Chivambo had met Malacoda’s foxy companion earlier. When Malacoda first came into town to see to his hidden ship, he had brought her by Chivambo’s office.

Chivambo had kissed her hand and said, “Hello, welcome to Nacala. Please make yourself comfortable. My door is open to you anytime. Consider that an open invitation.”

Chivambo had four current wives and two former wives. He was always on the lookout for lucky number seven. Today, he had come to Minguri to talk to Malacoda about Daniel and the suspicious Doctor Sudbø. As he walked into their office in the abandoned treatment plant, he found it empty.

“Is anyone here?” He called out.

He also rapped his fist loudly on the desk. To his pleasant surprise, Shenouda rather than Malacoda, sauntered into the room. Shenouda noticed the effect that she had on him. Chivambo had grown accustomed to being feared and respected by men as well as women. It was culturally acceptable and even commendable among his tribe for a wealthy man to take on a number of wives and to support as wide a circle of women and children as his resources would allow. His resources were vast. Shenouda, who had led a humble life in the Cairo slums and the digsite kitchen until Ghaelvord begun inflating her ego, felt simultaneously flattered and indignant toward his overtures.

“Shenouda, what a pleasant surprise.” He exclaimed. “You look just as ravishing as you did the first time we met. You never have been back to see me. Why is that?”

Her lively grey eyes contrasted sharply with her tan Egyptian skin. Something about the way she walked set his hairs on edge. She struck him as captivatingly desirable, yet distant and aloof. She was an alluring mystery.

She flashed him a coquettish smile. “How charming. What would you do if I took you up on that invitation?” She asked rhetorically.

The prickling sensation affected her fingers and toes.

“I would show you the city. You would be my guest at the Nacala Yacht Club.” He suggested.

She sidled up close to him and took a deep breath. She could smell the warm blood through his noxious cologne. She snapped herself out of her reverie and backed off.

“What brings you here Mister Chivambo?” She asked.

“I would like to have words with your associate. Is he here?”

“You can have words with me.” She said.

She did not care for Malacoda. She got the sense that he did not care for her either. Also, she was bored. The boredom caused her to do get creative.

“There is nothing I would like more than to have words with you. Something has come up though, something regarding the ship. I must speak to either your yellow-eyed associate or his pale friend.” Chivambo said, striking a serious tone.

“You do not know their names do you?” She asked.

“I suppose they would prefer it that way.” He said.

“Oh, I doubt they mind. Come on now. What is it? You can tell me. Actually, you should tell me. Malacoda, the yellow-eyed one, works for me. So, you see. You must tell me.” Shenouda’s newly-discovered mischievous side set in.

She watched the large man consider his next move carefully. She flashed another coquettish smile and he caved in.

“Very well.” He told her the story about the inquiries and the rumor of the ghost ship.

He warned her of the danger of foreigners getting close to the truth.

“It doesn’t sound like they know anything.” Shenouda said.

“They probably don’t.” He replied.

An idea struck her, “I’d like to meet them. Could you arrange it?”

“I suppose so.” He said. “They left their hotel information in case I had any other information for them.”

“Do it.” She ordered. “By the way, do not bother Malacoda with this. He doesn’t have time for these trivial issues.”

As Chivambo left, Shenouda wondered who the inquirers were. Was someone out there in the world who knew what Ghaelvord was up to? What would they be like? She wanted to hear what they had to say. She smiled at the thought of knowing something that Ghaelvord and Malacoda did not know. She would have leverage over them. In any case, it was better than being bored.