Vulture is a Patient Bird

While Gaye was exclaiming over the room, Garry was moving around the sitting-room, making a careful examination of the doors and windows.

Miah came to show him his bedroom and bathroom, both of them as luxurious as Gaye's.

A tall Zulu maid came in carrying the sari. Gaye said she didn't need her help and could manage on her own. A Zulu manservant brought Garry a pair of white slacks, heelless slippers and a white shirt.

"Mr. Kahlenberg is quite informal," Miah said. "Dinner tonight will be on the main terrace. Please make yourselves at home. If you wish to swim, there are swim suits in the changing-room. Do explore the garden. If there is anything you wish for, please use the telephone." With a nod of her head and a smile, she left the room.

Gaye and Garry looked at each other and Garry whistled. "Talk about living it up . .

There came a tap on the door and a Zulu came in with their rucksacks. These he set on the floor and withdrew.

Garry went quickly to his rucksack and satisfied himself the two-way radio hadn't been removed. He looked at Gaye.

"I wonder if they spotted this?"

"It doesn't matter if they did, does it?" Gaye's mind was occupied with the luxury surrounding her. Her eyes shining, she went on, "Isn't it really marvellous! I'm taking a bath. See you later." Picking up her rucksack, she went into her bedroom and shut the door.

She quickly undressed. Naked, she stood for a moment admiring herself in the big mirror, then she went into the bathroom and turned on the bath taps. Again while waiting for the bath to fill, she regarded herself in the mirror, striking poses and laughing happily to herself.

What she didn't realize was that both the big mirrors were twoway: anyone behind the mirrors could see her as if the mirrors were plain glass, whereas from the front she imagined the mirrors were genuine and not trick ones.

His affairs forgotten, his desk neglected, Kahlenberg sat in his wheelchair in a narrow passage which was air conditioned and took his fill of Gaye's naked beauty.

From the edge of the jungle, Fennel watched the helicopter land. He and Ken had found a vantage point on a big balancing rock, formed by soil erosion, surrounded by trees and bushes, yet giving them an excellent view of Kahlenberg's house, garden and airfield far below them.

Fennel had powerful field glasses to his eyes. He saw Tak arrive in the jeep and Gaye meet him. He watched Gaye and Garry get into the jeep and drive to the house. He saw them enter and the front door close.

"Good for them! They're in!" he said, lowering the glasses.

"That was pretty easy, wasn't it?" Ken asked, puzzled. "From what I hear of Kahlenberg, he doesn't welcome strangers."

"Shalik said he was a sucker for a glamour puss. Looks like Shalik knew what he was talking about."

"Yes . . . but I didn't think it would be that easy." Ken picked up the two-way radio. "I'll keep this switched on. Garry may be coming through any time now."

Fennel lit a cigarette and stretched out on the rock. He was feeling tired after the long walk, carrying his tool bag. He dozed while Ken kept watch. After some little time, Fennel sat up, lit a cigarette, yawned, then asked, "When you've got the money, what are you going to do with it?"

"A pal of mine in Jo'burg is starting a travel agency," Ken told him. "He needs more capital. I'm going into partnership with him."

"Travel agency? Is that so hot?"

"It's good. We plan a de luxe service. Personally conducted tours around the game reserves. That's where I'll score. There's a lot of money in it. The Americans are heavy spenders if you give them real personal service. I've been dealing with them for some years. I know what they want, and I plan to give it to them."

Fennel grunted.

"Sounds like hard work to me. I don't believe in work. Only suckers work."

"So what are you going to do with your share?"

"Spend it . . . that's what money is for. I've got no time for the punks who save their money. What happens? They kick off and some other punk gets it."

"Maybe that's what they want."

"To hell with that! There's always money around. When I've

spent what I get from Shalik, I'll do another little job. I've got plenty of contacts. They know I'm good so I'm never short of a job."

Ken held up his hand, cutting him short. He had heard a crackle on the two-way radio and he put the set to his ear.

"Ken . . . hi, Garry . . . hearing you loud and clear . . . over." He listened for some moments while Fennel watched him intently. "Roger. Good luck. Out," and he switched off.

"Well?"

"They're staying the night," Ken told him. "Kahlenberg seems pleased they dropped in. I must say that surprises me. Anyway, they are meeting him at 21.00 hrs. Garry says he'll call back at 23.00 hrs., and for us to stand by."

Fennel grunted. He looked at his watch. It was just after midday.

"You mean we stay on this goddamn rock for twelve hours?"

"I guess so. We don't want to walk into any of the guards. I reckon it is safe up here. Let'seat." He brought out the inevitable can of beans.