom. We'll wait. Have you taken away their passports? Are they all foreigners like you said? Fine, fine. The businessman .. has he paid? What about the other one? They haven't paid yet? Do you realise, you idiot, that I had to pay out fifty thousand in bribes not long ago? Nothing, just to keep one of those corrupt middlemen happy. When am I going to see that again? God will provide, you say? Don't make me fart laughing. Shut up, you moron. Keep your eye on the foreigners and don't mistreat them. Do you hear me? Wait for my orders. Look after them well.

(He replaces the receiver. The green phone rings. He moves away from the table as if he hasn't heard it. He walks about with his hands behind his back. Meanwhile the red phone rings and he jumps over and stops the green phone ringing by raising the receiver and replacing it, then picks up the red phone.)

Yes. Yes. Thank you, Your Eminence. I told you it was the busy roads delaying the arrival of the "goods", as you say. Yes. What! What? Have they spoken to Your Eminence? Big Brother himself talked about me? Thank God! Yes. I'm listening. Yes. What? A Minister without a Ministry? What does that mean? A Minister in name only? So in that case I have to sit at home in the kitchen with my wife watching my belly get bigger every day. How can that be .. Your Eminence? How can it be? And how will we recoup … (He pauses) Sorry, how will we be able to serve our country while I'm a Minister without a Ministry? Is it reasonable? And my economic expertise, which you're well acquainted with, Your Eminence, how will I use this if not to serve Iraq? Our country, Your Eminence knows, is passing through a major crisis. A crisis of occupation, and a crisis of ignorance and corruption. You all know that, and I'm always at your service. Sorry? The businessman? I've told you the amount's been reduced to twenty thousand. Of course. Of course. As Your Eminence wishes. But .. if you don't mind me saying, sir, I mean a Minister without a Ministry, that's like someone saying to you take this circle of bread and eat what you want without breaking it! Is that possible? Is it? Yes. Yes! Political twisting and turning? It's the first time I've heard the expression. How do I do that? Of course, Your Eminence, I'll put up with anything, be crooked .. straight .. as you wish. But .. without a Ministry! That's a real disaster. Sorry. I've given you a headache. Yes. I understand. Goodbye. (He puts the phone down irritably. He stands up and walks about then thumps the table with his fist. He talks to himself.)

A Minister without a Ministry! Very odd. But .. perhaps it means they have some regard for me all the same. The most important question is how we sort out the finances. There's the money left to pay on the apartment block in Amman, the flat in Beirut, the shares, the plan to set up a bank and all the other things. I can't keep my mouth shut about them. It's grossly unfair. A real injustice. Anyway, why should I keep quiet?
(The green phone rings and flashes. He lifts the receiver reluctantly.)

You again? What do you want? What? What news? They offered me the job of Minister without a Ministry.
(He listens for a few moments.)

You really are crazy. Celebrating like that as if it's your wedding day, you're insane. What am I supposed to do with this job? I know, stupid woman, I know I'll be a government minister and be called Your Excellency. But what do I get out of it? What's the point of being a Minister without a Ministry? Don't you understand? Where will I get money from? Who's going to give me the cash to pay for the jewellery you're drowning in? Tell me that. What's a Minister without a Ministry? Go away and leave me alone.
(He puts the receiver down then begins walking about the room in the usual way, talking to himself.)
I could really turn the tables on them. Couldn't I?
(The yellow phone rings. He picks it up.)

Ah, Hasan? He paid the twenty thousand? Let him go. And the contractor? He's paid too. Let him go as well. What about the foreigners? Are they somewhere safe? I'll be giving you the orders shortly. Put the money in the usual place, and I'll call you myself.
(He puts the phone down. He walks about.)

I swear if I could turn the tables on them, I'd be satisfied. The one we all look up to says to me politics is about twisting and turning. This is the first time I've heard such nonsense. Human rights. The rights of the environment. Tourism for emigrants. Political twisting and turning. What kind of a world are we living in? How can I turn the tables on them? I'm scared I'd get screwed too, and lose everything - the millions, the apartment building, the Beirut flat, the shares, the Ministry. So I'll have to beat these thugs at their own game. Be on my guard and twist and turn like a snake, as they'd put it. But how?
(The red phone rings and flashes. He hurries over and picks it up.)

Hallo. Yes, Your Excellency Big Brother, your obedient servant. No, not at all, absolutely not. I didn't complain, I didn't .. sorry .. you were misinformed sir. It's an honour just to talk to you, so imagine when you're kind enough to ask me to work for you. The foreigners are still there. Yes, under heavy guard, but no ill treatment. Yes. Only, Big Brother sir, forgive me, I mean Minister without a Ministry, it's unreasonable in my view. Don't you think so yourself? Sorry? Yes. That's very strange. There was no such idea in my case? But His Eminence told me that you'd told him to offer me a post as Minister without a Ministry. There's no truth in that report either? I see. I see. Your Excellency simply wanted to make sure we were still holding the foreigners? Yes. I understand. I'm grateful to you. Thank you. Goodbye.
(He replaces the receiver on the red phone. He walks about.)

It's like that then. No. This time I'm not going to let it go. Not this time. I've handed over three and a half million American dollars to them so far, and slaughtered so many innocent people on their behalf that I've lost count, and yet here they are, too mean even to give me a Ministry without a Minister .. I mean Minister without a Ministry. Fine, shall I twist and turn politically or attack like a raging bull? (He thumps the table with his fist.)

I can't twist and turn. I've never tried it. I'm as straight as a die. A criminal. Yes, possibly, but a straight criminal who doesn't know how to be crooked. So be it. But you owe me. I've paid you millions of dollars, so pay me back with a really meaty Ministry. That's logic, which I understand very well, but if they don't understand it, then the bull .. will start raging.
(He picks up the yellow receiver.)

Hasan .. Hasan, listen to me carefully. I've just got the orders. Take a professional cameraman with you and a video camera, understand? A photographer and a video camera. The two of you go to where the four foreigners are being held. Do you understand? Tell me if you understand. Fine. Listen carefully. Kill them one after the other with the camera rolling. Don't shout in my ear like that, you fool. Those are the orders. They come from the top. You'll get a couple of thousand once you've done the job. I'll give you the money in person. You have my word. Kill them, film the whole thing and send the tape to the usual TV channel. I said don't shout. Everything I'm telling you is orders from the top. Do you understand? Tell me, do you understand? Tell me. Let me hear you saying it. Very good. When everything's been seen to, you come and get your money from me personally, not from anyone else. Don't hang about. Do it and come here quickly and you'll find the money waiting for you. Off you go, and take care.

(He replaces the receiver then gets up from his seat and lies down on one of the sofas. A considerable period of time passes. The door opens very quietly and the servant Khishan enters. He sits up on the sofa, looking at the servant. )

Khishan? How dare you come in without asking permission? What do you want? Talk, fool. (Very slowly Khishan takes a revolver from his pocket and begins firing at him as the curtain falls.)

Amman, June 2006.