Sheba. Part 13

He took out the typed translation of the ma.n.u.script and started to read. It was an absorbing story, and he read steadily for an hour until he had finished it. For a little while he lay staring at the roof of the cabin and thinking about Alexias. A well-defined personality had emerged from the pages to stand before him. It was that of a brave and aggressive, physically tough man, highly intelligent and a natural leader.

There had been a touch of the dreamer in him also. Kane reread the portion of the ma.n.u.script in which Alexias described his feelings on first setting out into the desert in search of the temple. The man's character emerged strongly in the light of his own words. A born adventurer, always restless, always gazing beyond the next hill, always searching for something and never finding it.

Had he been looking for Sheba's Temple or had he really been searching for something else. His own true self, perhaps? The self that most men went through life without ever meeting. He turned to the last page of the ma.n.u.script and read again the final sentence.

'... So, /, Alexias, Senior Centurion of the Tenth Legion, Commander at Beer-Sheba, end this account. Lest other men should be tempted to follow the seven pillars to Sheba's Temple, a word of warning. For my poor comrades those seven pillars led only to death.'

Kane stared up at the roof, watching the dust dancing in the sunshine that streamed through the porthole above his head, and thought about the Greek's words. There was an Ethiopian proverb that said something about the road to h.e.l.l being marked by seven pillars, and the Ethiopians had conquered Southern Arabia for a while. For a brief moment, he wondered whether there could possibly be a connection, but dismissed the notion as improbable. The Ethiopian conquest had come much later. He was still thinking about it as he drifted into sleep.

He came awake suddenly and lay staring into the darkness. Some special sense, deep in his subconscious, had sounded an alarm and he lay on the bunk, fingers curled tightly, wary as any animal that knows the hunter is near.

He became aware of the smell first - stale and faintly rancid. Olive oil or perhaps a grease of some sort. And then he heard the breathing and there was a faint curse as someone stumbled against the table. He waited, hardly daring to breathe, and stared up through half-closed eyelids at the bright beam of moonlight which streamed in through the porthole.

And then the breathing was very close and he saw the upraised knife gleam in the moonlight. He twisted and lifted his knee sideways. It connected with his a.s.sailant's stomach and there was a subdued grunt. His right hand fastened about the man's wrist and he twisted sharply. There was a cry and the knife fell to the floor.

Kane scrambled from the bunk, hands reaching for his a.s.sa.s.sin's body, but the man's torso was slippery with oil and Kane's hands failed to secure a grip. The man twisted like an eel and dashed for the entrance. As he came out on deck, Piroo jumped to bar his way. There was a grunt of pain from the little Hindu as their bodies collided, and the killer ducked under his arm and dived over the rail.

Kane stood listening intently, but could hear no sound. He turned slowly. 'Are you all right?'

The little Hindu was almost weeping. 'Sahib, I am shamed. This man boarded the launch and almost killed you while I slept.'

Kane patted him on the shoulder. 'Don't be d.a.m.ned silly. He was probably a professional. They're the only ones who oil their bodies before going on a job. Don't worry about it. Get the dinghy ready and we'll pay a call on our friend Selim.'

He went below and dressed quickly, and when he came back on deck, he was carrying the Colt automatic in his jacket pocket. It was time someone cut Selim down to size, he decided, as they crossed the harbour and rowed between the fishing boats towards the Farah.

The dinghy b.u.mped against the side of the great dhow and he told Piroo to wait, mounted a rope ladder quickly, and climbed over the rail. The deck was deserted. Underneath the stern-deck, a door opened into the captain's cabin and he approached cautiously. For a moment he hesitated outside, listening, and then he kicked open the door and went in, the Colt ready in his right hand.

Two Arabs were sitting cross-legged on cushions beside a low table which contained a coffee-pot and several tiny cups. They glanced up in alarm and he held the gun steady on them.

'Where is Selim?' he demanded in Arabic.

One of them shrugged. 'He left this afternoon. I think he went up-country to visit friends.'

For a moment Kane gazed at them suspiciously. As he lowered the Colt and started to move away, he became aware of a familiar odour. It was the stale, rancid smell of olive oil.

He turned slowly and faced the men. 'Take off your robes!' They looked at each other in alarm and the one who had spoken, started to protest. Kane moved forward quickly, a savage look on his face. 'Do as I say.'

The one who had done the talking shrugged and started to remove his outer garments, but the other suddenly made a break for the door. Kane stretched out a foot and tripped him, and as the man scrambled to his feet, hit him across the face with the barrel of the Colt. The heavy foresight slashed open the man's cheek and he slid to the deck, moaning.

Kane slipped the Colt into his pocket and walked to the door. He turned and said calmly to the other man, 'Tell Selim he'll get out of Dahrein if he knows what's good for him,'

He closed the door behind him, crossed the deck and dropped down into the dinghy. 'Is everything settled, Sahib?' Piroo said.

Kane nodded. 'I think you might say that. You can take me to the jetty now. I'm going into town.'

He stood on the jetty and listened to the sound of the dinghy disappearing into the darkness as the Hindu rowed away and then he turned and walked along the waterfront to the hotel and his appointment with Ruth Cunningham.

SEVEN.

THE HOTEL WAS ABLAZE with lights, and the foyer was crowded with people. Kane pushed his way through to the entrance of the casino. Skiros was sitting at a table by the window. His eyes, moving rapidly from table to table, gleamed with satisfaction as the dealers raked the chips across the green baize covers. When he saw Kane, a smile appeared on his face and he waved. Kane nodded briefly and turned away.

The bar was doing a brisk trade and Romero, Noval and Conde, the Catalina crew, were sitting there in flying jackets. Romero waved and Kane joined them.

'Run any good cargos lately?' Romero asked.

'The pot calling the kettle black,' Kane said. 'Guptas told me he saw you and some Portuguese freighter offloading thirty miles out.'

Romero smiled. 'We all need to make a living, amigo.'

'Take care,' Kane said. 'If he saw you, so could someone else.'

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He walked away. Noval said. 'He's right.' Romero shrugged. 'No problem. A few more days and it will all be over. Let's have another drink.'

The corridor was quiet, and the noise from below sounded curiously muted and unreal as if it came from another world. A light showed through the transom window above her door and he knocked softly and waited. It was opened almost immediately and she looked out.

She was wearing a brocaded house-coat in heavy silk, tied with a crimson sash at the waist. Her hair hung loosely to her shoulders, and her face was pale and drawn as if she had slept badly. She smiled and stood to one side and he went in.

She closed the door and leaned against it, her eyes gazing into his searchingly. After a few moments she sighed. 'You haven't got any news for me, have you?'

For a fraction of a second he hesitated and then he shrugged, 'I'm afraid not.'

She moved across to a wicker chair by the window and there was an edge of desperation in her face. 'Surely you've managed to find out something? This is a small town. Somebody must have known him.'

Kane shrugged. 'That's the peculiar thing about the whole business. n.o.body seems to have heard of your husband. I finally had a talk with the Customs Chief here. He swears your husband hasn't disembarked in Dahrein during the past two months.'

'But that's impossible,' she said. 'We know he has.'

Kane shook his head. 'We know he intended to come here. We know he got on the boat at Aden. He may have gone on to another port - Mukalla, for instance.'

'Do you think that's possible?'

He shrugged. 'Anything's possible. On the other hand I'm still not convinced your husband didn't land in Dahrein. Captain Gonzalez is inclined to skimp his duties. If he meets half the boats that come in here he's doing well, but he won't admit it.'

She looked up at him eagerly, 'Then you think my husband may have landed here after all?'

Kane nodded. 'If he landed and went straight up-country the same day, it would explain why no one has heard of him.'

An expression of relief appeared in her eyes and she relaxed against the cushions. 'I'm sure that's what must have happened.' She smiled wanly. 'What's the next move?'

He went across to the window and looked down into the crowded street. 'There's one more person left to see,' he said. 'Marie Ferret.'

Ruth Cunningham looked up at him in surprise. 'A woman? But how can she help?'

Kane smiled. 'No ordinary woman, I can a.s.sure you.