The peaceful atmosphere outside seemed at odds with what they had left behind. Out here, the sun was shining in a clear blue sky, seagulls sailed screeching over the harbor, and the masts of the anchored ships bobbed gently in the breeze.
They all jumped when a little boy’s voice squeaked behind them, “Is the gentleman coming out too?”
A little Arab boy approached. He was holding the reins of a mule carrying two packing crates.
“What gentleman are you talking about?” André asked.
“Why, the tall one, with the black djellaba. I’m watching his mule,” the little one replied earnestly. “What was all that noise inside?” He tried to peer inside.
Emily gasped.
But John replied, “Something fell over, that’s all,” and quickly closed the door.
Sibylla looked at the mule. “Benjamin mentioned that he was leaving Mogador tomorrow morning. This must be his luggage.”
“Then we had better take a look inside,” said André.
“I’ll take care of that.” John fished a few coins out of his jacket pocket and held them out to the boy. “The gentleman is not coming. But I’ll give you these if you’ll run to the governor’s office. Tell the guard that John Hopkins must meet Qaid Samir in the harbor regarding some important business.”
“But what about the mule?” the boy objected.
“I’ll take care of it. Now run along!”
“It must have been providence that brought all four of you at just the right moment,” said Sibylla when they sat in the salon having tea and biscuits and waiting for John.
She was sitting on the divan, propped against several cushions, next to Emily, who had a cold compress on her neck. Sabri had placed it there for her. The young physician had not left Emily’s side and continued to give her concerned looks.
Victoria sat up very straight, trying to maintain her composure. Only her fingers, which kept turning her teacup, betrayed how difficult it was for her to comprehend the outrageous news she had just heard.
“You were providence, Monsieur Rouston.” Thomas smiled at André.
When Sibylla looked confused, he explained, “Monsieur Rouston came here to visit Emily. When he ran into John and me, he suggested that we all go to meet the two of you. And on the way, we met Sabri coming from his office.” Thomas nodded to Sabri.
“I missed you so much that I didn’t care that we weren’t supposed to see each other,” Sabri confessed and lovingly caressed Emily’s curls.
“Thank goodness!” she answered softly.
Sibylla kept stirring her tea. “What could have brought you to Mogador before the wedding?” she asked André.
“Ah, yes!” He nodded. “The sheikh of the Ait Zelten came to tell me that his sons had killed the men who attacked the estate. They also found out that there was a mastermind behind the assault and he was hiding somewhere in Mogador. I immediately came to see the qaid and ask for his help. But, of course, the mastermind is now dead.”
They heard voices and steps outside. John entered. “The packing crates have revealed some surprises,” he announced and gestured to Hamid, directly behind him. The gatekeeper was carrying four linen sacks, which he placed in the middle of the room.
“I cannot believe it!” André cried. “Benjamin stole my saffron from your office!” He had immediately recognized the Qasr el Bahia imprint on the sacks. He quickly opened one and took out a handful of tiny red-gold pistils while shaking his head.
Sibylla was thunderstruck. Yet another disgraceful deed of her husband’s.
Then John placed the cash box on the table in front of his mother. “The lock was broken, but I’ve counted the money. Most of it is still there. I also found this.” He pulled a leather portfolio out of his jacket and handed it to his mother.
“I hope this is not another nasty surprise!” she muttered.
“Take your time,” he said.
She opened the portfolio and found several papers with the letterhead of a well-known London law firm. The top page had the words “Sales Contract” written in large letters and bore many stamps and signatures. She immediately recognized Benjamin’s.
“Well, Mother, what is it?” Thomas inquired anxiously.
“It’s a contract for a sugar plantation in Cuba that Benjamin purchased.” She took another piece of paper with an outline map of Cuba with a large X marked to show the location of the plantation and handed it to Thomas. There were also inventories: lists of equipment and lists of slaves.
“It appears to be a large plantation. He had, however, made only an initial payment,” Sibylla concluded. “Benjamin was going to pay the balance once he arrived in Cuba.”
“I’ve taken the liberty of looking at the papers as well, Mother,” John interjected, “and I questioned a few sailors at the harbor right away. At this time, there is only one ship anchored in the harbor destined for Cuba: the Infanta Isabella, a Spanish ship that is leaving early tomorrow.”
“I know the ship!” Sibylla exclaimed. “She set sail just before Christmas, got caught in a storm, and only just made it back to Mogador. One of the masts was broken, the sails were torn. And she had sprung a leak. It took all winter to make her seaworthy again.”
“And if he had not been forced to wait these months, today’s terrible events would not have transpired,” André added. “I only wonder where he’s been hiding all this time.”
“Qaid Samir is starting an investigation,” John reassured everyone. “And he’s also having the body buried in the Christian cemetery in front of the city wall. That’s what you want, isn’t it, Mother?”
Sibylla cleared her throat. “Yes, yes, of course. You did the right thing.”
“As his widow, I suppose you are now the owner of a sugar plantation in Cuba,” Thomas declared.
“A sugar plantation that has not been paid for yet,” Sibylla corrected him.
“Why did Hopkins not travel directly from London to Cuba?” Sabri wanted to know. “Did he expect to come by some money here to finance the plantation?”
“I believe I can explain that.” Sibylla took a deep breath, steeling herself to divulge the secret she would rather have kept buried forever. “Your father traded not only in leather, spices, and ivory, but also in human beings.”
Little by little, she told the whole story. She began with Benjamin’s arrest by Qaid Hash-Hash, then told how André had managed to get her an audience with Sultan Abd al-Rahman and that she fought for Benjamin’s release because she had believed in his innocence, and how, only a short time later, she had learned the terrible truth when Thomas’s marble fell under the damaged foundation of the sundial.
“Then, last October, he came back for his blood money.”