Flyaway

He shrugged. 'They're too busy to bother with us now. A plane came in from Agadez to take an injured man to hospital. I left the passports; I'll pick them up later.'

The waiter put an omelette in front of me and I ordered a beer for Shaeffer. Kissack ordered another beer for himself so he'd be staying a while. I turned to him. 'You know, I have seen you before.'

'For Christ's sake!' he said tiredly.

'Wasn't it in Tammanrasset? You were driving a Range-Rover.'

That got through to him. He went very still, a glass halfway to his lips. Then he turned and looked at me with stony eyes. 'What are you getting at, chummy?'

'Nothing,' I said coolly. 'It's just that a thing like that niggles me. Nice to know I wasn't mistaken. You were in Tarn, then.'

'And what if I was? What's it to you?'

I tackled my omelette. 'Nothing.' I turned to Shaeffer and switched to German. 'I forgot to tell you. Rhossi, your guide, is here in Bilma. Someone told me he was waiting for a German party so I assume it's you. Have you seen him?' Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kissack staring at me. I hoped his lack of German was complete.

Shaeffer shook his head. 'He'll be camped at Kalala near the salt workings.'

I turned back to Kissack. 'I was just asking Helmut, here, if he's seen the guide yet. You need a guide to cross the Tenere.'

'When were you in Tammanrasset?' Kissack asked suddenly.

'Evidently when you were,' I said. 'Oh, by the way; did you hear anything about that chap who disappeared? Another Englishman. There was a devil of a brouhaha going on about it when I left.'

Kissack moistened his lips. 'What was his name?'

'Wilson,' I said. 'No, that's not right. Williamson? No, not that, either. My memory really is playing me up – first you, now this chap.' I frowned. 'Billson!' I said in triumph. 'That was his name. Billson. The police were really in a stew about him, but you know what Algerians, are like. Bloody bureaucrats with sub-machine-guns!'

The waiter put a bottle of beer and a glass in front of Shaeffer and another bottle before Kissack. He ignored it. 'What happened to this Billson?' His voice was over-controlled.

I didn't answer immediately but popped a slice of omelette into my mouth. I'd got Kissack interested enough to ask questions and that was progress, and the omelette was quite good. I swallowed and said, 'He went up into Atakor without asking permission and didn't come back. There were a hell of a lot of rumours floating around when I left.'

'What sort of rumours?'

'Oh, the usual stuff that goes around when anything like that happens. Unbelievable, most of it.' I had Kissack hooked because he asked, 'Such as?' I shrugged. 'Well, for instance, someone said his Land-Rover had been found burnt out the other side of Assekrem. You know those parts?'

'Not well,' said Kissack tightly.

'This is a damned good omelette,' I observed. 'Anyway, someone else said his body had been brought out and he'd died of exposure. But then there was a buzz that he'd been brought out alive but he'd been shot. I told you – unbelievable stuff. Those things don't happen these days, do they? The desert is pretty civilized now.'

'What are you talking about?' asked Shaeffer. He grinned. 'My Tamachek is better than my English – I heard Tammanrasset and Atakor and Assekrem.'

'Oh, just about an Englishman who vanished near Tarn.' Kissack was looking bleak. He said, 'Any rumours about what finally happened to Billson?'

'The last I heard was that he was in hospital in Tarn with a police guard – sort of house arrest. Just another bloody rumour, though.'

Kissack fell silent and poured his beer. He was thinking hard; I could almost see the damned wheels going round. I turned to Shaeffer and started to chat about the problems of crossing the Tenere, all in German. After a while Kissack said, 'Stafford… it is Stafford, isn't it?' I turned. 'Yes?'

'How did you get from Tarn to here?'

That was a stumer; a damned good question. I visualized the Michelin map I had pored over, and said lightly, 'Flew across to Djanet from Tarn, then came south. I was already booked into the party. Why?'

'What were you doing in Tarn?'

I frowned. 'Not that it's any of your business but I'm interested in Charles de Foucauld. I wanted to see where and how he lived.'

Kissack said, 'I think you're a damned liar.' He nodded towards Shaeffer. 'Any tour group coming down from Djanet is going to go through Tammanrasset anyway. Why should you want to go there twice?'

I stood up. 'Because I'm leaving the group at Agadez and going south to Kano. That's why. Now get up off that damned bench. No man calls me a liar.'

Kissack looked up at me but didn't move. Shaeffer said, 'What's the matter?' He hadn't understood what was said but the changed atmosphere needed no language to understand.