In the Eye of the Storm (Storm and Silence 2)

There was silence for a moment.

‘Anchors aweigh!’

That didn’t come from Mr Ambrose, but from the captain. I was still waiting for my answer. Finally, he unclenched his teeth.

‘Fine!’

With a masterly flick of his hand, he motioned for the captain to move. With a prompt salute, the man stepped out of hearing range.

‘You remember the plans that were stolen from my office?’

I cocked my head thoughtfully. ‘The plans for that canal between the Red Sea and the Mediterranean that was supposed to give you control over most of the world’s trade? The plans we risked our lives to retrieve? The plans that sank with that bloody ship that almost drowned us, too? Yes, I think I remember those.’

He threw me a dark look.

‘The planning of that canal isn’t my first attempt at establishing trade between the Red Sea and the Mediterranean. Years ago, I already established a caravan route across the Sinai Peninsula.’

I frowned. ‘Then why build a canal at all?’

He threw another look my way. This was the arrogant look of a man who makes millions as easily as other people make breakfast, and expects everyone to have the same ability. ‘Are you sure you have your brain switched on, Mr Linton? At the moment, my goods have to be unloaded from one ship in the Mediterranean, then packed onto camels and carried at a painstakingly slow pace all the way through the desert, only to be loaded onto ships again when they reach the Red Sea. The same goes for transporting things in the other direction. Something like that is only profitable or feasible for small, light luxury goods, not for heavy industrial goods, let alone raw materials.’

‘Yes.’

‘What do you mean, “Yes”?’

I raised an eyebrow. ‘I mean yes, I do have my brain switched on, Sir.’

‘Then use it!’

‘I intend to. If your caravan route is already up and running, why are we going to Egypt?’

‘That’s just it.’ Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Mr Ambrose’s hands curl into fists. ‘It is not running. At least it does not seem to be at the moment. While we were away, trying to retrieve the plans for the canal from Lord Dalgliesh, this arrived at my office.’

Pulling an envelope out of his pocket, he held it up for me to see. The sharp wind blowing around us tugged at it, trying to pull it out of his hand. In spite of the paper’s bending and fluttering, I could make out a strange, curly script all over it, and on the sheets of paper peeking out.

‘What is that?’

‘A letter from my agent in Alexandria[14], Mr Linton, telling me that my caravans across the Sinai Peninsula have recently been subject to raids.’

‘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?’