Read Online Sheba by Jack Higgins - Free Book Online

inside.
     
     
There were several suitcases standing in one corner of the bare room and she went across and opened the top one. After a moment's search she came back, a bulky envelope in one hand. 'This is the translation of the manuscript,' she said. 'I think you'll find it rather interesting.'
     
     
He slipped it into his pocket and smiled. Til see you this evening around seven for a drink. I may have some news for you.'
     
     
She smiled. Til be waiting. I think I'll try and get some sleep in the meantime.'
     
     
For a moment he matched her smile with his own and then he gently closed the door.
     
     

SIX
     
HE MOVED ALONG the corridor and as he reached the head of the stairs a door clicked open behind him. A voice said, 'So you and Mrs Cunningham got together sooner than you had intended?'
     
     
Skiros was standing in the doorway of his private room, a cheroot clamped firmly between his teeth, a faint smile on his face.
     
     
Kane nodded slowly. 'I thought I'd better find out what she was after.'
     
     
The Greek removed his cheroot and groaned. 'Mother of Christ, but it's hot. How about joining me in a drink?'
     
     
For a moment Kane was about to refuse and then he changed his mind. Very little happened in Dahrein that Skiros didn't know about. He nodded and moved forward. 'Come to think of it I could use one, if you make it long and cool.'
     
     
Skiros turned back into the room, wiping his face with his handkerchief. He sagged down into a large wicker chair by the window and gestured towards a table on which stood several bottles and a pitcher of ice-water. 'You mix the drinks, my friend,' he said. 'I haven't enough energy to lift the bottle.'
     
     
Kane closed the door and went over to the table. He quickly mixed two large gin-slings and handed one to the Greek. Skiros swallowed half of it and grunted. 'Christ, that was good. At the beginning of each year I tell myself it will be my last in this accursed hole. I swear on the grave of my mother that I will go home to Greece, but...' He sighed deeply and shrugged his shoulders.
     
     
'Why don't you?' Kane said.
     
     
Skiros grinned, exposing a row of decaying teeth. 'Because I am greedy. Because I can make so much money so very easily here.' He sipped some more of his drink and went on. 'But I might ask you the same thing. What can be the attraction of a place like Dahrein for a man like you?' He grinned and his eyes sparkled. 'Could it be the admirable Mademoiselle Ferret?'
     
     
Kane shrugged calmly. 'Women mean nothing to me, Skiros. I'm in Dahrein for the same reason you are. I can make money here - very easily and tax-free. There aren't many places left where one can do that these days.'
     
     
Skiros chuckled. 'And avoid Europe, the war.'
     
     
'You think it will come?' Kane asked.
     
     
'Of course. Everything Hitler wanted he's got. Why should Poland be different?'
     
     
'Not my affair,' Kane said.
     
     
'Nor mine.' Skiros drained his glass. 'And what of the beautiful Mrs Cunningham? It isn't every day we get so charming a visitor in Dahrein.'
     
     
Kane helped himself to a cigarette from an ivory box on the table. 'Didn't she tell you why she's here?'
     
     
Skiros shook his head. 'She came straight to the hotel from the boat. After she'd booked in she asked for you at once. She didn't give a reason. I assumed at first that you must be old friends. To be frank, I thought that perhaps your past was catching up on you.'
     
     
Kane walked across to the window. He stood looking out over the harbour and spoke without turning round. 'She's looking for her husband. Apparently he ran out on her. The last she heard, he was making for here.'
     
     
Skiros grunted in surprise. 'But why would he come here?'
     
     
Kane turned to face him and shrugged. 'He's a lecturer in archaeology at one of the English universities. Apparently he wanted to visit the ruins at Shabwa.'
     
     
Skiros frowned. 'But only that crazy American, Jordan,