Nightmare in Morocco (20 page)

"Do you really own so many homes?"

"Yes
.
Also," he added teasingly,
"I have gold in sunken ships in the Mediterranean
.
I have treasures hidden under rocks."

His mention of rocks caused an image to arise in Noa's mind of the small square inside the medina at Fez where Wendell Carlson had been almost killed
.
She saw clearly the loose stones set in the columns of the fountain there
.
It suddenly occurred to her why the police had found no weapon
.
The attacker had taken the time to set the stone back into the fountain!
She didn't know enough about fingerprinting to determine whether or not they could be taken from stone, but she did know from past experience that the thief wore no gloves
.
The very minute she returned to Fez, she would check the rocks of the fountain
.
She felt certain she would find one of them stained with Wendell's blood!

"This is not a monastery," Taber smiled. "You don't have to begin deep meditation."
He smiled at her as they passed into a patio where lush plants hung from the ceiling and set in great pots on the tiled floor.

"There's a swimming pool in back,"
Taber said
.
"I thought you would like to cool off while I start dinner."

"Dinner?"

"I called ahead and everything this chef needs is here."

His arms encircled her again
.
She was pressed so close against him she could feel the pounding of his heart. "I hope you don't mind," he said, his lips against her hair
.
"I dismissed the household so we could be alone!"

This time when he kissed her there was no haste
.
Gently, slowly, his lips moved against hers until she became ignited with a passion she had never before felt so strongly
.
At first she gave into the wonder of it, held him just as tightly as he held her, then remembering her doubts of him, struggled to free herself.

Taber gave a quick, low laugh as she slipped away.

"My dining room," he said, following her into a dim, cool area with a crudely hewn table surrounded by massive chairs
.
Beyond it was a room with a pool, composed entirely of gleaming, blue tile
.
"How beautiful!"

"So are you
.
But no time for romance, I have to cook
.
We're having our national dish, couscous
chicken,
raisins my
specialty
.
As he spoke he wandered into the pool area and from a wardrobe lifted a swim suit which he offered to her
.
"I never guess wrong around sizes
.
There's a bedroom to the right where you can change
.
I'll join you in a little while."

Tired and sweaty from smolderingly hot sun, and with the smell of the camel hovering over her, she could not resist the call of the cool water
.
In spite of her better judgment, Noa slipped into the deep red swim suit
.
It did fit perfectly
.
The color had to have been selected to match her dark hair
.
Had he ordered it, as he had ordered the groceries, all part of a careful plan?

Noa dived into the water
.
She felt comforted by the coolness of the contact and lulled from her apprehension
.
She swam the length of the pool and back, returned to the shallow side and stood up, water streaming from her hair
.
For a moment amid the dazzling beauty she felt relaxed and strangely happy.

At last, thinking she should help Taber with the meal, she found a towel on a chair beside the pool and wiped her hair
.
Back in the bedroom where she had changed, Noa found a velvet robe that was no doubt Taber's
.
She saw by the great mirror beside the bed how badly entangled her hair had become from the drying
.
When she opened a drawer to look for a brush, her eyes fell upon a picture frame that lay face down as if someone had hastily removed it from the dresser.

Forewarned by a sense of awful dread, she lifted the frame
.
She turned it around slowly and stared at the three faces in the picture, a slight dizziness replacing her recent contentment
.
A picture of Taber, smiling, handsome
.
Beside him was a beautiful, dark woman, her arm encircling a small, wide eyed boy
.
The little boy, three of four years old, looked exactly like Taber!

Noa recalled how rapidly she had dismissed Ali Balsam's explicit reference to Taber's wife!
A clear enough warning
one she had put aside without another thought
how stupid!
Belda's words rang in her ears, "They have wives all over the place!"

Her momentary illness was replaced by anger
.
It affected her vision, caused the picture to become hazy and unclear
.
Anger mingled with hurt, as if she had been stabbed in the stomach with a Moroccan dagger
.
Married!
How could Taber do this to her?

Of course he was married!
Why else would he have houses in so many cities?

Noa's anger turned to rage
.
She wanted to confront him, to do him some physical harm that would make him realize what his deceit had done to her!
Instead she struggled into her jeans and blouse and slipped swiftly, quietly into the dining area, now filled with a fragrant smell of spices.

Outside the camel waited under the palm trees
.
He ignored her hurried approach, remained stubbornly motionless, except for a slight movement of his mouth
.
She would never be able to get him to stand, let alone persuade him to take her back to Marrakech!

What of it?
She would rather walk anyway!

* * *

Walking in the blazing sun cooled Noa's anger
.
By the time Taber's house was out of sight, she was beginning to wonder if she should have at least told him that she was leaving
.
He would have missed her by now.

A cloud of dust covered the empty roadway, and Noa had visions of Taber coming after her, sweeping her off her feet and taking her back to the house
.
In spite of logic, a part of her heart wished that he would
.
Why hadn't she had the courage to confront him with the picture?
Had she been afraid he would convince her that no matter how many wives he had, she was the one that belonged in his arms.

The thought of his kiss made her melt like ice cream in the hot sunlight
.
Taber was not only married, but had probably
received the money his father had stolen from
Carlson
Rand Tours!
Moreover, he might very well be involved in the robbery of Belda's ring
.
Noa wanted no relationship with a polygamous jewel
thief
!
No matter how handsome and enticing he could be!

The cloud of dust became a visible object, a Berber farmer and two daughters taking rugs to market in an old wagon
.
With gestures that needed no words, he offered her a ride
.
She accepted, climbing into the back of the wagon to sit upon the rugs with two shyly smiling girls, their hands and faces dotted with black ink designs in traditional Berber fashion
.

The slow, jarring movement of the ancient wagon still seemed preferable to the back of the camel
.
She gazed toward the Atlas Mountains across the pinkish glare of sand and tried not to think of Taber
.
In no time, the serrated, rose colored walls of Marrakesh appeared
.
The farmer stopped at the edge of the square, letting Noa out only a short distance away from where Taber had rented the camels
.
She thanked him in English and he waved in an exaggerated, American fashion.

Noa moved reluctantly into the bizarre gathering of snake charmers, acrobats, and organ grinders, which made up the famous Marrakesh square
.
At first she was pleased with its fairy tale quality, like a circus set beneath desert sun, but as she advanced, she felt enclosed and a little threatened.

Through the jostling crowd, Noa suddenly spotted Greg and Cathy, heads bent together as if immersed in serious conversation
.
She gratefully edged
forward
to join them where they had stopped in front of a snake charmer.

"Noa!
I didn't expect to see you here," Greg said
.
"I was just trying to talk Cathy into getting her picture taken with that snake."

"No way!" Cathy protested. "I hate snakes!"
For all her reluctance, she seemed definitely tempted
.
Noa saw the curious look in her eyes as the snake charmer lifted the smaller of the snakes from a basket at his feet and held it out to her
.
Of course Cathy would be fascinated by any suggestion of danger
.
"What if it bites me?"

"I'll bet Noa a dollar that you don't have the guts to do it!" Greg laughed.

"You're on!"
Noa tried to catch their playful spirit. "My niece is the bravest girl in Morocco!
She wouldn't be bothered by any poisonous cobra."

Cathy took a deep breath and shuddered
.
Silver bracelets jingled on her wrists as she raised one arm
.
"All right, I'll do it!
But, please, Greg
.
Take the picture fast!"

With a gap toothed smile, the gaunt, dark skinned man in his white robes draped the snake over Cathy's shoulders, bare except for the thin straps of her halter top
.
"Ooh, I hate you guys for this!
Cold and slimy and
awful!"
Cathy closed her eyes, opening them just long enough for Greg to snap his picture
.
But when the old man removed the snake, she was smiling.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"I'm willing to try anything once!" Cathy said, hugging her bare shoulders the snake had touched
.
"I just can't get that creepy feeling off of me
.
I feel like he's still there, wrapped around my neck
.
Let's go back to the hotel for a swim!"

"I just got here," Greg said.

"I've been walking around for hours
.
I'm hot and my skin feels creepy
.
I'm going back."

"I'll go with you," Noa volunteered.

"I can find my way."

 
"Let her go
.
She'll be fine," Greg interceded
.
"She got down here on her own."

As Cathy
disappeared
into the crowd, Noa asked, "Where did you meet up with her?"

"That's a great story in itself."
Greg pointed to some women selling the kind of bracelets Cathy wore
.
"I had to
rescue
her from that pack!"

"This is the first time I've seen women in Morocco out selling."

"If you call that selling
.
One of the women told Cathy the bracelets were a gift, put them on her arm, then demanded payment
.
She wouldn't take them back, and wouldn't let Cathy go until she paid her something for them
.
They were yelling and screaming at each other!
Cathy didn't have any money, so I had to bail her out."

"Let me pay for the bracelets."

"The cost was nothing
.
The excitement enough to last all day."
As they continued to walk, Greg pulled out a guide book. "They call this square d Jemma el Fna
.
The "Streets of the Dead" or the "Concourse of Sinners."

"This is nice, having someone else giving the information for once," Noa said
.
"Why do they call it the "Streets of the Dead?"

"At one time criminals were executed here, and their heads impaled on stakes at the corners of the square."

"I think I prefer the other name, "Concourse of Sinners."
Greg glanced at the motley crowd surrounding them
.
"That would better fit
.
I'd hate to be alone here at night. This place must be swarming with pick pockets!"