“Nothing will go wrong,” the tall one answered. “It is a long ride from the Casbah at Tangiers but we have come here to eliminate the jackals. They will join the one they seek, each one of them. That way we will be rid of them all, and there’ll be no more questions and attempts to find Karminian.”
He turned to Rashid. “You do not argue the wisdom of El Ahmid’s decision, I hope,” the tall one said. “I can tell him of your cooperation?”
“Of course, of course,” Rashid complied quickly. “There is this girl, the dancer, and the artist who seeks Karminian. Then there are the four Russians who also look for him.”
“We will take the whole list from you,” the tall one said. “As you know, those I have brought are specialists in our task.”
The five killers from the Casbah would, I could see, go about their business with ruthless efficiency.
I was wondering how much Rashid actually knew. Obviously, I was on the list. So was Aggie, but he hadn’t mentioned Marina. Perhaps only because he hadn’t gotten around to her yet.
I was just starting to inch my way backward along the narrow beam when it decided to give up. It did so with only a sudden sharp crack as a warning. I only had time to leap forward, seize the crossbar of the lintel and hang there. The beam tore loose at the end and crashed down with the sound of splintering wood.
The Rifs came racing into the dark of the storage room. Hanging on with both hands, I couldn’t reach either Hugo or Wilhelmina.
They were in a cluster just below me, looking at the fallen beam in the cloud of dust. It would be only seconds and they’d turn their faces up and see the figure hanging there.
I did notice that the sixth man in western dress was not among them. He’d taken off, apparently, and I was sure it wasn’t because he was naturally shy.
There wasn’t much choice left to me so I decided to get the advantage of surprise, at least. I let go, dropping straight down atop the small, robed cluster. I felt my feet take out one of them, landing hard on his head. The fall sent me sprawling and tumbling onto the others and I went down in a welter of robes and flying
I rolled over and was on my feet before they’d collected themselves, racing across the lighted room for the door. I just reached it and was tearing through the curtained archway when the first shot rang out, a tremendous, crashing explosion that could only have come from an old, heavy pistol. The bullet slammed into the wall with a crashing thud, but I was on the streets already.
I could hear their excited shouts as they came after me. The small, narrow street was virtually deserted, and the end of it was quite a way down. I’d never make it before they had me in their sights.
I ducked into a small passageway between two of the closed gift shops. A small side door of one didn’t look too sturdy. It wasn’t, and it flew open as I slammed into it with my shoulder. I closed it behind me and moved into the darkness of the small shop.
I could make out brass kettles, a stack of small carpets, leather-covered camel saddles, water-pipes and teapots, kettles, incense burners, pottery and brass trays.
The place was a virtual booby trap. The wrong move was certain to send something crashing. I crept into a corner and rested on one knee. I could hear them outside, the tall one’s voice giving instructions.
I knew enough Berber to catch the most of it. They were going to make a house-to-house search, apparently convinced I hadn’t had time to make it to the end of the long street.
I stayed quietly and waited. It wasn’t a long time before I heard the side door being pushed open. I watched the robed figure move cautiously into the room, the long, curved dagger unsheathed, held in one hand. Any noise, from either of us, would be heard by the others prowling outside. I watched him moving carefully into the little shop, skirting the pottery.
Hugo dropped into the palm of my hand noiselessly, the cold steel blade a comforting touch. I saw a glint that told me the Rif had his long, curved Moorish dagger unsheathed and ready. I drew back my arm and waited. This had to be right. I couldn’t have him falling and crashing into copper trays or knocking over pottery.
I waited until he was slowly moving alongside the thick pile of carpets in the center of the shop. Hugo flashed through the dark, death on wings of tempered steel. I saw the Rif clutch at his chest, stagger backward and topple over onto the soft stack of carpets, noiselessly. I was beside him in an instant but there would be no final cry from him.
Quickly, I pulled off his
I passed two of the Rifs as they emerged from one of the shops.
They shot me a quick glance and hurried on to the next shop.
