She didn't argue and he saw her to the terrace of the hotel. He made arrangements to pick her lip at six-thirty and then walked along the water's edge to the jetty.

Piroo was squatting on a stone, head nodding. He came awake quickly and smiled a welcome, teeth gleaming in the darkness.

As they rowed across to the launch, Kane told him about his trip to Bir el Madani on the following day. 'You'll be in complete charge,' he said as he clambered over the rail and stood on the deck of the launch. 'Keep a sharp look-out for trouble. Particularly from Selim.'

He left Piroo on deck securing the dinghy and went down to his cabin. It was dark and quiet and the moonlight crept in through the porthole and touched him with ghostly fingers.

He lay down on the bunk and stared up at the cabin roof and thought about Marie. For a moment the darkness was touched by her presence and she seemed to smile at him as he drifted into sleep.

EIGHT.

THE FISHING BOATS were slipping out through the harbour entrance towards the Gulf as Kane turned off the jetty and moved along the waterfront. He lit a cigarette, the first of the day, and coughed as the smoke caught at the back of his throat. He felt tired and there was a slight ache behind his right eye. For a moment he paused, watching the fishing boats dip into the Gulf current, white sails shining in the early morning sun, and then he continued towards the hotel.

He was wearing khaki pants and shirt and a battered felt bush hat. On impulse, he had slipped the Colt into his hip pocket before leaving the launch. He had many friends amongst the tribesmen of the Shabwa area, but one could never be too sure.

Ruth Cunningham was standing on the steps of the hotel when he arrived. She was wearing a white blouse, open at the neck, and cream whipcord slacks. Her hair was bound with the same blue scarf she had worn on no that first occasion, and when she smiled she looked extremely attractive.

'Will I do?' she demanded, spreading her arms slightly.

Kane nodded. 'Decorative, but serviceable.' He glanced at his watch. 'We'll have to step on it. I don't want to keep Marie waiting.'

They didn't speak much as they walked through a maze of narrow alleys and emerged on the edge of town. She had dark smudges under her eyes as if she had not slept well, and there was a strained, anxious look to her that he didn't like.

The airstrip was a quarter of a mile outside Dahrein in the opening of a narrow pa.s.s which cut deeply into the mountains. It was not an official stopping place for any of the major airlines and had been constructed as an emergency strip by the Spanish Air Force.

There was one hangar, a crumbling, decrepit building in concrete with a roof of corrugated iron. They could see the plane squatting on the runway from a long way off, a de Havilland Rapide painted scarlet and silver. Its twin engines were already ticking over as they approached.

Jamal was sitting in one of the rear seats and Marie jumped down to the ground and came to meet them. Kane made the introduction and the two women shook hands. in

'It's very kind of you to help in this way,' Ruth Cunningham said.

Marie shrugged. 'It's nothing, Mrs Cunningham. Nothing at all. I'm going up to Bir el Madani on business, anyway.' She turned to Kane, a slight smile on her face and her eyes sparkled. 'I hope you slept well, Gavin. Sorry to rush you, but I promised Jordan I'd be there by seven-thirty.'

Ruth Cunningham climbed into the seat next to Jamal, who stared stolidly ahead and ignored her. Marie slipped into the pilot's seat and then turned enquiringly to Kane. 'Would you like to fly her?'

He nodded and she stepped into the pa.s.senger area, making room for him. He taxied slowly along the ground and turned into the wind. A moment later and the end of the airstrip was rushing to meet them. He pulled the column back slowly and the Rapide lifted into the pa.s.s, rock walls flashing by on either side.

The air was b.u.mpy as they flew out of the pa.s.s, for a forty-knot wind was blowing across the mountains. They climbed through heat haze that already blurred the horizon, and levelled off at six thousand feet to cross the coastal range.

Beyond the mountains the sky was a brilliant sapphire and, within half an hour, the real desert appeared in the distance, its colours varying between burnished gold and deep red.

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Suddenly, they were pa.s.sing over a tall oil derrick surrounded by a group of tents and several vehicles, and then Ruth Cunningham cried excitedly, 'Look, there's a truck down there!'

Kane glanced out of the window and saw a truck moving at high speed in the direction in which they were flying. A little later, a dark splotch appeared in the distance. Within a few minutes it had increased into a clump of green palm trees and a scattered group of flat-roofed houses.

The airstrip was a narrow slot between two dunes, with a windsock on a tall pole at one end. Kane circled once and then turned into the wind for a perfect landing between two rows of empty oil drums. As he taxied to the far end of the airstrip, the truck appeared from among the houses and moved towards them in a cloud of dust.

Kane switched off the engines, opened the door and jumped to the ground. He turned and handed the two women down in turn as the truck braked to a halt a few feet away and a man slid from behind the wheel and came to meet them.

He was young, with a bronzed, reckless face, and his fair hair was closely cropped. He was dressed in sun-bleached khaki and a revolver was slung low on his right hip in a black leather holster.

His teeth flashed in a ready smile and he cried, 'The Devil himself. What brings you up here?'

Kane grinned and punched him on the shoulder. 'I was hoping you might be able to help us, Jordan.' He half-turned and indicated Ruth Cunningham. 'Mrs Cunningham here, is looking for her husband. We know he arrived in Bir el Madani two months ago. He intended to visit Shabwa for a few days. She hasn't heard from him since.'

Jordan took her hand, his face serious. 'I'm sorry to hear that, Mrs Cunningham.' He frowned slightly for a moment or two and then shook his head. 'No, I can't say I've heard of your husband. The headman of the village might be able to help.'

She turned to Kane and he nodded. 'I know the headman here - Omar bin Naser. If he knows anything he'll tell us.'

Jordan led her towards the Ford pick-up truck and handed her in. 'That's settled then. I'll drop you and Mrs Cunningham in the village, Kane. We'll see you sometime this afternoon. Marie and I have a h.e.l.l of a lot to discuss.'

Marie squeezed into the front seat beside Ruth Cunningham, and Kane and Jamal sat in the back under the canvas awning. As they moved away, Kane glanced casually over his shoulder and saw an Arab in faded russet robes and red head-cloth, appear from behind a dune and urge his camel across the airstrip. He slid to the ground and stood by the plane.

Kane tapped Jordan on the shoulder. 'Pull up a minute, will you?'

Jordan halted the truck and they all turned and looked back. The Arab was examining the plane closely and then he looked up and gazed towards them.

Kane scrambled out of the truck. Til see what he wants. It may be just idle curiosity, but you never can tell with Bedouins.'

As he approached the plane, the Arab advanced to meet him, hand resting lightly on the silver hilt of his curved jambiya. Kane halted a few feet away from him and said in Arabic, 'What are you doing here? Are you looking for someone?'

The Arab's face was lined and drawn. The pupils of his eyes were like pinp.r.i.c.ks and his lips were necked with foam. 'I have a letter for one named Kane,' he said in a dead voice.

Kane's hand slid round to the b.u.t.t of the Colt as he spoke. 'I am he. Where is the letter?'

The Arab pulled the jambiya from its sheath and the blade flashed in the hot sunlight. Kane took a quick step back and tried to draw the Colt. The foresight snagged on the lining of his hip pocket and he cursed and ducked under the swinging blade, reaching for the Arab's throat.

For a moment they swayed, locked together, Kane trying to twist the weapon from the man's grasp, and then the Arab lifted his knee viciously.

Kane hung on grimly and they fell to the ground, rolling over and over. He could hardly breathe and yet everything a.s.sumed a sharper definition and he was acutely aware of the stink of the man's unwashed body, of the madness in the staring eyes.

In the distance, a woman screamed and he was conscious of something digging painfully into his right b.u.t.tock. It was the Colt and he wrenched it free from his pocket, rammed the barrel into the Arab's stomach and pulled the trigger twice as thejambiya was raised to strike.

The force of the bullets, fired at such short range, lifted the man backwards. Kane tried to get up, but there was a roaring in his ears. Someone cried his name. He grabbed for the plane's wing, hauling himself erect, and another Arab came into his range of vision, running towards himjambiya raised above his head.

Kane tried to lift the Colt, but his arm seemed to have lost its strength and then Jordan arrived on the scene. The geologist dropped to one knee beside him, rested the barrel of his heavy revolver across his left forearm and fired so fast that four shots sounded like one continuous roll of thunder.

The Arab kept coming right into the line of fire, the bullets thudding solidly into his body and then, when he was almost upon them, he seemed to lurch sideways and fell on to his face.

For several moments there was complete silence and then Kane heard a cry behind him. He turned, still holding onto the wing for support and saw Marie running towards him.

Her face was white and drawn and she clutched his arm. 'Gavin, are you all right?'

He patted her on the hand rea.s.suringly. 'Thanks to Jordan.'