The Doomed Oasis

III. THE COURT STANDS ADJOURNED

It was the third day of the trial and David Whitaker had gone into the witness box immediately after the lunchtime recess. Counsel for the Defence had taken him through the salient points arising from my evidence with the object of showing his relationship with his father in the best possible light. Now, late in the afternoon, he had arrived at the crucial point — Colonel Whitaker’s visit to Fort Jebel al-Akhbar. The packed Court was very still, every eye on the fair-haired boy standing, neat and tidy, in the box, his arm in a sling and the sunburned face looking almost black in contrast with his light tropical suit.

‘I would like the Court to have a clear picture of your situation on that particular morning.’ Counsel glanced down at his papers, his hands resting lightly on the desk in front of him. ‘By then you had been on the Jebel al-Akhbar seven days. Is that right?’

‘Yes.’

‘And there were only two of you left. Salim, Ali and Hamid were dead; Grant had gone. There was just yourself and bin Suleiman, and you were both wounded.’

‘Yes.’

‘Had you been attacked during the night?’

‘No, it was some days since they’d made any attempt to take the fort.’

‘But you were under fire?’

‘They’d got men lying out in the rocks all round the fort, but we were all right as long as we remained in the tower. They’d fire a few shots once in a while just to remind us they were there, and at night they’d move up to the walls. But they didn’t bother us much. We were pretty used to them by then, you see.’ Just the trace of a Welsh accent to remind the Court that this was the same boy who had run wild in Cardiff docks.

The reporters were scribbling furiously. This was the big moment and when the Court adjourned there would be a rush for the telephone to catch the daily papers before they went to press.

‘On the morning in question, were there any shots fired — other than the shot that killed your father?’

‘No, none.’

‘Did that strike you as unusual?’

‘I can’t remember that I thought about it. It was some time since any shots had been fired. They were lying quiet, you see, hoping we’d think there was nobody there and get careless. But we knew the bastards were there, waiting for us.’

‘So you remained inside the tower?’

‘Of course. I hadn’t been out of the tower since Mr Grant came up to talk to me. There wasn’t any point. It was cooler there and the walls were good protection.’

‘Was there any other reason you didn’t leave it?’

‘I tell you, man, they were lying out there waiting for us. I wasn’t risking being shot at when there wasn’t any point.’

‘Quite so. But what I’m getting at is this: wasn’t it a fact that you were too weak by then to attempt a descent from the tower?’

‘Well, yes, I suppose so. Anyway, there wasn’t any reason for us to be wasting what little strength we had left to no purpose.’

‘Were you weak because of lack of water or lack of food — or was it because you were wounded that you hadn’t the strength to leave the tower?’

‘I tell you, there wasn’t any point.’ His tone was irritable; he didn’t seem to understand what his Counsel was trying to establish.

‘When had you last had any food?’

‘I can’t remember. We’d some dried camel meat left, but it wasn’t any use to us. We couldn’t swallow.it. We did try and chew it, but it was very painful and in the end we didn’t ‘bother.’

‘You couldn’t chew because of lack of water?’

‘Yes. We’d no saliva and our tongues were swollen and quite black. Our mouths were absolutely dry.’

‘Had you any water left?’

‘Captain Berry had given me a water bottle. We’d finished our own supplies and now that bottle was half empty.’

‘Your situation then was quite desperate.’

‘Pretty desperate.’

‘I want the Court to be absolutely clear about this.’ Counsel paused, glancing from the Judge to the crowded press desks. ‘In your opinion, how much longer do you think you could have held out? In other words-’ And here he spoke slowly and with great emphasis — ‘How long before you were dead of thirst?’

David shook his head. ‘I can’t be certain. We’d have finished the water bottle that day. If we’d been left alone we might have stayed alive a few days more.’

‘You heard the evidence of Doctor Logan who saw you when you arrived in Sharjah. He said you were in such a weak condition that he didn’t believe you could have lasted more than another twenty-four hours.’

David’s head went up. ‘That all depends on how urgently you want to stay alive, doesn’t it? I’d have lasted longer than that. But not if they’d attacked us.’

Counsel seized on this. ‘You say, not if they’d attacked you. Do you mean you were too weak by then to defend yourselves?’

‘That’s about it.’

‘Could you stand?’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t try.’

‘Could you have lifted a rifle to your shoulder and fired it?’

‘If they’d attacked us I expect I’d have managed somehow.’

‘But you were so weak that it would have required the urgency of an attack to give you the strength to lift even a rifle to your shoulder?’

David hesitated. ‘I suppose so,’ he murmured. And then in a clearer voice, ‘It’s difficult to explain to you people here. But everything was an effort by then. Everything,’ he repeated.

‘Quite so. And if you couldn’t lift a rifle to your shoulder except in a moment of great urgency, then you’d hardly have had the strength to descend from the tower by that ladder and then climb back up again and pull the ladder ‘Objection!’ Counsel for the Prosecution was on his feet facing the Judge. ‘The Defence is putting words into the witness’s mouth.’

But Counsel for the Defence had made his point. ‘I will re-phrase the question then.’ And turning to the witness box again, he asked, ‘Did you at any time on the morning in question, and before the Trucial Oman Scouts arrived to take over the fort, leave the tower for any purpose whatsoever?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Did you at any time attempt to lower the ladder?’

‘No.’

The Court breathed an audible sigh. ‘One more question before we come to the moment of the meeting with your father: Did you know that the Trucial Oman Scouts would move into the Emirate of Hadd that day? In other words, had you any reason to suppose that your ordeal was nearing its end?’

‘None at all.’

‘We have the evidence of Mr Grant that from their position six miles away beyond the Hadd border they could see the fort quite clearly through field glasses. Could you see them? In other words, could you see that over a dozen vehicles had materialized at that position during the night?’

‘No.’

‘As far as you were concerned, nothing had altered that morning — your situation remained as desperate?’

‘Yes.’

‘All you knew of what was going on in the world outside was what Mr Grant had told you two days before.’

That’s right.’

Counsel paused, again consulting his papers. ‘Now we come to the moment of your father’s arrival at the fort. You’d no reason to expect him?’

‘How could I?’

‘Quite so. I suppose you’ve no idea what time it was when he arrived?’

David shook his head. ‘My watch had stopped. I’d forgotten to wind it a few days back. All I know is the sun had been up some time.’

‘Had you any warning that you were going to receive a visitor?’

‘There was some shouting; an order in Arabic not to fire. It was given by a man holding a white flag. The last time that had happened was when Mr Grant came with Captain Berry.’

‘That was the occasion on which a treacherous attempt had been made on your life?’ And when David nodded, Counsel added, ‘And on that occasion you had taken the precaution of sending bin Suleiman to the top of the tower, just in case. Did you take the same precaution this time?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘He was unconscious.’

‘And you hadn’t the strength to climb up there yourself?’

‘No.’

‘Would you tell the Court please what happened when your father arrived.’

‘Well … ‘ David hesitated, his eyes glancing quickly round the courtroom. Finally he turned towards the Judge. ‘I thought it was an Arab at first — one of the Emir’s men. He came in by the main gate, and he was dressed in Arab clothes, you see. I didn’t recognize him — my eyes weren’t too good. But then he stopped just inside the gate and called me by name and said who he was.’

‘Were you surprised to see him?’

David shrugged. ‘He was there. That was all there was to it.’ And he added, ‘No, I don’t think I was surprised. When you’re in the state I was, you just don’t register anything.’

‘What happened then?’

‘Well, he came to the foot of the tower and we talked.’

‘What about?’

‘I don’t remember.’

‘He wanted you to abandon the fort, didn’t he?’

‘At first.’

‘He changed his mind then?’

‘Yes.’

‘What made him change his mind?’

An obstinate look had come into David’s face. ‘He just changed it, that’s all.’

‘Was that after you’d told your father that your defence of the fort had made headline news back home?’

‘I don’t remember.’

‘You did tell him that, didn’t you? You did pass on to him this information which you had obtained from Mr Grant?’

‘I don’t know. I expect so.’

‘Was your father surprised?’ And when David didn’t answer. Counsel went on, ‘What I want the Court to know is whether or not Colonel Whitaker knew about the newspaper stories of your exploits and the fact, that there had been questions in the House. The evidence at the moment points to the fact that he couldn’t have known before you told him. Would you agree?’

‘I really can’t say.’

‘But he must have made some comment, shown some reaction?’

‘I tell you, I don’t remember. I wasn’t in a fit state to remember details.’

‘You were talking to him from one of the embrasures of the tower or from the entrance hole?’

‘From the embrasure. I should have been an easier target if I’d dragged myself to the entrance hole and I was afraid of getting sniped at.’

‘And the whole interview was carried on with you in that same position. You didn’t move at all?’

‘No.’

‘Where was Colonel Whitaker?’

‘Standing right below me.’

‘Could you see him?’

‘Yes.’

‘And when the interview was ended; where did he go then?’

‘I think he moved nearer to the tower, away to my right. I can’t be sure, but I lost sight of him.’

‘Towards the cliff-top?’

‘Yes.’

‘And what happened then?’

‘Well, a little time passed, and then … then there was a shot.’

‘A rifle shot or a pistol shot?’

‘It was a rifle shot.’

‘You’re certain of that?’

‘Yes.’

‘And after the shot, was there any other sound?’

‘Yes, a sound of falling stones. That’s when I knew he’d gone over the cliff.’

‘What did you do then?’

‘I dragged myself to the southern embrasure, but I couldn’t see directly down the cliff face so I didn’t know what had happened. I tried to call out to him, but I don’t think my voice made any real sound.’

Counsel leaned forward, his voice pitched low. ‘You’ve heard a ballistics expert give it as his opinion that your father was killed by a bullet from a pistol, not a rifle.’

‘It was a rifle.’

Counsel stared at him and the whole Court could see the quandary he was in. But the evidence that had gone before had to be disposed of. ‘You have also heard Dr Logan’s evidence. He has said that post-mortem examination strongly suggests that the shot that killed your father was fired at close range. He, too, thinks it was a pistol shot.’

‘How do they know?’ David said almost belligerently. They didn’t find the bullet, did they? And they weren’t there. I was, and I’m telling you it was a rifle shot.’

The Judge leaned forward. ‘I would like to get this quite clear. You have said that your condition was such that you cannot remember what passed between you. You have, in fact, left the Court with the impression that your powers of perception at that time were at a very low ebb. Yet on this point of the shot, you are quite categorical. You say it was a rifle shot?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Had you a rifle in your hand?’

‘No, sir. I didn’t fire the shot. It was fired by one of those treacherous-’

But the Judge stopped him. ‘You will kindly confine yourself to answering the questions put to you. Am I to take it that you’re absolutely clear in your mind that the fatal shot was fired from a rifle and not from a pistol?’

‘Yes.’

The murmur of a sigh filled the courtroom. They didn’t like it. The Judge sat back, nodding to Counsel to continue. I glanced at Sue. Her face was white. She, too, felt the change of mood in the room. It was obvious that David was withholding vital evidence about what had passed between his father and himself, and he’d been altogether too determined to put the blame for his father’s death on the Emir’s men. I heard the man next to me whisper to his companion, ‘He hasn’t a hope if he goes on like this.’

Counsel stood for a moment staring down at his papers, undecided whether to pursue the matter further. Finally he lifted his head and faced the witness box again. ‘Suppose we consider for a moment that you were in no fit state to be certain on this point and that it was, in fact, a pistol shot that killed your father. Had you a pistol?’

David stared at him, sullen and white-faced. ‘You know I had. That ballistic chap’s already given evidence that he examined it.’

‘Quite. A six-chambered revolver with two rounds still left in the chambers. And you had some spare rounds loose in a leather bag. Exactly how many rounds had you fired with that weapon?’

‘Just the four. I didn’t use any of the spare rounds.’

‘Why?’

‘A rifle was more useful. I only used the revolver once. That was on the night Mr Grant left. They got pretty close then and when I’d emptied the magazine of my rifle, I used the revolver.’

‘And you fired four rounds with it that night?’

‘Yes.’

‘I see.’ Counsel paused. And then, speaking very slowly, he said, ‘If we accept the medical evidence, based on Dr Logan’s post-mortem following the exhumation of your father’s body, and the evidence of the ballistics expert, then the possibility of your father having been killed by one of the Emir’s men is ruled out entirely.’ He leaned forward, staring at David. ‘I want you to be quite clear on this point. There remain then only two possibilities. Either you killed your father or he killed himself.’ A long pause this time. And then the question, put bluntly, ‘Did Colonel Whitaker kill himself?’

‘He hadn’t got a rifle. He wasn’t armed.’

‘Are you sure? He might have had a pistol concealed under his robes.’ And then Counsel put the question again, trying for the way out, pressing the issue in an attempt to give David the one chance that might save him. ‘Did Colonel Whitaker shoot himself or did he not?’

David stared at him, his eyes unnaturally big in his dark face. And then his mouth opening slowly and the courtroom hushed, some sixth sense warning us all that he was about to close the door on this one hope of acquittal. And finally the words: ‘I’ve told you before — he was killed by a rifle shot fired by one of the Emir’s men.’ And then turning from Counsel towards the Court, he added in a firm, clear voice, ‘Does anyone imagine my father was the sort of man who’d kill himself?’

That, more than anything else, settled it in the minds of the Court, for he was voicing what everyone there felt. And after that there was nothing Counsel could really do to help him. The Defence rests.’ He sat down abruptly and the stillness in the courtroom was absolute.

The Judge spoke then, his thin, tired voice sounding remote and detached. ‘It is almost five-thirty.’ He was leaning slightly forward. ‘And I gather there are certain gentlemen here who have deadlines to catch.’ The dry humour produced an easing of tension, a little whisper of relieved laughter. ‘I intend to adjourn now until tomorrow. But before I do so I think it is my duty to address a word to the prisoner. Your Counsel has advised you to go into the witness box and you have elected so to do — rightly in my view since otherwise the Court would have no means of knowing what happened on the morning of your father’s death.’ The voice was warmer now, almost fatherly. ‘Today you have been answering questions put to you by your own Counsel. When the Court resumes tomorrow, however, it will be the Prosecution’s turn to cross-examine you, and I must warn you that he is likely to question you most closely on what passed between you and your father. The witness, George Grant, has shown in his evidence that there was a great deal of misunderstanding, not to say friction, between the two of you. I feel it my duty to warn you, therefore, that it will greatly prejudice your case if you refuse to tell the Court what passed between you, and I would ask you to take advantage of the adjournment to consider very carefully your attitude here. Justice is dependent on the evidence of witnesses. You are now a witness. You would be wise not to withhold, from whatever motive, vital evidence.’ For a moment he remained, leaning forward, staring at the prisoner. Then he picked up his gavel and rapped. ‘The Court stands adjourned until ten o’clock tomorrow morning.’

The Court rose, the Judge bowed, and the rush for the doors began. Still standing in the box, David glanced slowly round the courtroom. He was sweating and he looked tired. For a brief moment his gaze rested on his sister and he gave her an uncertain, almost apologetic smile; then police guards closed round him and he was lost to view beyond the milling heads of the crowd. ‘I suppose the Judge meant it kindly.’ Sue’s hand was on my arm and I could feel her trembling slightly. ‘But David won’t change his mind, and tomorrow the Prosecution will make a strong case out of his silence, won’t they?’ She sounded nervously exhausted, her voice tired.

‘It won’t look good,’ I said.

‘And it was a mistake, wasn’t it — trying to blame it on one of the Emir’s men?’

‘Yes.’ No point in pretending it wasn’t a mistake. The medical evidence is against it; the ballistics expert, too … ‘ We passed out into the sunlight and the humid heat of Bahrain engulfed us like a steam bath. The street was crowded with cars, packed with people, a solid mass of Bahrainis. Gorde was waiting beside his car and he called to me. ‘A word with you, Grant.’ He took me aside. ‘That boy’s going to be convicted if somebody doesn’t persuade him to talk.’

‘I thought you were behind this witch-hunt,’ I said angrily.

‘I made a statement; but I hadn’t all the facts, had I?’ He stared at me accusingly as though I were to blame for that. ‘Now that I’ve heard your evidence, seen the way he’s behaving in the witness box … ‘ He hesitated and then turned abruptly towards the car. ‘Get in, Grant. You, too, Miss Thomas. I want to talk to you.’ And as the driver nosed the car through the crowds, he turned to Sue and said, ‘I think I could arrange for you to see your brother tonight.’

She gave a hopeless little shrug. ‘It wouldn’t do any good. I think he’d rather be convicted, you see, than have the world know that Colonel Whitaker, that legendary figure of the desert, committed suicide.’ She was very near to tears and she added with a hint of wildness in her voice, ‘Just because his father’s dead, all David’s feeling for him, the hero-worship my mother fed him when he was a kid, has returned, magnified a thousand times by the friction there was between them when he was alive. Nothing that I can say will make him change his mind. I know that.’

‘I see.’ Gorde didn’t seem surprised. ‘Then we must think of something else. Nobody’s happy about the situation, least of all the authorities.’ He put his hand out and his gnarled fingers rested for a moment on Sue’s arm. ‘Miss Thomas. Your father was a strange man. And he’d been a long time in the desert. A hell of a long time, and alone.’ He spoke with surprising gentleness. ‘He was a great man in his way. You should be proud of him.’

She stared at him, dry-eyed, her face white. ‘Well, I’m not. I don’t care about him. To me it doesn’t matter a damn whether he killed himself or was killed by somebody else. He’s dead. All I care about is David.’

Gorde sighed. ‘Would it help you to understand him if I told you that he tried to join David in that tower — that David either couldn’t or wouldn’t lower the ladder to him. He actually got as far as the entrance hole but couldn’t pull himself in.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Bin Suleiman. After he left hospital, he disappeared. I’ve had men scouring the desert for him ever since. They brought him in two days ago. Your brother says he was unconscious. So he was, most of the time.’

‘You mean he regained consciousness?’ I asked. And when Gorde nodded I thought he’d found the witness who could save David. ‘Why didn’t you notify David’s Counsel then?’

‘Because it wouldn’t help. Bin Suleiman heard them talking, but he didn’t know who it was David was talking to and he didn’t know what they were saying. They were talking in English. And the fact that Charles climbed up to the entrance hole, which is the only material fact he can add to the evidence, would only operate against David. Bin Suleiman thought it was one of the Emir’s men trying to get in and he reached for his rifle. The effort, or more probably the pain of movement, caused him to lose consciousness again so that he knows nothing of what happened after that.’

‘But it’s sufficient to cause you to change your mind about David’s guilt,’ I said. ‘Why?’

‘Oh, it’s not that. That’s only a fragment of the picture that’s been building up in my mind. One of the first things I did was to send Entwhistle down to take over at Charles’s camp on the Hadd border. He reported the rig gutted, the seismological truck burned out, the place deserted. He had the sense to go on to Saraifa where he had a talk with some of Charles’s men. That raiding party you saw heading into the desert towards the rig attacked the camp at dawn. They came in firing their guns and when they’d got hold of Charles, the Emir’s secretary had him bound to a camel and made him sit there whilst they set fire to everything. When they started back towards Hadd there wasn’t a thing left that they hadn’t destroyed.’

Visualizing the scene, I began to understand how desperate Whitaker’s mood must have been. ‘He said he had some sort of hold over the Emir,’ I murmured. ‘I can even remember his words; he said, “I know that little Emir inside out”.’

‘Probably he did — certainly well enough to know that the man was in a vicious mood and prepared to go to any lengths. I sent a couple of the best Bedouins we’ve got on the payroll into Hadd a month ago. They reported that when he reached Hadd the Emir gave Charles the choice — either he brought his son down from the fort, alive or dead, or he’d be taken out into the Empty Quarter and left there to die.’

‘Didn’t it occur to him that Whitaker might throw in his lot with his son?’ I asked.

‘Oh, it was more subtle than that. The Emir also thought he knew his man. That was why he ordered the destruction of the rig. He offered to finance Charles’s drilling operations once his son was out of the way and the Jebel al-Akhbar in his hands. That’s the story anyway.’

‘But surely the Defence had a right to know-’

‘Rumours,’ Gorde growled. ‘It wasn’t evidence. Besides, how could I be sure what had happened till I knew the facts? I wanted your evidence and David Whitaker’s evidence … ‘ He shrugged. ‘Even now I can’t be sure.’

‘But you think you know what happened?’ Sue was leaning forward, staring at him.

‘Yes, I think I know now. I think Charles realized, after talking to his son, that what he’d regarded as a useless demonstration had, in fact, a chance of succeeding. He wanted to join David then, but probably he hadn’t told his son what the alternative was and David refused to lower the ladder. Charles tried to get into the tower and failed, and then he stood on the edge of the cliff looking down on to Hadd, knowing that if he went back to the Emir he’d be going to his death. It’s a slow death to die of thirst, and it would serve no purpose. Whereas to die quickly, by a bullet … I suppose he’d been allowed to carry a pistol with him and I’ve no doubt he thought that a dramatic end like that-’ He sighed. ‘He’d nothing to live for any more — the rig destroyed, his son doing what he might have done himself. But he could still do something. He could still die. And like that, tumbling down from that cliff top, the news of his death would be spread by camel men from waterhole to waterhole. He still had a great reputation amongst the Bedou and his death would be attributed to the Emir’s treachery. I suppose he thought it might provoke a desert rising against the tyrant.’ He hesitated, and then he gave a little shrug. ‘I’m just guessing, that’s all. I knew Charles very well, and that I think was what was in his mind.’ He looked at Sue then. ‘That’s why, Miss Thomas, I think you should be proud of your father. And he was right in a way. His death did influence the situation. If he hadn’t died like that the Emir might not have agreed to Colonel George’s terms. There might have been fighting and God knows where it would have ended.’

‘You must tell this to the Court,’ Sue said.

But he shook his head. ‘It’s no good, Miss Thomas. The Judge trying this case has been brought out from England. He couldn’t begin to understand the sort of man Charles was — the sweep of his vision, the almost Arab subtlety of his mind. And the only absolute proof — the pistol with one bullet fired — I don’t possess. My men searched the ground where his body was picked up, but they couldn’t find that or anything else that has a bearing on the case. Doubtless the Emir had it destroyed since he wanted to show Charles as a defenceless man murdered by his son. No,’ he said quietly. This is a matter for action now.’ He turned and ordered the driver to head for my hotel. ‘We’ll drop Grant and then you’ll come on with me. Miss Thomas. I’ll arrange for you to see your brother tonight. When you do, give him this.’ He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and removed a thick wad of East African notes. ‘There’ll be a message, too.’ He handed the notes to Sue.

She stared at him, too startled for a moment to say anything. And then she burst out: ‘I don’t know what you’re planning to do, Sir Philip. But whatever it is, you’re not doing it for David. You’re doing it because you want him back in Saraifa. You’re signing a concession and you want to be sure you’ll be drilling … ‘

‘How do you know we’re signing a concession?’ Gorde barked in that peculiar rasping voice of his. ‘Alex Erkhard knows. A few other executives, but that’s all. How the devil has it got to your ears?’

‘It’s true then.’ She turned to me, her voice tired. ‘In Court, when you were giving evidence — I sat next to that girl-friend of David’s. She told me. She’d got it from one of the oilmen at the al-Menza Club and she said she was telling me because, if things went badly for David, I might be able to make use of it.’ She glanced at Gorde and there was suddenly a glint of that irrepressible Celtic humour in her eyes. ‘She thought you’d need David — alive and free.’

Gorde caught the glint and the hard, battered features relaxed in a smile. ‘She sounds a clever girl. What’s her name?’

Tessa,’ I said.

‘And she’s a hostess at the al-Menza?’ He nodded. ‘I’ll remember that. But please understand this, Miss Thomas: Free, your brother could be very useful to us. I admit that. Arabs respect force, particularly the force of a strong and fearless personality. The Emir is afraid of him and in Saraifa he’d be worth more to us than a hundred armed men. We don’t want any more trouble on that border. But I promise you this: anything I can do will be done for one reason only — because I’m satisfied now that he’s innocent.’

‘Of course, Sir Philip.’ Sue’s voice, the little smile on her lips, were tinged with irony. But I noticed also that her eyes were alight with excitement.

The car slid to a stop. We had reached my hotel. ‘You get out here, Grant. I’m taking Miss Thomas on with me.’ Gorde’s hand gripped my arm. ‘Don’t try and get in touch with her tonight, and don’t talk to anybody. What we’ve said here is between ourselves. Understand?’

I nodded and got out. The car drove off then and I went into the hotel. It was full of newspaper men; they crowded round me as soon as I entered. What did I think of David Whitaker’s chances? Was he going to talk? I told them I’d no comment to make and escaped to my room. I had my dinner brought up to me, read the papers, which were full of the trial, and went to bed early.

To this day I don’t know what part Gorde played in the events of that night. Sue saw David shortly after ten o’clock. She was allowed to see him alone and she said afterwards that he looked tired at first, though he was quite cheerful. She gave him the money and also Gorde’s message, and after that the tiredness seemed to drop from him. The message was simply: Bin Suleiman is in Bahrain. He and another Bedouin will be waiting by the side entrance all night. He asked her a lot of questions then, about Gorde’s attitude to him and what he thought had happened up there in the fort. And when she had answered them all, he seemed anxious for her to go, his eyes very bright, his manner tense, almost nervous.

It was hot in my room and I didn’t sleep very well. My nerves were on edge and I kept worrying about Sue. And then just as it was beginning to get light I heard footsteps in the corridor outside and the door of the next room was flung open; muffled conversation and the movements of a man dressing in a hurry. I looked at my watch. It was just after four. I got dressed and went down. By then the hotel was in a ferment, reporters and cameramen trying to telephone for cars, the word ‘escape’ on everybody’s lips. Within half an hour the hotel was deserted.

I got one of the house-boys to bring me some coffee and sat over it smoking endless cigarettes, waiting, and wondering what had happened. In less than an hour the first of the newspapermen were drifting back and it was official — David had escaped. I never got the details absolutely clear. I doubt whether anyone did, for the thing was hushed up and there was no enquiry of any sort. There was a lot of talk about a force of Bedou from the desert, but that was clearly a story invented by his guards to cover themselves. The only Arab definitely implicated was bin Suleiman, and then only because a strolling reporter happened to recognize him loitering outside the walls. FAITHFUL COMPANION RESCUES AL-AKHBAR HERO ran the headlines of that particular newspaper. But it was more subtly managed than that, though whether David bribed his guards to unlock the doors or whether it was all arranged by some outside agency I don’t know. The fact is that David was able to walk out of the place and from that point it must have been very carefully organized, for when his guards raised the alarm at 0335 hours he had completely disappeared. There were rumours that he was being hidden in a rich merchant’s house, that he was lying up, disguised as an Arab, in a house on Muharraq, that he had been got away in a dhow. The whole of Bahrain seethed with rumours, but nobody knew anything definite and neither Sue nor I dared go and see Tessa, who was the one person we both thought might know where he’d been taken.

The newspapermen stayed another twenty-four hours and then they were suddenly gone, like a cloud of locusts moving on, the story dead. And all Gorde would say when I went to see him was, ‘I don’t know anything, and I wouldn’t tell you if I did. But this way it’s a lot easier for everybody.’ The heavy-lidded eyes stared at me. ‘Tell his sister not to worry. I expect she’ll hear from him in due course.’

We were married in a registry office in Cardiff four months later and when we got back from our honeymoon there was a letter waiting for us. It came in a parcel containing a silver coffee pot, very intricately worked. The letter was headed Saraifa:

A mutual friend of ours in GODCO has sent me word that you two are getting married. Congratulations! I thought you’d both like something from Arabia as a wedding present. It should have been native work from Saraifa. But I came to the conclusion that only the best would do. The coffee pot comes from Riyadh, by courtesy of GODCO, and is as good as any Arab potentate possesses. Remember me sometimes when you use it.

The situation here has settled down. I have a small force under my command, composed mainly of men of the Wahiba and the Rashid, and the money for its upkeep is provided. All five falaj channels are running with water and we hope within about a month to have the first of the old channels back in use. The Concession agreement has provided the funds and we are running the channel right through the oasis to irrigate the camel thorn we’ll be planting as a break against the sands of the Empty Quarter.

As soon as you have time, I want you both to come out here for a holiday. I think I can promise you more comfort than you had last time, and there’ll be plenty for you to see. Come next winter. The weather is perfect at that time of the year. We’ll have struck oil by then. And if it’s all that we hope, it will be called the Whitaker Oilfield.

Not much news except that the Emir has invited Sheikh Mahommed and myself to go hawking. We shall go in force, exchange presents, and I hope live in peace thereafter. God bless you both!

Affectionately,

‘ The Brother of Sheikh Khalid’

(By which title I am now known)