Jack Higgins – Sheba

‘After we’ve got you to a doctor,’ Kane said.

As Jamal picked him up, the young geologist fainted, and Kane led the way down through the garden to the truck. The Somali eased Jordan into the back seat, then climbed in beside Kane.

As they drove away, the surrounding houses were quiet, and Kane reflected grimly that it was a fortunate thing that, in Dahrein, gunfire in the night was not so unique as to arouse comment.

He braked to a halt outside the hotel and Jamal followed him in, Jordan cradled in his arms. The foyer was deserted and a Hindu night-clerk dozed behind the desk. Kane grabbed him by the shoulder and brought him rudely awake.

‘Where is Skiros?’

The Hindu spread his hands. ‘He is away, Sahib. He has been away for several days now.’

The man was lying, Kane was sure of that, but for the moment, he let it go. ‘Is Doctor Hamid still living here?’

When the clerk nodded, Kane went on, ‘Give me a key for a room on the first floor and get him out of bed. Tell him it’s urgent.’

The clerk moved round the desk, handed him a key, and went upstairs ahead of them. Kane quickly checked the number of the key, located the room and opened the door.

Jamal laid Jordan gently on the bed and stood back. Jordan’s face was beaded with sweat, and as Kane anxiously examined him, the door opened and a thin-faced, greying Arab entered. He wore a dressing-gown and carried a black bag. He nodded briefly to Kane, pushed him out of the way, and leaned over Jordan.

He straightened up and opened his bag. ‘Looks worse than it is,’ he said in precise English. ‘He’s a lucky man, though.’

Til leave him with you, then,’ Kane said. Til be back later to see how he is.’

Doctor Hamid nodded impatiently, his mind already on the task before him, and Kane and Jamal left the room.

When they went downstairs, the clerk was back behind his desk, reading a newspaper. Kane went and leaned against the desk and waited.

The man looked over the newspaper and smiled uncertainly. ‘There is something I can do for you, Sahib?’

‘You can tell me where Skiros is,’ Kane said.

The Hindu shrugged. ‘As I have already told you, Sahib, I have not seen Mr Skiros for several days.’

‘Normally I’m a patient man,’ Kane said, ‘but you’ve caught me on an off-night. Either you tell me where Skiros is, or I’ll ask my friend here to break your arm.’

The clerk looked at Jamal and winced. ‘That will not be necessary, Sahib. There is a limit to all things – even loyalty. Mr Skiros was here about an hour ago. He took many papers from his office and a quantity of money from the safe. He told me he was going away for a while, that if anyone asked for him I was to say I knew nothing.’

‘Was Marie Ferret with him?’

The clerk shook his head. ‘He made two telephone calls, that is all.’

Kane glanced across at the switchboard and smiled. ‘And naturally, you listened in to those calls.’

The Hindu shrugged. ‘The first was to Professor Muller. Mr Skiros told him to hurry. He said that everything was arranged.’

‘And the second?’

‘That was to Captain Gonzalez, the Customs Chief. Mr Skiros told him to come round at once and to bring all the money he could lay his hands on.’

‘Did he come?’

‘He arrived twenty minutes later. He was very angry, Sahib, but Mr Skiros threatened him.’

‘About what?’ Kane said.

The clerk shook his head. ‘I am not sure, Sahib. It sounded as if they had been business partners.’

Kane stood there for a moment, a slight frown on his face, and then he nodded to Jamal, who had been standing impassively at his side, crossed the hall quickly, and went out into the street.

As they walked along the waterfront, many things became clear to him. The fact that Skiros had denied all knowledge of Cunningham’s arrival in Dahrein was understandable, but that Gonzalez had missed him was not so easily explained. The Customs Chief was lazy and shirked his duties, but every beggar in town was his spy, and little happened that he didn’t get to hear about.

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