left hand.
The silence drew out until Sally-Anne had to ask, 'Well?' Peter Fungabera dropped his gaze to her face again.
'You have chosen the hottest coal in the fire for me to pick up in my bare hands,' he said. 'Are you sure that you have not been influenced by Comrade Zebiwe's treatment of Mr. Craig Mellow?'
'That is unworthy,' Sally-Anne told him softly.
'Yes, I suppose it is.' Peter Fungabera looked at Craig.
'What do you think?'
'He was my friend, and he has done me great kindness.'
'That was once upon a time,' Peter pointed out. 'Now he has declared himself your enemy.'
'Still I like and admire him.'
'And yet-?' Peter prodded gently.
'And yet, I believe Sally-Anne may be on the right spoor' Craig conceded unhappily.
Peter Fungabera stood up and crossed the floor silently to stand before the vast wall-map.
'Me whole country is a under-box,' he said, staring at the coloured flags. 'The Matabele are on the point of a rebellion. Here! Here! Here! Their guerrillas are gathering in the bush.' He tapped the map. 'We have been forced to nip the plotting of their more irresponsible leaders who were moving towards armed revolt. Nkomo is in forced retirement, two of the Matabele Cabinet members have been arrested and charged with high treason. Tungata Zebiwe is the only Matabele still in the Cabinet. He commands enormous respect, even outside his own tribe, while the Matabele look upon him as their only remaining leader. If we were to touch him-2
'You are going to let him go!' Sally-Anne said hopelessly. 'He will get away with it. So much for your socialist paradise. One law for the people, another for the-'
'Be silent, woman,' Peter Fungabera ordered, and she obeyed.
He returned to his desk. 'I was explaining to you the consequences of hasty action. Arresting Tungata Zebiwe could plunge the entire country into bloody civil war. I didn't say that I would not take action, but I certainly would do nothing without proof positive, and the testimony of independent witnesses of impeccable impartiality to support my actions.' He was still staring at the map across the room. 'Already the world accuses us of planning tribal genocide against the Matabele, while all we are doing is maintaining the rule of law, and searching for a formula of accommodation with that warlike, intractable tribe. At the moment Tungata Zebiwe is our only reasonable and conciliatory contact with the Matabele, we cannot afford to destroy him lightly.' He paused, and Sally Anne broke her silence.
'One thing I have not mentioned, but which Craig and I have discussed. If Tungata Zebiwe is the poacher, then he is using the profits to some special end. He gives no visible evidence of extravagance, but we know there is a connection between him and dissidents.' Peter Fungabera's expression had set hard, and his eyes were terrible. 'If it's ZeNwel I'll have him he promised himself more than h&. 'But when I do, I'll have proof for the world to see and he will not escape me.'
'Then you had best move pretty damned quickly,' Sally Anne advised him tartly.
t23 r ell, you've picked a good time to sell.' The Tyacht,broker stood in Bawu's cockpit and ! looked nautical in his double-breasted blazer and marine cap with golden anchor device seven hundred dollars from Bergdorf Goodman. His tan was even and perfect sunlamp at the N.Y. Athletic Club. There was a fine web of wrinkles around his piercing blue eyes not from squinting through a sextant nor from tropical suns on far oceans and coral beaches, Craig was certain, but from perusing price-tags and cheque figures.
'Interest rates right down people are buying yachts again.
It was like discussing the terms of a divorce with a lawyer, or the arrangements with a funeral director. Bawu had been part of his life for too long.
'She is in good nick, all tight and shipshape, and your price is sensible. I'll bring some people to see her tomorrow 'Just make sure I'm not here, 'Craig warned him.
J understand, Mr. Mellow.' The man could even sound like an undertaker.
she Levy also sounded like an undertaker when Craig telephoned. However, he sent an office messenger down to the marina to collect the first three chapters Craig had completed in Africa. Then Craig went to lunch with Henry Pickering.
'It really is good to see you.' Craig had forgotten how much he had grown to like this man in just two short meetings.
'Let's order first,' Henry suggested, and decided on a bottle of the Grands Ech6zeaux.
'Courageous fellow,' Craig smiled. 'I am always too afraid to pronounce it in case they think I am having a sneezing fit.'
'Most people have the same reluctance. Must be why it is the least known of the world's truly great wines keeps the price down, thank God.' Appreciatively they nosed the wine and gave it the attention it deserved. Then Henry set his glass down.
'Now tell me what you think of General Peter Fungo, hera,' he invited.
'It's all in my reports. Didn't you read them?'
'I read them, but tell me just the same. Sometimes a little thing may come out in conversation that just didn't get into a report.'
'Peter Fungabera is a cultivated man. His English is remarkable his choice of words, his power of expression but it all has a strong African accent. In uniform he looks likea general officer in the British army. In casual clothes he looks like the star of a T! series, but in a loin-cloth he looks what he really is, an African. That's what we tend to forget with all of them. We all know about Chinese inscrutability, and British phlegm, but we seldom consider that the black African has a special nature 'There! Henry Pickering murmured smugly. 'That wasn't in your reports. Go on, Craig.'
'We think them sloxy'-moving by our own bustling standards, and we do not realize that it is not indolence but the deep consideration they bring to any subject before acting. We consider them simple and direct when really they are the most secretive and convoluted of people, more tribally clannish than any Scot. They can maintain a blood feud over a hundred years, like any Sicilian-' Henry Pickering listened intently, prodding him with a leading question only when he slowed. Once he asked, 'Something that I still find a little confusing, Craig the subtle difference between the term Matabele, Ndebele and Sindebele. Can you explain?'
'A
Frenchman calls himself a Francais, but we call him a Frenchman. A Matabele calls himself an Ndebele, but we call him a Matabele.'
'Ah' Henry nodded, 'and the language he speaks is Sindebele, isn't itr 'That's right. Actually the word Matabele seems to have acquired colonial connections since independence ' Their talk ranged on easily, relaxed and free-flowing, so that it was with a start of surprise that Craig realized that they were almost the last party left in the restaurant and that the waiter was hovering with the bill.
'What I was trying to say,' Craig concluded, 'is that colonialism has left Africa with a set of superimposed values. Africa will reject them and go back to its own.'
'And probably be the happier for it,' Henry Pickering finished for him. 'Well, Craig, you have certainly earned your wage. I'm truly pleased that you are going back. I can see that you will soon be our most productive field agent in that theatre. When do you return?'
'I only came to New York to pick up a cheque.' Henry Pickering laughed that delightful purring laugh of his. 'You hint with a sledgehammer I shudder at the ect of a direct demand from you.' He paid the bill prosp and stood up. 'Our house lawyer is waiting. First you sign away your body and soul and then I give you drawing rights up to the total of five million dollars.' The interior of the limousine was silent and cool, and the suspension ironed out most of the trauma of the New York street surfaces.
'Now enlarge on Sally-Anne Jay's conclusions regarding the head of the poaching ring,' Henry invited.
'At this stage, I don't see any alternative candidate for the master poacher, perhaps even the leader of the dissidents.' Henry was silent for a moment. Then he said, 'What do you make of General Fungabera's reluctance to act?'
'He is a prudent man, and an African. He will not rush in. He will think it out deeply, lay his net with care, but when he does act, I think we will all be surprised at how devastatingly swift and decisive it will be.'
'I would like you to give General Fungabera. all the assistance you can. Full co-operation, please, Craig.'
'You know Tungata was my friend.'
'Divided loyalty?'
'I
don't think so, not if he is guilty.'
'Good! My board is very happy with your achievements so far. I am authorized to increase your remuneration to sixty thousand dollars per annum.'
'Lovely,' Craig grinned at him. 'That will be a big help on the interest payment on five million dollars.' t was still light when the cab dropped Craig at the gates of the marina'. The smog of Manhattan was transformed by the low angle of the sun to a lovely purple mist which softened the grim silhouettes of the great towers of concrete.
As Craig stepped on the gangplank, the yacht dipped slightly under his weig4', and alerted the figure in the cockpit.
'Ashe! Craig was taken by surprise. 'Ashe Levy, the fairy princess of
