Chapter 2

The Ford staff car pulled up outside the small shop front in the poorer part of Alexandria. A weather-beaten sign announced it as the Egyptian Curio and Memorabilia Bazaar.

Shaun climbed out of the back as Titch and Sargent Blake extracted themselves from the front.

“Let me do the talking,” he warned the two as he opened the door.

The shop was cluttered with phony Egyptian artefacts, German and Italian medals, uniform parts and webbing plus helmets and Afrika Korps caps. Junk that the Bedouin had found at the various battles and skirmishes that had taken place which somehow had all arrived here.

Shaun knew that Ali did a thriving business with the officers and men who, because of their position in the rear areas, were never likely to hear a shot fired in anger. They were keen to buy something that would prove what a warrior they had been when they returned home. What was on display, was only a fraction of what Ali kept in the back room where the good stuff was.

At the sound of the bell that hung over the door Ali appeared. For once he didn’t appear so happy to see customers.

“Ah, Lieutenant Ramage, your commanding officer said I should be seeing you today.” He said something to his assistant, then indicated to Shaun to follow him into his office.

“You will take coffee with me please,” he murmured has they passed into his office.

The room was small, cluttered with ledges and bric-a-brac. Ali indicated a chair to Shaun as he fitted his bulk into a leather chair behind his desk.

Ali was about fifty, Shaun thought. The start of the war had given him the chance to become rich and Ali had seized that chance. After two years of war in North Africa there was no aspect of it that Ali didn’t have a finger in the pie of it. He ran the black market, the brothels, and the procurement of items that couldn’t be obtained anywhere else. He kept on the right side the law by giving information to the military which had led to the arrest of at least two Italian spies that Shaun knew off. Now, sitting in front of him in his rumpled white linen suit and red fez on, he looked strangely uncomfortable.

“I had a phone call from Captain Frazer yesterday regarding a certain item that you are most anxious to obtain. Alas, I have tried all my contacts to try and assist you in this matter but unfortunately I have had no success.” He paused, wiping his thick lips with his tongue.

“However it has come to my attention that there may be a way to help you. It seems that a truck of the kind you use had unfortunately lost its way when it was unloaded from the ship it arrived on. It seems that the vehicle was intended for the RAF. Perhaps it would be possible for you to take what parts you need from it?”