time.'
Skiros shook his head. 'Nothing is a waste of time in this work. One day, when you least expect it, he will take it into his head to perform his duties conscientiously.' He removed the outer wrappings of the package as he spoke, and revealed a neat stack of Indian rupees.
As Skiros counted the bundles, Kane shook his head. Til never understand this racket. Gold smuggled into India, rupees smuggled out.'
Skiros smiled. 'It's all a question of exchange. In this modern world it is really so easy to make money. One doesn't need to steal at all.' His face was shiny with sweat once more. He held his hands lightly over the stack of bank-notes and sighed. 'Ah, my friend, if you knew the effect money has on me. When I moved here from Goa six months ago I'd no idea what a gold mine the place is.'
Kane poured himself another drink. 'Why don't you try spending some of it once in a while?'
Skiros shrugged. 'I started life on a mountain farm in northern Greece. The fields were more stones than soil. My mother was an old woman at twenty-five, and one year, when the crops failed in the drought, my two sisters died of starvation. It is something I have never forgotten. That is why I live only to make money. I gloat over the size of my bank balance. I begrudge every penny I have to pay out.'
Kane grinned. 'While we're on the subject of paying out, I'll take my cut now. Dollars as usual, if you don't mind.'
Skiros laughed so that the flesh trembled on his huge body. 'But I would never forget you, my friend. After all, you are an essential part of my whole organization. The king-pin, I believe you call it.'
'Skip the flattery and let's have the cash,' Kane said.
Skiros produced a bulging wallet and proceeded to count out hundred-dollar bills. His hands were sweating, and he placed each bill reluctantly upon the table. When he had reached twenty, he paused, then added five more. 'There you are, my friend,' he said. 'We agreed on two thousand, but I give you a bonus of five hundred dollars. Let no man say Skiros does not reward good service.'
Kane swept the bills into the table drawer. 'You old spider. You know damned well, most of it will come back to you, either over the bar at your hotel or across the gambling tables.'
Skiros laughed again, his face crinkling so that the eyes almost disappeared, and pushed himself to his feet. 'Now I must go.' He moved to the door and then paused. 'But I am forgetting some important news.' He turned slowly. 'A woman came in from Aden on the boat this afternoon. An American named Cunningham - Mrs Ruth Cunningham. Extremely pretty. She has been asking for you.' x
Kane stiffened, a surprised frown crossing his face. 'I don't know anyone called Cunningham.'
Skiros shrugged. 'She appears to know you, or to know of you at least. She is staying at my hotel. I told her I would be seeing you, and she asked me to give you a message. She would like you to come to the hotel. She said it was most impoitant.'
Kane still frowned down at the table, leaning forward, his weight on his hands. After a slight pause Skiros said, 'You will come?'
Kane straightened up and nodded. 'Sure, I'll come. I'll be there some time this evening.'
Skiros nodded. 'Good, I shall tell her.' He smiled. 'Don't look so worried. Perhaps she is only a tourist. Maybe she wishes to charter your boat to go spear-fishing along the reef.'
Kane nodded slowly. 'Yes, you're probably right.' But he didn't believe that was the reason - not for a moment - and, after Skiros had gone, he went back to the bunk and lay staring at the ceiling, groping back into the past, trying to place Ruth Cunningham. But it was no good. The name meant nothing to him.
He glanced at his watch. It was just after three, and for a little while longer he lay there; then, with a sigh of exasperation, he swung his legs to the floor and started
Shauna Rice-Schober[thriller]