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answers to these pointless questions in a notebook. He asked Miss Bentley the same set of questions—with more revealing results for me, at least. Ilona Bentley had seen Miernik just before his departure; she had observed him and Prince Kalash from her window as they got ready to climb into a Land Rover parked in the central courtyard. She had run out of the palace, hoping that they might take her with them. “It’s tedious, hanging about one’s room all day. If there was to be a lark of any kind, I wanted to go along. Prince Kalash refused to consider it. I thought it beastly of him. There was a bit of an argument, as Prince Kalash will recall.” Qasim said: “A friendly argument, I expect?” Prince Kalash answered: “It was a spat. Ilona is a wilful girl. You can ignore that incident, Aly.” Qasim was by this time staring fixedly at Miss Bentley’s bare thighs. “One never knows what small bit of evidence will crack the case,” he said in a voice filled with sexual innuendo. “I will write it down.” He did so. Prince Kalash glowered at Qasim’s bad form. “Then write down that she forgave us before we left,” Prince Kalash said. “She wished us a happy day. In fact she went back to her room and fetched a camera for Miernik. She hung it around his neck and—I hope this will not drive you wild with envy, Aly—she kissed him good-bye. Miernik agreed to take pictures of the ruins for her. Miss Bentley is an enthusiastic photographer.” To Miss Bentley I said: “I hope it wasn t your new Leica, Ilona.” “No,” she said, “it was an old camera I carry as a spare.”

3. During the remainder of the day there was a great deal of activity at the palacemen coming and going, Prince Kalash occupied every moment with his father and Qasim. It was obvious that something more important than Miernik’s disappearance was worrying them. Qasim had arrived in a police helicopter, and he frequently dashed out of doors, leaped into the aircraft, and clattered away for an hour or two. When I protested to Kalash about the danger to Christopher and Zofia Miernik, he shrugged. “Paul is quite able to take care of himself,” he said. “I think they’re in no great danger. And they won’t be alone out there for very much longer.” He refused to elaborate on this last statement. When, the following morning, Christopher had not returned, I asked to see the Amir. It was my intention to demand that a party be sent after the American. Apart from the competitive aspect of the situation, I was anxious about him. Unlike Miernik, Christopher had no bona fides that would impress a band of Communist guerrillas. The Amir regretted that he could not see me. Whilst I was waiting in an anteroom of the Amir’s suite, Qasim entered—accompanied by a lieutenant-colonel of the parachute regiment in battle dress. Qasim smiled agreeably and said: “Good day, Captain Collins. We hope to have some news of your friend soon.” Qasim was pleased with himself for having let me know, with that reference to my army rank, that he had a file on me. At about ten o’clock that night, Prince Kalash came to my bedroom. “Nigel,” he said, “I have some rather distressing news. Paul had a radio with him, and he was supposed to contact me morning and evening so that we might keep track of him. There was no word from him this morning, nor again this evening. Perhaps he is out of range, or trying to transmit from low ground. But I think not. I think he may be having some difficulty.” The true dimensions of this incredible muddle became apparent to me. I spoke angrily: “Well, then, we’d better go out and find him. Really, Kalash, the situation is intolerable. First Miernik is carried off by a lot of cutthroats, and then you permit Christopher to go out alone-with a girl, Kalash—and lose him too. It’s too stupid. I’m beginning to believe you’re willing to get us all killed in this damned desert.” Prince Kalash then said a very curious thing: “Not all of you, Nigel,” in a tired voice. “Be ready to leave at dawn. The boy will wake you up.” He strode out of the room.

4. At dawn on 17th July I went outside to find Prince Kalash and