off the butterfly colours of the women's dress'.
Sean paused on the station steps and lit a cigar. At that moment the
sounds of carriage wheels and human voices were drowned by the
plaintive wail of a mine hooter and immediately others joined in
signalling the noon. Automatically Sean reached for his pocket-watch
to check the time, and noticed the same general movement in the crowded
street. He grinned again.
Jo'burg; hasn't changed much-still the old habits, the same feeling
about it. The mine dumps higher than he remembered them, a few new
buildings, a little older and a little smarter but still the same
heartless bitch beneath it all.
And there on the corner of Commissioner Street, ornate as a
wedding-cake with its fancy ironwork and corniced roof, stood Candy's
Hotel.
With rifle and pack slung over each shoulder, Sean pushed his way
through the press on the sidewalk with Saul and Mbejane in his wake.
He reached the hotel and went in through the revolving glass doors.
'Very grand.' He looked about the lobby as he dumped his pack on the
thick pile of the carpet. Crystal chandeliers, velvet curtains roped
with silver, palms and bronze urns, marble tables, fat plush chairs.
'What do you think, Saul. Shall we give this flophouse a try?'
His voice carried across the lobby and stilled the murmuring of polite
conversation.
'Don't talk so loudly,' Saul cautioned.
A general officer in one of the plush chairs hoisted himself and slowly
turned his head to train a monocled stare upon them, while his
aide-de-camp leaned across and whispered,
'Colonials.
Sean winked at him and moved across to the reception desk.
'Good afternoon, sir. ' The clerk regarded them frostily.
'You have reservations for my chief of staff and myself.
'What name Sir? ' 'I'm sorry, I can't answer that question.
We are travelling incognito,' Sean told him seriously, and a helpless
expression appeared on the man's face. Sean dropped his voice to
conspiratory level. 'Have you seen a man come in here carrying a
bomb?'
'No. ' The man's eyes glazed a little. 'No, sir. No, I haven't.
' 'Good. ' Sean appeared relieved. 'In that case we'll take the
Victoria Suite. Have our luggage sent up.
'General Caithness has the Victoria Suite, sir.' The clerk was
becoming desperate.
What?' Sean roared. 'How dare you!'
'I didn't . . . We had no . stuttering the clerk backed away from
him.
Call the owner,' ordered Sean.
'Yes, sir. ' And the clerk disappeared through a door marked
'Private.
'Have you gone mad?' Saul was fidgeting with embarrassment. 'We can't
afford to stay at this place. Let's get out of here. ' Under the
concentrated scrutiny of every guest in the lobby he was very conscious
