The Devil's Handshake

25

Lamu, 2006

Small, personal, and considered to be the perfect resting place after a safari or as a hideaway holiday from modern life, The Peponi Hotel, run by the Korschen family, who had opened it in 1967 to look after the hedonistic party seekers from Gstaad, was the reason why Chris and Rebecca had chosen it for their romantic weekend.

Walking into the bar of the small hotel, Wasir Osman Hassan spotted his ‘runner’ sitting in the corner with a man he was assumed was the Englishman and a very beautiful woman.

The runner having spotted Wasir as he walked into the bar immediately got up out of respect to his chieftain in order to offer his chair to him.

“It’s good to meet you, Mr. Wasir,” Chris said as a way of an introduction standing up in respect earning a single nod in return from Wasir whose eyes were instantly on Rebecca who in turn felt he was undressing her as he looked at her.

“May I introduce my fiancée, Miss Benson,” Chris said ignoring his lack of acknowledgement or manners to finish the introductions by indicating her position in his life to the pirate having spotted his obvious leer in her direction.

Again, Wasir said nothing; instead he offered a further nod in return. As far as he was concerned women existed for pleasure and creating sons, of which he had two from his three wives, and certainly not for attending meetings between men.

With the arrival of the waiter Rebecca asked if he would like a drink.

“Whiskey!” said Wasir towards the waiter, ignoring her.