Jack Higgins – Sheba

Kane paused outside a solid, iron-bound door and pulled the bell chain. After a while there was a movement on the other side and the door swung open noiselessly.

The man who stood revealed presented an extraordinary figure. A full-blooded Somali, his ebony face was topped by a flowing mane of black hair. He stood six foot six and was broad in proportion: a giant of a man in white robes.

His mouth twisted in a grin and he moved to one side, motioning Kane to enter. Kane smiled and said in Arabic, ‘Is your mistress at home, Jamal?’

The Somali turned from the door and nodded. He had been branded in the centre of the forehead as was customary with slaves in certain parts of the Yemen. He had tried to escape from his master, and on being caught, had had his tongue cut out in the market place as a warning to others.

His second attempt at escape had been more successful. Dying from thirst in the desert, he had been found by Marie Perret, who had nursed him back to health. He had been her shadow ever since.

He led the way along a flagged path between the fig trees to a covered terrace, motioned Kane to a chair and disappeared inside the house.

Kane inhaled the freshness of the garden. It was a riot of colour and the night air was heavy with the scent of flowers. Several palms lifted their heads above the wall and gently nodded in the cool breeze, leaves etched against the night sky, and a fountain splashed into a fish pool amongst the trees. There was a light step behind him and he turned quickly and rose to his feet as Marie Perret walked out onto the terrace.

She was a small, graceful girl of twenty-five and the soft contours of her body were accentuated by the jodhpurs and khaki bush-shirt she was wearing. Her hair was black, an inheritance from her Arab mother, as were the wide, almond-shaped eyes and rather full mouth.

The rest of her was pure French, and she smiled gaily and flung herself down into a chair. ‘How are you, Gavin? What a wonderful night. I’ve just been for a ride.’

Kane grinned and offered her a cigarette. When he had given her a light, she leaned back in her chair. ‘Did everything go all right in Mukalla?’

He took a letter from his inside pocket and handed it across. ‘Sorry, I was forgetting. I saw your agent there yesterday. He gave me that for you.’

As she read it, he watched her covertly, marvelling at the change of expression on her face, cold, businesslike and purposeful. Since the death of her father when she was only twenty, she had ruled Perret and Company too with a rod of iron. From the Red Sea to the Pacific her name was a legend. Scrupulously honest, but shrewder than any bazaar trader.

She frowned slightly and called, ‘Ahmed – here a moment!’

A heavily built, grey-haired Arab came out onto the terrace. He wore European clothes and held a pen in one hand as though disturbed from some important work. He was the general manager of the firm and an old and trusted friend of her father’s.

He smiled and nodded to Kane, and Marie handed him the letter. ‘Read that, will you? Gavin has brought it from Mukalla. Laval says he can take all the sesame oil he can get. If we move fast we can buy up all available stocks.’

Ahmed nodded and was about to go back inside when Kane said, ‘Just a moment, Ahmed. Perhaps you can help me.’

Ahmed turned with a smile and said in perfect English, ‘What is it, Gavin?’

‘There’s a Mrs Cunningham in town at the moment. She’s looking for her husband. When she last heard of him he was supposed to be coming to Dahrein, but no one seems to know anything about him.”

Ahmed frowned for a moment and then nodded. ‘Cunningham – John Cunningham. Yes, I remember him. He wanted to go up-country to Shabwa.’

‘When was this?’ Kane demanded.

The Arab shrugged. ‘About two months ago.’ He turned to Marie and explained. ‘It was when you were in Bombay. This Englishman landed from the boat and visited me at the office. He wanted to go to Shabwa. I warned him of the dangers but he wouldn’t listen. We had a convoy of four trucks taking equipment to Jordan. I let him go with them.’

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