little ominous. Methinks the love affair is over."
This morning, when they arrived at police head, quarters, there was no
reception committee to welcome them. The guard at the private entrance
sent them around to the general charge office, where they were involved
in a long, confused discussion with the desk officer, who had only a
rudimentary knowledge of English. From previous experience in Africa
Nicholas knew better than to lose his temper, or even to let his
irritation show. Finally the desk officer held a long whispered
telephone conversation with some unknown person, at the end of which he
waved them airily towards a hard wooden bench against the far wall.
"You wait. Man come soon." fill For the next forty minutes they shared
their seat with a colourful selection of other supplicants, applicants,
complainants and petty criminals. One or two of them were bleeding
copiously from assault by persons unknown, and yet others were in
manacles.
"It seems our star is on the wane," Nicholas remarked as he held a
handkerchief to his nose. It was obvious that some of his neighbours had
not had a close acquaintance with soap and water for some time. "No more
VIP treatment." At the end of forty minutes Inspector Galla, he who so
deferentially the day before, looked had treated them over the partition
and beckoned to them in a high-handed fashion.
He ignored Nicholas's outstretched right hand and led them through to
one of the back rooms. There he did not offer them a seat but addressed
Nicholas coldly. "You are responsible for the loss of a firearm that was
in your possession."
"That is correct. As I explained to you in my statement yesterday-'
Inspector Galla cut him off. "The loss of a firearm due to negligence is
a very serious offence," he said severely.
"There was no negligence on my part," Nicholas denied.
"You left the firearm unguarded. You made no attempt to lock it in a
steel safe. That is negligence."
"With respect,- Inspector, there is a notable dearth of steel safes in
the Abbay gorge."
"Negligence," Galla repeated. "Criminal negligence.
How are we to know that the weapon has not fallen into the hands of
elements opposed to the government?"
"You mean some unknown person may overthrow the government with a 275
Rigby?"Nicholas smiled.
Inspector Galla ignored the sally, and produced two documents from the
drawer of his desk. "It is my duty to ation orders on both you and Dr Al
serve these deport Simma. You have twenty-four hours to leave Ethiopia,
and thereafter you will be considered to be prohibited immigrants, both
of you."
"Dr Al Simma has not lost any weapons," Nicholas pointed out mildly. "In
fact as far as I am aware, she has never been even mildly negligent in
her entire life." And again his comment was ignored.
"Please sign here to acknowledge that you have received and understood
the orders."
"I would like to speak to General Obeid, the Commissioner of Police,'
said Nicholas.
"General Obeid left this morning for an inspection tour of the northern
frontier districts. He will not return to Addis Ababa for some weeks."
"By which time we will be safely back in England?"
"Exactly." Inspector Galla smiled for the first time, a thin, wintry
smirk. "Please sign here, and.here."
"What happened?" Royan demanded, as the driver opened the door of the
Rolls for her and she settled into the seat beside Nicholas. "It was all
so sudden and unexpected. One moment everybody loved us, and the next we
are being booted down the stairs."
"Do you want my guess?" Nicholas asked, and then went on without waiting
for her reply. "Nogo is not the only one in Pegasus's back pocket.
Overnight Obeid has been in contact with von Schiller, and received his
orders."
"Do you realize what this means, Nicky? It means that we will not be
able to return to Ethiopia. That puts the tomb of Mamose beyond our
grasp." She stared at him with large dark eyes full of dismay.
"When Duraid and I visited Iraq and Libya, neither of us had letters of
invitation from either Saddam or Gadaffi, as I recall."
"You look delighted at the prospect of breaking the law," she accused.
"You are smirking all over your face."
"After all, it is only Ethiopian law," he pointed out virtuously. "Not
to be taken too seriously."
"And it will be an Ethiopian prison they toss you into.
That you can take seriously."
"You too," he grinned, "if they catch us."
You can be certain that HE has already registered a formal complaint
with the President's office," Geoffrey told them as he drove them to the
airport the next day. "He is most upset at the whole business, I can
tell you. Deportation orders and all that rot.
Never heard the likes."
"Don't fuss yourself, old boy," Nicholas told him. "As it is, neither of
us intends coming back here again. No harm done."
"It's the principle of the thing. Prominent British subject being
treated like a common criminal. No respect shown." He sighed. "Sometimes
I wish I had been born a hundred years ago. We wouldn't have to put up
with this sort of nonsense. just send a gunboat."
"Quite so, Geoffrey, but please don't let it upset you." Geoffrey
hovered around them like a cat with kittens while they checked in at the
Kenya Airways counter. They had only their hand luggage, two small cheap
nylon holdalls that they had bought that morning at a street market.
Nicholas had rolled his dik'dik skin into a ball and wrapped it in an
embroidered shamma that he had purchased in the same market.
Geoffrey waited with them until their flight was called and waved to
them after they passed through the barrier, aiming this affectionate
display more at Royan than Nicholas.
They had been allocated seats behind the wing, and Royan was beside the
window. The Kenya Airways plane started its engines and began to taxi
slowly past the airport buildings. Nicholas was arguing with a
stewardess who wanted him to stow his precious dik-dik skin in its
purple nylon bag in the overhead locker, while Royan peered out of the
porthole beside her for her last glimpse of Addis during takeoffs
Suddenly Royan stiffened in her seat, and while still gazing out of the
window reached across and seized Nicholas's arm.
"Look!" she hissed with such venom in her tone that he leaned across her
to see what had excited her.
"Pegasus!" she exclaimed, and pointed to the Falco executive jet that
had just taxied in and parked at the far end of the airport buildings.
The small, sleek aircraft was painted grpen and on its tall tail fill
the scarlet horse reared on its hind legs in that stylized pose. While
they watched through the window, the door in the fuselage of the green I
Falcon was lowered, and a small reception committee waiting on the
tarmac pressed forward expectantly to greet the passengers as they
appeared in the doorway of the jet.
The first of these was a small man, neatly dressed in a cream tropical
suit and a white panama straw hat. Despite his size he exuded an air of
confidence and command, that special aura of power. His face was pale,
as though he had come from a northern winter, and it looked incongruous