to move as quickly as you can.' He pressed a button on his desk and the doors opened. The four waiting Zulus came in.
'Please go with these men,' Kahlenberg continued. 'There is an old African saying which you will all do well to remember. It is that the vulture is a patient bird. Personally I would prefer a vulture to one of my Zulus. Good night.'
Back in the guest suite and when Fennel closed the door, Garry said, 'He's a pathological case. I had a feeling about him the moment I saw him. Do you think he's bluffing about the Zulus?'
'No.' Gaye suppressed a shiver. 'He is a sadistic pervert. That expression on his face when he let the mask drop! Let's go now, Garry. They think the terrace doors are locked. We might gain seven hours if we leave at once.'
Garry went to the terrace doors and opened them. He paused, then stepped back, closing the doors.
'They are out there already . . . waiting.'
Gaye joined him and peered through the glass. She could see a half-circle of squatting Zulus, facing her: the moonlight glittered on their spears, their ostrich plumes moved in the slight breeze. Feeling frightened, she moved away from the doors and sat down.
'What are we going to do, Garry?'
'Are you any good on a mountain?' Garry asked, coming to sit by her side.
'I don't think so. . . . I've never tried.'
'You can cut the mountains out,' Fennel said, wiping his face with the back of his arm. 'I've no head for heights.'
'We'll have to consult Ken. We have to start north to pick Themba up. Without him, we're not going to get out.'
'That's right,' Fennel said. 'Ken says that the guy has a compass in his head. He'll get us out.'
'Let's have a drink.' Garry got to his feet and went over to the bar. 'What will you have, Gaye?'
'Nothing at this hour.'
'Lew?'
'Scotch.'
As Garry mixed the drinks, he asked, 'Has Ken got the Springfield with him?'
'No. We left it with Themba.'
'We could need it.'
'Yeah. We'll pick up Ken, and then go straight to where we left Themba. He's not only got the rifle, but extra water and most of the food. If we have to walk all the goddamn way, we could be at it for three or even four days.'
Garry saw Gaye was examining the ring through the glass of the box. He joined her and peered over her shoulder.
'Take it out and wear it,' he said. 'That box is awkward to carry and could get smashed. The ring will be a lot safer on your hand than in the box.'
'If anyone's going to wear it, it'll be me,' Fennel said, putting down his drink.
'She's wearing it,' Garry said quietly. 'I trust her, but I can't say I trust you.'
Fennel glared at him, but Garry's steady stare made him hesitate. Finally, he sat down with bad grace and picking up his glass, he drained it. Okay, you sonofabith, he thought. I'll fix you,
when I fix her.
Gaye took the ring out of the box.
'The diamonds are lovely, but the ring isn't very beautiful, is it?' She tried the ring on the third finger of her right hand, but found it much too loose. 'Of course, I was forgetting . . . it's a man's ring.' She slid it on her thumb. 'This is all right. It's a little awkward, but it won't come off.'
Garry looked at his watch. The time was 02.00 hrs.
'Go and lie down, Gaye. I'm going to my room. We want all the rest we can get. We don't know when we'll get our next sleep.'
He watched her go to her room, then he went to his, ignoring Fennel.
Fennel stretched out on the settee. He knew he wouldn't sleep. All his desire and frustration came back to
