Page 39 of At the Sheikh's Bidding
“She told me of many things. She was close to her own grandmother, who was the last wife to live inside the harem. She had tales of those times.”
“Really? Are they written down? That’s strange because I haven’t heard of them.”
“No, they’re not written down. They were passed through the female line until it stopped. My father had three boys. So I guess as my grandmother had been landed with me to raise, she thought she might as well tell me. I don’t even think she told anyone else.”
“And you didn’t write them down.”
“No. But I remember them.”
“Will you tell me?”
“Of course.” It was the least he could do because at some point she’d discover what he knew already—that others had been here before her.
“That would be wonderful. You must tell me everything. We can’t lose this kind of information.”
“It’s not all about the diamond, you know.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s history that will be lost if it’s not written down. You owe it to your culture, to your past, to have it recorded.” She looked around at the exquisite wall paintings, depicting various scenes—both imaginary and historical, she suspected. “Do you know anything about the one with the eye above it?”
“Yes.” He pointed to the young girl pictured as entering the harem. “It’s the Queen you spoke of earlier. Queen Mandana. She was an old lady when my grandmother knew her. What you might not know is that she was a slave from Circassia, intended to be a slave for the king’s wife, but was so beautiful that the king eventually made her his principal wife. It was she who commissioned the painting. As you can imagine, the other women were not best pleased. Her trousseau would have included tiaras, bracelets and necklaces of gold and diamonds, and gold and silver plate. She must have been surprised at her good fortune.”
“Good fortune? You think being used as a chattel for a man is good fortune?”
He shrugged. “Better than being a slave, I’d have thought.”
Janey grunted. He suspected he had some way to go before she’d agree to marry him.
“Come on through, and I’ll show you the cabinet where the harem crown jewels are kept, and also the stairs which lead to the upper floor, where there’s access to the grille. We’ll be closer to the eye then, so we can see it better.”
They walked through another set of security doors and Amare started to take her to an inner room where the jewels were kept. But Janey was at the foot of the stairs, looking up.
“Can we check out the room first?”
“Sure.” It didn’t look as if he could prolong this for much longer. Although he could appreciate the theory was a novel one, he doubted very much if they’d find anything there.
“I’ve read about your grandmother’s grandmother. Her letters to members of European royalty and politicians have been published. She was a very intelligent woman. And cunning too.”
“So my grandmother said.”
“The women had a lot of time on their hands and, while some just played dominoes, smoked hashish or consoled themselves with each other, others, like Mandana, took a deep interest in politics and power. She exerted significant influence from inside the harem.”
“That fits with what my grandmother told me about her. She was here during unsettled times, when Lord Gleave was here.”
“I’m positive she wouldn’t have allowed him to leave with something as symbolically important to her country as the diamond. I just know it. It was at the same time that she had erected the tower room. It’s got to be here.”
Amare pulled open a sliding door which was invisible if you didn’t know it was there and it sprung open, revealing secret stairwell inside. He stepped aside for her.
With bright eyes, Janey peered up into the shadowy stairwell. “Have you been up here before?”
“Yes. Many years ago, when I was a boy exploring.”
“Did you find anything?”
“Nothing except dust. I assume anything of interest was long ago cleared out.”
“Oh, I don’t think anything precious was stored up there. That was the point. That was why I believe the diamond might be there. Because no one would expect it to be.”
He had to admit there was a kind of logic to that. He followed her up the winding stairs and then stood back. She peered up at the back of the eye, the front of which was visible from the reception room downstairs. Then she took out the drone, equipped with a camera, and sent it rising in the air into the ceiling space far above them, controlling its movements carefully and checking its view on her computer. He looked over her shoulder, intrigued by the different perspective.
