It was always a relief when everyone turned in for the night. That was when I got to stroll the grounds alone in the darkness, looking back to the lights of the town, and breathing in the heady scent of the night flowers. Sometimes I'd leave the security of the hotel, and just walk the cobblestone streets of the town for a while, enjoying the solitude. Taberda, I decided, was at its best at night, when the tourists departed, leaving the streets to the cats, who flitted like tiny ghosts through the jasmine-scented air.
My enjoyment was spoiled the evening of my interview with Kristi, though, by the sight of Rick slipping through one of the hotel gates--not the one with the guard on it--and heading down the hill. I couldn't help but wonder what he was up to this late at night. Worried, I followed him at a distance, staying away from the streetlights, which was a good idea, because about halfway down the hill he met Curtis Clark. I was surprised to see the two men together, as they'd had virtually nothing to do with each other until this moment. The pair continued down the main street to the lower town, past the shops, now boarded up until the morning, and the little white houses, some with slivers of light still showing through the shutters. At the traffic circle at the bottom, where only a few stragglers were still sitting in the cafés, they turned left along another residential street, then right, onto a steep and rough path that led down to the harbor. I stayed back in the shadows, far enough behind them that they couldn't see me, but not so far that I lost them.
The path was really treacherous for someone unfamiliar with it--steep, and the stones that made up the surface were rough and uneven. It was also apparent, from the billing and cooing, and the occasional louder and more passionate yelp, that we were in the local version of a lovers' lane.
The moon was full that night, which was the only thing that kept me from breaking my ankle, I am certain, but it also meant that if either man turned around, they would probably see me. It was hard going, trying to negotiate the path in the moonlight, and at the same time keep a watchful eye on the two men ahead of me. At one point the path curved around, and I lost sight of them. I quickened my pace, and then unintentionally almost caught up to them where they stopped in the middle of the path.
I edged forward as quietly as I could to try to hear what they were saying, sticking to the shadows at the side of the road. At first, I could catch only the murmur of their low voices, not actual words. Curtis sounded angry, Rick almost frightened, gibbering something to the effect that it wasn't his fault. I moved closer.
"I told you to take care of it, you incompetent little twit," Curtis said.
Rick muttered something that sounded like "I promise you we'll get it," although I couldn't swear to it. His back was to me, and his words got swallowed in the breeze from the sea.
"Go back to the hotel," Curtis said quite clearly. "If you're not capable of it, then I am." Rick, after a word or two of protest, turned abruptly away from his companion and started back up the hill. I flung myself hurriedly into the brush at the side of the road, stumbling, as I did so, upon a couple in, shall we say, the throes of ecstasy. The man in question, though startled no doubt, managed to hurl a string of epithets in my general direction--I do not know Arabic, but I am reasonably sure the word pervert must have been among them--as I moved past the couple to hide behind a tree. Rick, silhouetted against the moonlight, stopped for a moment and peered into the darkness, but, apparently satisfied it was only lovers, and presumably not knowing Arabic either, he moved on. I heard his footsteps, dragging a little as if he were a defeated man, recede into the distance up the hill. I stayed behind the tree, and the couple, now nervous at my presence, pulled themselves together and slunk away. I counted on the fact that they wouldn't want anyone to know they were there, and therefore wouldn't sound the alarm.
I waited for several minutes, expecting to see Curtis also move past my position, but he didn't. I certainly didn't want to be seen there by either man. My appearance in this part of town at this time of night would require an explanation that even my vivid imagination would have trouble inventing. I wondered whether there might be another route back to the hotel by going downhill, and decided there was, but not on foot, since it involved climbing up the very long and steep cliff below the hotel and the town. I would have to chance finding a yellow taxi on the harbor road, and I couldn't imagine there'd be too many of them down by the waterfront at this time of night.
Finally, after deciding that I couldn't wait all night, I stepped out onto the path, listening for footsteps below me as I did so, and was startled instead by the clatter of tiny pebbles coming down the hill toward me. Afraid that it was Rick coming back, I tried to plunge back into the shadows quickly, but twisted my ankle in the attempt. Despite my efforts to be quiet, I gasped out loud. There was a sliding sound, as if someone higher up on the path had lost their footing for a second on the slippery slope. I held my breath and listened carefully. I had a sense that whoever was up there was doing the same. In a moment or two, to my relief, I heard footsteps retreating back up the hill.
I sat on the side of the path for a few moments, until the throbbing in my ankle subsided to manageable proportions, and then hobbled as quickly as I could uphill. Several yards above my original position, about where I would have assumed the mystery walker had stopped, the moonlight caught a shiny strip of something on the path. I leaned over and picked up Kristi Ellingham's notebook. I recognized it immediately, one of those leatherbound, six-ring diaries, this one with protective metal corners that had caught the moonlight and my attention. It seemed obvious to me that it must have been Kristi on the hill above me. She would have dropped the notebook when she slipped. I stuck the book in my handbag and made my way slowly and carefully back to the hotel, hoping the bar was still open so I could get some ice for my ankle.
The bartender was beginning to close up and the lounge was almost empty when I came in, trying not to limp. There was no sign of Curtis, nor of Kristi, but Rick was there, the remains of a large drink in front of him, and another one coming his way. He was having a nightcap with Briars Hatley and another man I didn't know. The three men were engaged in a rather heated discussion and did not hear me approach until the last moment, when the conversation abruptly stopped. "Just stay away," I heard Briars say. "I'm warning you."
"Don't you threaten me. I've had enough," Rick replied. "You . . ." They all stopped at my approach. The stranger, a young man with dark hair and eyes, looked at me briefly, and then turned away.
I put on my most innocent face and smiled sweetly. "Good evening, gentlemen," I said. "I've just come for some ice. We'll see you tomorrow morning, breakfast at seven-thirty sharp. We have a big day out on Cap Bon tomorrow." They looked at me suspiciously, no doubt wondering what I'd heard, but I gave no indication I had heard anything at all. I was not introduced to the young man.
What was going on here? I huffed to myself. What could all these men possibly be going on about? Taking care of something, and staying away, and heaven knows what else. What was Briars doing threatening one of our guests? This was an antiques and archaeology tour, for God's sake, and he was the archaeologist! Was I going to have to say something to him about this? I gingerly mounted the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing to spare my ankle, as Briars and the stranger both left the bar and disappeared into the night. Rick remained, and drained his drink. I expected he'd be prevailing on the barman to get him another before closing. Back in my room, I threw Kristi's notebook on the night table--a quick peek at the first page confirmed that it was hers, although there had been little doubt in my mind--iced my ankle, and got ready for bed, fuming.