Our group had taken over the main terrace of the restaurant, the establishment having set up a temporary stage at one end. On the terrace above, several diners had moved over to the wall to take in the festivities. The lights went out for a moment, and then came on again to reveal a group of musicians dressed in red and gold who accompanied two singers, a man and a woman. The music began, performed on the Arab lute; the rabab, a two-stringed fiddle played with a bow; and a zither, along with two or three different drums. For many in our little group it was something of an acquired taste. I could tell. Still, it was exotic, and they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Aziza looked pale, but Curtis had convinced her to come along, and the music seemed to cheer her up.
The show took a different turn a few minutes later as the belly dancers appeared, and the pace picked up. Soon Tariq was calling for volunteers, and Betty, Susie, Chastity, and Ben were up on the stage being taught how to belly dance. Jimmy covered his eyes as Betty, all pink and excited, took her turn at wrapping herself in a veil and gyrating about.
"The things people will do when they're on vacation," Jimmy said. "And when they've had a couple of drinks," he added.
He might well have been talking specifically about Ben. There he was up on the stage trying to get his rather sizable belly to rotate, to everyone's amusement. He was a good sport, there was no question about that, a man of rather Olympian appetite who didn't much care what people thought of him. In many ways I found it rather refreshing.
Susie, too, seemed to have recovered her sunny disposition and got right into the swing of things. The red and blue veils she was given clashed spectacularly with her lime-green pant suit, and she just couldn't get the hang of it, but she was clearly having fun, and the group clapped and cheered her efforts.
The only one up there who was any good at it was Chastity. The girl who just a few days earlier had been knocking people flat with her backpack was becoming quite the little seductress. She was wearing a halter top and low-cut white jeans, and with a little maneuvering on her part, her belly button was much in evidence. At the end, the instructor presented her with the prize, a silk scarf, as Chastity blew kisses to the audience, specifically at Emile.
"For our next act," Tariq said, as Ben, Betty, Susie, and Chastity came back to their places to great cheers from the rest of the group, "we once again need a volunteer, a gentleman please."
"I'd like to try it," Cliff said, rising from his seat. "If Ben can do it, so can I."
"Don't be silly, Cliff," Nora said. "You know exertion is bad for you. Please sit down."
"Yes, Nora," he said meekly, sinking back into his chair.
I leaned over to Jamila. "I wonder what kind of heart condition he has. Don't they usually recommend exercise for people with heart problems? Moderate exercise, anyway? He was certainly active and strong when he and Ben broke down the door into Kristi's room, and you know, he looks good."
"I think so, too," Jamila said. "But I'm no doctor. She sure has him under her thumb, though, doesn't she? It makes you wonder where care-giving stops and intimidation begins."
There it was again. Kristi's list. Wasn't that exactly what Kristi had insinuated? That Nora was manipulating the older man? How I wished I had never seen that list.
"Someone else?" Tariq said.
"Emile," Chastity cooed. "Why don't you try it."
"Not me," he said, with a wave of his hand.
"Jimmy!" a couple of the others called out.
"Not on your life!" he exclaimed.
"Oh, all right, I'll do it," Ed said, mounting the steps to the stage. "What do I have to do?"
"You will assist the snake charmer," Tariq said.
"Whoa!" Ed exclaimed, as several of the women shrieked. "Just a minute here."
"Come, come," the emcee said. "It is perfectly safe, I assure you. You'll enjoy it."
Once again the lights went down, and then came up again to reveal the snake charmer, a round basket in front of him. As he began to play the flute, the fanned head of a cobra swayed up from the basket. Everyone gasped. Ed took a step or two back. "Whoa," he said again. "I hate snakes." The music played, the snake swayed, and Ed looked as if he'd rather be just about anywhere other than where he was.
After a few minutes of cobra swaying, the snake charmer let the snake go back down into the basket, and then brought out another one about five feet long. "Here," he said, draping the snake around Ed's neck. Ed grimaced as the group groaned in sympathy.
"What did I tell you?" Nora said to Cliff. "This would have been too much for you."
"You may touch the snake," Tariq said.
"Oh, thank you," Ed said, patting it gingerly. "Nice snake." The snake charmer then grabbed the waistband of Ed's khakis, and fed the snake down his pant leg. The expression on Ed's face was one of frozen disbelief as the snake wriggled out the bottom of his pants. The women shrieked and the men all looked away.
"A special prize for this gentleman," the emcee said as the snake was carried off stage. Everyone applauded wildly as Ed accepted an engraved brass tray. There was no question in my mind that he deserved it.
"Worst moment of my life," Ed was telling anyone who'd listen as we started to gather ourselves together to leave.
"Oh, look," Betty said, pointing toward the harbor. "That lovely ship. Do you think there's something wrong?"
We all turned to look at the ship I knew to be the Susannah, smoke billowing from the stern. There was a loud bang, and flames shot up. We watched helplessly as much of the ship was engulfed in an inferno.
"That should slow them down for a little while," Briars said.
8
T HIS WAS DEEPLY disturbing news, Hasdrubal thought, to say nothing of being damned inconvenient, what with the storm coming, and the ship already short one crew member. But the ship had been searched twice from bow to stern, and he'd even sent the boy, who was infinitely more observant than the rest of them, and who seemed to have found all the nooks and crannies there were to hide in, to have one last look. The inescapable conclusion was that Baalhanno was no longer on board.
He had been a strange one, that Baalhanno, with aspirations way above his station in life, and always an eye for the main chance. And the way he was always watching everybody: More than once Hasdrubal had heard complaints that Baalhanno was a spy; more than once he'd had to break up fights between Baalhanno and the object of his scrutiny. Not a terribly popular crew member, it had to be said. Nonetheless, the news was alarming.
He could certainly have fallen overboard. That happened often enough, regrettable though it might be. On the other hand, since Abdelmelqart had been murdered--there was no question in the captain's mind about that--then perhaps Baalhanno, an innocent if obnoxious man, had been helped over the side. But for now Hasdrubal must put all this aside. There was his ship to think of, and his men, and these were perilous times. Anything could happen.
I T TOOK A FEW hours to get the fire on board the Susannah under control. Fortunately, all but one crew member was ashore for dinner. For that one, however, Margaret Robinson, the outlook was poor; she was severely burned over much of her body. "I have a horrible feeling that Margaret might be the Maggie I met the night you and I were at the restaurant together," I said to Jamila. "She was lovely, and so excited about her job. What a dreadful thing to happen to her."