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By Root 957 0

and I were shown into apartments fitted with Western furniture. Apparently one of the amirs had had a shipload of beds, chairs, etc., sent down by Harrod’s around 1910. There were hunting prints on the walls in heavy frames, and several lamps with fringed shades: these were gas-mantle lamps, connected to nothing. The actual light was provided by an oil lamp. In a bookcase were a matched set of Sir Walter Scott, the essays of Macaulay, and several bound volumes of Punch for 1898 through 1903. It was all rather touching and quite comfortable. The slave who had opened the door for us came in with my baggage. I found him gazing curiously at me and realized that I still wore the Sten gun. I smiled, removed the magazine, cleared the action, and pulled the trigger on the empty chamber, smiling to show that my weapon was unloaded and I meant him no harm. He grinned in return and backed out of the room: I don’t know whether this was a sign of respect or an act of caution. When I inspected my baggage I noticed that Ilona’s camera case had been brought into my room by mistake. There was no way to return it to her, as she had vanished into the seraglio, so I put it aside and went gratefully to sleep.

5. When I woke I found a black child of about twelve sitting cross-legged beside my bed. As I opened my eyes he poured a cup of tea and thrust it into my hands. He hopped out of the room, returning with a tin bathtub, which he carried upside down over his head. The tub was soon filled with water, and the boy stood by as I bathed, taking the soap out of my hand and giving it back as necessity required. He offered in dumb show to shave me, but I did it myself while he held a mirror over the steamy tub. He gave me a breakfast of fried eggs and what seemed to be peppered mutton, watching brightly while I manipulated the knife and fork. I found that he had unpacked my bags; my clothes, freshly pressed, were neatly arranged in a tall armoire. The whole experience was like a description by Thackeray of the beginning of a weekend in an English country house a century ago. There was even a large pile of writing paper with the arms of the amirate embossed in one corner.

6. After breakfast the boy left me for a few moments, staggering out under a load of crockery. Ilona’s camera case, newly shined, with all the scratches on the leather filled with boot polish, stood on a table. I opened it. Inside the case I found the Lefca with which Ilona takes her innumerable photographs, a lot of film, and the usual extra lenses and filters. There was, also, an Exakta 35.millimetre reflex camera that I had never seen before. This is an East German camera. It contained no film. With no special curiosity, I opened the back of the camera, cocked it, and tripped the shutter. I saw no light through the lens. The opening was set at f2.8, so I should have seen a spot of light the size of a sixpence. I tried again a couple of times, then unscrewed the lens. At the back of the lens, inside the housing of the viewfinder, was a round metal object approximately the size of a half-crown. It was something more than half an inch thick. It took me some time to realize what it was. It was a short-range radio homing device of the kind that is attached to cars. Once activated, it emits a steady signal on a fixed frequency. Anyone knowing the frequency, and having suitable receiving equipment, can locate the homing device, estimate its distance, and follow the car in which it has been planted. As the device in Ilona’s camera was enclosed in a sealed plastic packet, I assumed that it had not been activated. I put it back where I had found it and replaced the other items I had taken out of the camera case.

7. Soon after I made this discovery, Prince Kalash appeared at the door with Christopher and Miernik in tow. We went along to the Arnir’s apartment, a series of very large rooms full of rugs; fantastic geometric designs covered the walls in a continuous coup d’oeil. The Amir awaited us at the end of a long room where he sat on a divan with papers covered in Arabic script scattered