similar goods. “But better still, I think I have hit upon our first business venture.”
“First let me get something to wear,” said Friday, heading off toward a nearby haberdashery.
I grabbed his arm, hooking it in my own, and kept walking. “Coals to Newcastle,” I said. “I'm going to dress you from head to toe.”
“What are you talking about?” demanded Friday, with a suspicious look on his face.
“Brother Friday, just put yourself and your economic future in my hands,” I said reassuringly. “I promise that by nightfall you'll be the warmest man in all Egypt.”
“This isn't going to hurt, is it?” he asked warily.
“Not a bit, Brother Friday.”
“You're sure?” he persisted.
“Brother, the only thing that's getting hurt around here is my feelings when I see this lack of trust on your face,” I told him. “Now let's get to work.”
We began by hunting up a notions shop and buying a couple of hundred feet of bright white bandages. Then we found a little storefront smack-dab in the middle of the Avenue of the Pharaohs and plunked down a pound for a week's rent.
“Now what?” asked Friday as we unloaded our bandages into the empty store.
“Now you take a few shillings,” I said, “and go out shopping for a couple of pieces of white cardboard and a can of paint.”
“And what will you be doing?”
“Friday, you are the most suspicious partner a mortal man ever did have!” I complained. “I'm just going out to do a little serious thinking. I keep feeling that we need a little something else, but I can't quite put my finger on what it is.”
He muttered some gibberish in Swahili and stalked off to make his purchases, while I, deciding that I could think better on my feet than sitting in the store, began walking up and down the winding streets of Cairo. I guess I had gone about half a mile when a small but very rounded figure shot out of a doorway and grabbed me by the hand.
“I have lost my heart to you, noble sir!” she breathed, her dark eyes shimmering above the veil that obscured the rest of her face—and suddenly it dawned on me exactly what our little business venture was lacking.
“It ain't nothing to be ashamed of,” I admitted, smiling down at her. “Lots of ladies have felt even stronger emotions on less notice, me being a Christian and a gentleman, and an American to boot.”
“I am overcome by an all-pervading desire to give of myself freely to you!” she whispered.
“Freely, you say?” I repeated, as she began leading me into the doorway from which she had emerged.
“Well,” she said, modestly dropping her gaze, “there is a small handling and cover charge. as well as an entertainment tax.”
“Sister,” I said, still smiling at her, “I have a feeling that you and me were meant for each other.”
“Good,” she said, and from the way her eyes kind of crinkled up at the corners I knew she was returning my grin. “Shall we get the crass commercial details over with?”
“Suits me fine,” I agreed. “Of course, I ain't got any money, but...”
“Oh, damn!” she snapped, stamping her little foot in rage. “Not another one!”
“I do have a counteroffer to make, though,” I said.
“Forget it,” she said. “Why don't you go back to sweeping them off their feet in Peoria or Biloxi or some other backwater where paupers can—”
“Where'd you ever hear of them places?” I interrupted.
“Where do you suppose?” she said, ripping the veil from her face.
“Why, you're a white woman!” I exclaimed. “What in blazes are you doing here?”
“I'm an entertainer.”
“I can see that,” I said admiringly.
“I mean a nightclub entertainer.”
“Then how—?” I began.
“There are only two nightclubs in town,” she explained. “I played for a week in each. That made me about a tenth of what I need to get back home. And now,” she added, putting her veil back over her face, “if you'll excuse me, I've got to get back to
Margaret Maron
Richard S. Tuttle
London Casey, Ana W. Fawkes
Walter Dean Myers
Mario Giordano
Talia Vance
Geraldine Brooks
Jack Skillingstead
Anne Kane
Kinsley Gibb