Sheba. Jack Higgins

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Sheba - Jack  Higgins


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It’s just that there’s something stirring at the back of my mind, something that could suit our purposes.’

      ‘Really?’ Canaris smiled and led the way up the steps, pausing at the door. ‘Well, that is good news, but sooner rather than later, Hans, remember that,’ and he led the way inside.

      It was perhaps an hour later and Canaris was seated at his desk working his way through a mass of papers, his two favourite dachshunds asleep in their basket in the corner, when there was a knock at the door and Ritter entered with a file in one hand and a rolled-up map under his arm. He limped forward, leaning on his stick.

      ‘Could I have a word, Herr Admiral, on this Suez Canal venture?’

      Canaris sat back. ‘So soon, Hans?’

      ‘As I said, there was something at the back of my mind, and when I got to my office I remembered. A report I received last month from a professor of archaeology here at the University, Professor Otto Muller. He’s recently returned from Southern Arabia. Intends to go back there soon. He needs additional funding.’

      ‘And what has this to do with us?’ Canaris asked.

      ‘As the Herr Admiral knows, all German citizens working abroad have to make a report to us here at Abwehr Headquarters of anything of an unusual nature that they may have come across.’

      ‘So?’

      ‘Allow me, Herr Admiral.’ Ritter went across to the map board on the far wall, unrolled the map under his arm and pinned it in place. It showed Egypt and the Suez Canal, the whole of Southern Arabia, the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden. ‘As you can see, Herr Admiral, the British in Aden, the Yemen and then various Arab states along the Gulf of Aden and the Indian Ocean, Dhofar and the Oman.’

      ‘Well?’ Canaris asked, examining the map.

      ‘You will notice Dahrein, a port on the Gulf coast. This is where Muller was working from. It belongs to Spain. Rather like Goa on the Indian coast. The Spaniards have been there for four hundred years.’

      ‘I can imagine what the place is like,’ Canaris said.

      ‘North across the border with Saudi Arabia is the Rubh al Khali, the Empty Quarter, one of the most awesome deserts on earth.’

      ‘And this is where Muller was operating?’

      ‘Yes, Herr Admiral.’

      ‘But what on earth was he doing?’

      ‘There are remains of many ancient civilizations in the area, inscriptions and graffiti on the rocks. Muller is an expert on ancient languages. He uses a latex solution to take impressions, which are brought back here to the University.’

      ‘And what has this to do with the Suez Canal, Hans?’

      ‘Bear with me, Herr Admiral. The area around there called Saba has long been associated with the Queen of Sheba.’

      ‘My God,’ Canaris said and returned to his desk. ‘Now it’s the Bible.’ He took a cigarette from a silver box. ‘I always understood that except for the biblical reference there has never been actual proof that she existed.’

      ‘Oh, she did exist, I can assure you,’ Ritter said. ‘There was a cult of the Arabian goddess. Asthar, their equivalent of Venus. In legend, the Queen of Sheba was high priestess of that cult and built a temple out there in the Empty Quarter.’

      ‘In legend,’ Canaris said.

      ‘Muller has found what he thinks could be the ruins of it, Herr Admiral. Naturally he kept his discovery quiet. Such an event would rival the discovery of Tutankhamen’s tomb in the Valley of the Kings. Archaeologists would descend from all over the world. As I said, he returned to Berlin for funding, but made a full description of his find in his report to Abwehr.’

      Canaris frowned. ‘But where is this leading?’

      ‘This place is unknown, Herr Admiral, hidden out there in the desert. Used for supplies, an aircraft, it could provide a base for a strike against the Canal.’

      Canaris got up and went to the map. He examined it and turned. ‘A thousand miles at least from that area to the Suez Canal.’

      ‘More like twelve hundred, Herr Admiral, but I’m sure I could find a way.’

      Canaris smiled. ‘You usually can, Hans. All right, bring Muller to see me.’

      ‘When, Herr Admiral?’

      ‘Why now, of course, tonight. I intend to sleep in the office anyway.’

      He returned to his papers and Ritter went out.

      Professor Otto Muller was a small, balding man with a wizened face tanned to the shade of old leather by constant exposure to the desert sun. When Ritter ushered him into the office to meet Canaris, Muller smiled nervously, exposing gold-capped teeth.

      Canaris said, ‘That will do, Hans.’ Ritter went out and Canaris lit a cigarette. ‘So, Professor, a remarkable find. Tell me about it.’

      Muller stood there like a nervous schoolboy. ‘I was lucky, Herr Admiral. I’ve been working in the Shabwa area for some time and one night an old Bedouin staggered into my camp dying of thirst and fever. I nursed him back to life.’

      ‘I see.’

      ‘They’re a strange people. Can’t bear to be in debt so he repaid me by telling me where Sheba’s temple was.’

      ‘Payment indeed. Tell me about it.’

      ‘I first saw it as an outcrop of reddish stone, out there in the vastness of the Empty Quarter. The Herr Admiral must understand that there are sand dunes out there that are hundreds of feet high.’

      ‘Remarkable.’

      ‘As I got closer we entered a gorge. I had two Bedouin with me as guards. We had journeyed by camel. There was a flat plain, very hard-baked, then a gorge, a broad avenue of pillars.’

      ‘And the temple? Tell me about that.’

      Which Muller did, talking for a good half-hour while Canaris listened intently. Finally the Admiral nodded. ‘Fascinating. Captain Ritter tells me you made an excellent report to Abwehr.’

      ‘I hope I know my duty, Herr Admiral, I’m a party member.’

      ‘Indeed,’ Canaris observed drily. ‘Then you will no doubt be pleased to return to this place with suitable funding and do what you are told to do. This is a project the Führer himself is interested in.’

      Muller drew himself up. ‘At your orders, Herr Admiral.’

      ‘Good.’ Canaris pressed a button on his desk. ‘We’ll keep you informed.’

      Ritter entered. ‘Herr Admiral?’

      ‘Wait outside, Professor,’ Canaris said, and waited until Muller had gone out. ‘He seems harmless enough, but I still have my doubts, Hans. If you used this place as a base it would require a flight of say twelve hundred miles to the Canal and what real damage could one bomber do? In fact, do we have a plane that could make the flight?’

      ‘I’ve already had a thought,’ Ritter said, ‘but I’d like to explore it further before sharing it with you.’

      Canaris frowned. ‘Is this serious business, Hans?’

      ‘I believe it could be, Herr Admiral.’

      ‘So be it.’ Canaris nodded. ‘I don’t need to tell you to squeeze Muller dry, details of this Dahrein place, how the Spanish run it and so on. At least they’re on our side, which could be useful.’

      ‘I’ll see to it, sir.’

      ‘At your soonest, Hans. A feasibility study. I’ll give you three days.’

      Ritter turned and limped out and Canaris went back to his papers.


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