African Designs
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It was quiet in the passenger compartment of Augustus's car for long minutes after we left the Tamarind Tree restaurant, apart from the shushing of the pistons and the hiss of steam. Augustus had advised Miles, his driver, to employ a slow steady pace but keep the steam pressure high, in case we needed a sudden burst of speed. Finally, Augustus asked softly, "Are they behind us now?" I had been watching our rear carefully since we departed the restaurant, frequently glancing furtively through the porthole at the rear of the cabin. "I believe we have a steam car on our tail," I answered, "It is staying a long way behind and making no attempt at passing us, despite our modest pace. And there is a cyclist, too, keeping much closer, who appears to be riding without lights of any kind. I might be mistaken about the cyclist." "I see." Augustus pulled out a pocket-watch and flipped open the lid, then tapped on the brass-framed window which separated us from the driver and stoker at the front. "Miles, take us to the to the Madubaha ferry now, as quickly as possible." "Yes sir. Although that is not the direct route to the lady's home." "No matter. Best speed to the ferry, please." He was quite right, of course. My father's house, as well as my new residence still under construction and Mister Montague's home too were all on the mainland, well inland from the creek with its deep anchorages and bustling ports and persistent mosquitoes. The acceleration of the car was enough to throw us both back against the padded leather of the seats. They must have already begun to loosen the ropes which tied the ferry to the stone ramp. The ferry crew were alerted to our rapid approach by our bright headlamps, not to mention blasts of the steam whistle. At this late hour, the ferry was not full - most unlike the middle of the day, when lengthy queues form regularly - and we were able to drive onto the ship itself before it had moved more than a few inches. The steam car behind, if it was truly following us, must have been taken by surprise by our sudden acceleration and immediately fell well behind. The cyclist, being closer, reacted more quickly and, with a superhuman effort from the rider, managed to keep pace with us. As I watched, it splashed through the water and just succeeded on reaching the steel plating of the deck. The seawater must have affected the brakes of the bicycle, which slid and slithered up the ramp, nearly colliding with our car and coming to rest alongside our rear quarter. The rider's exhausted face was just a few inches from my own, on the other side of the glass, but just for a moment, then both rider and bicycle disappeared; the bike over the side, as likely as not, and the erstwhile rider mingling with the hundreds of foot passengers which even now thronged the forward part of the ferry. "Would you recognise him again?" Augustus asked. "Certainly," I replied, "Will that help us?" "Perhaps," he said opaquely before adding more cheerfully, "But for now, let us get you home." I nodded. Apart from the ferry we were now aboard, there are just two routes from Mombasa proper: the Likoni Ferry on the far side of the island or the Makupa causeway, the new link to central parts of the mainland. Augustus tapped again on the glass. "Miles, the causeway and then the lady's home. Best speed, if you please." "Very good, sir." I was delivered to my front door without further incident; there was no sign of the other car. As Augustus politely walked me to the door, he asked, "May I call upon you in two days’ time, in the morning?" I turned to face him. "You are always welcome," I replied, a smile on my face. He bowed and kissed my hand just as my butler opened the door. A few days later, I was at my writing desk when the butler announced the arrival of Mister Montague, as promised, 'and another man'. I confess I gasped when they were shown into my withdrawing room; the other man's face I had last seen pressed up against the steam-car window. "Miss Elizabth, this is Kamau," Montague said, "I can see that you recognise him." I nodded, not yet trusting myself to speak. Kamau bowed politely, although clearly a little uncomfortable in such grand surroundings or perhaps from meeting face-to-face the person he had been directed to covertly follow. "Tell us, please, what you discovered about Miss Elizabeth's habits over the last few weeks," Montague went on, "And I can assure you that we are more interested in the information you have than in any perceived impoliteness." "That is correct," I manage to say. To the man's credit, he spoke clearly and coherently for ten minutes, and correctly identified everywhere I had been, including Madame Liu Lai-Fung's studio for martial arts. I was surprised at this last point: I had never heard Madame Liu's full name spoken before. "Thank you, Kamau," I said, when he had come to a halt, "For your clarity and perseverance." Kamau bowed again. "I think we have trespassed on your time for long enough," Montague suggested. I rang the little bell which sits on my escritoire. "I promised to return Kamau to the city," Montague went on, just as my butler entered, "But, with your permission, I would like to return later on." "Of course. Why not come for lunch," I offered, "You are always welcome." "I would be delighted." The butler nodded once, acknowledging the invitation and acceptance, then held the door so that the two men could leave.
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Part 3