Chapters (54)
- Cover
- About the Author
- Also by Laura Madeleine
- Dedication
- Praise for Laura Madeleine and her novels:
- Epigraph
- Part One
- Blood and Sand
- Tangier
- Have a Heart
- Tangier
- Bull Shot
- Tangier
- Alabazam
- Tangier
- Bloodhound
- Tangier
- Continental Sour
- Tangier
- Affinity
- Part Two
- Tangier
- White Lion
- Tangier
- Fedora
- Tangier
- BARBARY COAST
- Tangier
- Hop Toad
- Tangier
- Part Three
- Third Degree
- Tangier
- Twin Six
- Tangier
- Corpse Reviver No. 1
- Tangier
- Temptation
- Tangier
- Sangaree
- Tangier
- None But the Brave
- Tangier
- Between the Sheets
- Tangier
- Scofflaw
- Tangier
- Shanghai
- Tangier
- Old Pal
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgements
- The Secrets Between Us
- Where The Wild Cherries Grow
Soon, the house began to rattle with laughter and music and the boisterousness of those who were the first to arrive. I stood behind the bar, my outfit hidden by a long white server’s jacket and apron. The drinks I made were strong and cold and perfect for throats parched with road dust. I watched as they were thrown back, one after another.
Langham seemed to be everywhere, during those first hours; smoking on the veranda with gentlemen, winding up the gramophone, allowing ladies to exclaim and touch his curled hair and try to win the hibiscus from his lapel. Everyone wanted to be near him. I, on the other hand – who could have been his twin – was invisible behind my tray. The apron and serving jacket relegated me to a piece of furniture, beneath notice. Only those who had been at Langham’s party the night of my arrival glanced my way, some – men and women both – with curiosity.
By the time the clock struck eleven, the party was in full, wild swing. Hilde was pale under her powder, her smile painted on. Langham too had started to sweat in the hot night – unusual for him.
I knew why. ‘Colonel Mayer’ had asked to meet Langham at the far end of the port at one o’clock. Of course, we all knew who would truly be waiting there. Whenever I thought about it, I felt sick.
‘What will you do to Cabrera?’ I had whispered earlier, in the safety of the study. ‘Will you kill him?’
Langham had turned away.
‘It’s better you don’t know.’
‘I have to know.’ I moved until I could look into his eyes. ‘Cabrera is the only one who can connect me to the Señor’s murder. He could hold that over me, for years. He could use it to blackmail me again …’
Langham put his hand against my cheek. ‘He won’t do anything, after tonight.’
Hearing that cold promise, I shivered. I wanted Cabrera silenced. I wanted him gone. Langham would do that for me.
When it was nearing midnight, he sought me out, under the pretence of giving orders. ‘The mahjoun,’ he muttered. ‘Go and get more, for god’s sake. They’re far too sober yet. This is like trying to drown fish.’