'Nobody knows where it is,' said Byrne. 'I told you – the desert hides things. Hell, you could hide an air fleet in three million square miles.' He drank some beer. 'Not that I wouldn't be interested in it if someone found it.'
'You wouldn't be looking for it?' asked Kissack.
'Why in hell would I be doing that? I've better things to do with my time. When that airplane is found it'll be in a goddamn nasty part of the desert, else it would have shown up by now. I've better things to do than risk my neck like that.'
Kissack put his hand to his breast pocket. From it he extracted a piece of paper which he unfolded and laid on the table. It was one of Byrne's leaflets. 'I'm unable to read this myself but Bailly translated it for me,' he said, 'I found it remarkably interesting.'
'Yeah, I suppose a reporter might.'
'And you still say you're not looking for that aeroplane?'
'Not specifically – no.' Byrne pointed to the leaflet. 'That's something I distribute every three-four years – more in hope than anything else. I told you, I was a flier during the war. Flying in North Africa, too. I'm interested in desert airplanes, especially since I put one there myself. Might write a book about them.'
'A scholarly monograph, no doubt,' said Kissack sarcastically. 'Some Aspects of Air Disasters in the Sahara.'
'I know it sounds nutty,' said Byrne. 'But it's my hobby. Most folks' hobbies seem nutty to someone or other. Ever thought how crazy stamp collecting is?'
'Expensive, too,' said Kissack. 'Ten camels must be worth a lot of money.'
'Might seem so to you' Byrne shrugged. 'I breed them.' He grinned at Kissack. 'Get them at cost price, as you might say. And it ain't much, spread over three or four years.'
Kissack wore a baffled look. The yarn Byrne was spinning was just mad enough to be true. He took a deep breath, and said, 'The man I'm looking for is Paul Billson.'
'Paul Billson.' Byrne tasted the word along with some beer. 'Paul Billson.' he shook his head. 'Can't say I've heard of him. Any relation?'
1 don't know,' said Kissack flatly. He prodded the leaflet with his forefinger. 'Get any results from that?'
'Not so far. Just the same goddamn list I got last time I put it out'
Kissack looked at him for a long time wordlessly. Byrne stirred, and said, 'Anything more you'd like to know?'
'Not for the moment,' said Kissack.
Byrne stood up. 'Well, you know where to find me again if you want me. Up near Timia. Nice to have visited with you, Mr Kissack. Hope I've been of help.' He nodded pleasantly to Bailly. 'Bonjour, M'sieur Bailly.'
Bailly grunted.
As we drove away from the hotel I said, 'Well, now we know.'
'Yeah,' said Byrne laconically. After a while he said, That guy gives me a real creepy feeling.'
'Why should he be looking for Paul? He must have written him off as dead.'
'It must have come as a hell of a shock to him,' said Byrne. 'He knocks off Paul, then the whole goddamn Sahara is flooded with questionnaires about crashed airplanes – and coming from Niger, for God's sake! He must have been a confused boy.'
'But he was quick off the mark.' I thought about it. 'Good thing we didn't bring Paul into town.' I laughed. That was a crazy yarn you spun him.'
'It won't hold him long,' said Byrne. 'He'll ask around and find I've never done a damnfool thing like that before. I'm hoping he'll go up to Timia – that'll give us some space between us. If he wastes his time on Timia we'll be the other side of Bilma before he finds out he's lost us.'
We drove east out of Agadez for about five miles, then left the track to rendezvous with Hamiada at the place appointed. Hamiada had already made camp and had a tent erected. We stayed there the night and slept early in preparation for an early start to cross the Tenere. Next morning I gave Billson the jeans and shirts I had bought 'You can't wander around the Sahara in a business suit,' I said. 'You'd better wear these. I think they'll fit.'
He rejected them and I said, 'Paul, you're a damned fool! Kissack, back there, has your description and he knows what you're wearing.' I shrugged. 'But please yourself.'
Paul changed his clothing fast.
I noticed that Hamiada had cut a lot of acacia branches which he tied in bundles and put in the back of the truck. When I asked Byrne about this he said, 'If we want hot food we have to have fuel.' He nodded towards the east 'There's nothing out there.'
Hamiada left, taking the camels and going back to Timia. We went in the opposite direction, at first due east, and then curving to the north-east. For the first fifty miles it wasn't too bad; the track was reasonably good and we were able to hold an average speed of about thirty miles an hour. But then the track petered out and we were on rough ground which gradually gave way to drifts of sand, and finally, the sand dunes themselves.
'So this is what you call an erg,' I said.
