In the Eye of the Storm

11. Secret Cases

'Is that so?'

'Indeed it is. And not just normal raids, where the bandits grab everything they can and run. No, these were planned, coordinated and vicious attacks. Entire caravans were slaughtered – even the camels. And camels are expensive animals.'

I was gazing out over the ship at the bustling seamen. But I wasn't really seeing them. My brain was definitely switched on now, and the gears were whirring.

'Let me guess... your greatest competitor in the trade is Lord Daniel Eugene Dalgliesh.'

'Quite so. He transports the same goods I do, only he ships them around the Cape of Good Hope. A simpler process, but lengthier and more expensive.'

'What wonderful luck for Lord Dalgliesh that those bandits suddenly decided to have a go at your caravans, Sir.'

'Do you really believe in luck, Mr Linton?'

My lips twitched. 'No, Sir.'

'Neither do I.'

'So, what is the plan? We are going over there to make sure the authorities look into the matter?'

'No. We are going over there, and I am going to make myself the authority who looks into the matter.'

I turned to stare at him. It shouldn't have surprised me, I suppose. Rikkard Ambrose wasn't one to leave his dirty work to others. But still...

'We are going to hunt bandits?'

'Correct.'

'Just out of interest... How many of these bandits do you think there are?'

He gave an almost imperceptible shrug of his broad, hard shoulders. 'In each caravan, there were at least twenty men, quite used to fighting in the desert. They were slaughtered to a man, so I estimate that there must be at least forty raiders, maybe more.'

'Ah.' I tried to swallow. It didn't really work. A stubborn lump had suddenly appeared in my throat.

'We will be joined in Alexandria by a group of men who will assist us in our efforts. And several of the well-trained fighters I took on board in London will be accompanying us into the desert to lend us their weapons expertise.'

This made me feel a little better. I managed to get the lump out of my throat and speak again.

'So, once we have captured those bandits, what are we going to do with them?'

'Capture?' It would be too much to say that one of his eyebrows actually rose, but a sense of raised eyebrows definitely emanated from his unmoving features. 'What makes you think we are going to capture them?'

'Well, what else could you d–'

I broke off, as the answer abruptly occurred to me. Suddenly, the lump in my throat was back. It had gotten bigger on its short holiday.

'I don't have any use for bandits,' Mr Ambrose told me in that cold voice of his. Then he turned away, and marched towards the captain.

'What are your men waiting for, Captain? Tell them to get this ship out of the harbour! Now!'

Now? Most of me was still a bit numb from Mr Ambrose's casual revelation of our murderous plans. But another part of me couldn't help thinking: How are we supposed to leave now? The wind is blowing in the wrong direction!

The captain didn't seem to have noticed that, though. He saluted. 'Yes, Sir, Mr Ambrose, Sir!'

I expected him to cry out 'Set the sails' or something equally nice and nautical. But instead, he merely gestured to the nearest seaman, who opened a hatch in the deck and whistled, twice.