Miranda bridled. ‘I’m not the one having second thoughts. I’m ready to help in any way. I’m a big girl, you know, Chris.’
Chris nodded. ‘You’ve just about nailed the profile of the guy I want to take a closer look at, only he’s not in transport or import-export. He’s into tourism in a big way. ‘Chris reached under the driver’s seat and pulled out a large buff-coloured envelope.
‘My secret orders?’
‘Very funny,’ said Chris as she removed a sheaf of papers. ‘His name is Hassan bin Zayid. He’s a Zanzibari-Omani or, to be precise, he’s half Omani-Arab. His father started with a cafe and guest house on Zanzibar and expanded onto the Tanzanian mainland. The old man married an English flight attendant. The son inherited his mother’s good looks and his father’s taste in western women.’
‘How do
