I returned my attention to my work.
Quite a good idea, it appeared: I had been so distracted that I hadn’t noticed I had tried to stuff a bunch of files into the open mouth of some wooden African totem. Hurriedly I removed them and started looking for their proper container.
For the next few minutes I busied with the files. Then I suddenly heard footsteps approaching the door of the safe. Yet before I could panic and begin to wonder what they wanted with me, I heard Karim’s voice.
‘Not in there, Warren.’
‘But Mr Ambrose said to search everywhere.’
‘Everywhere in this office. Not in the safe. There is…’ Karim’s voice dropped to a whisper as he explained something to Warren. I didn’t exactly hear everything, but I thought I caught the word ‘Ifrit’.
‘Really?’ Warren whispered. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I saw it with my own eyes,’ Karim assured him.
‘Right in there? In the safe room?’
‘Indeed. So you see you had better not…’
‘Of course! I’ll steer clear of it, don't you worry.’
For the following few minutes my fantasies changed from strangling Mr Ambrose to braining Karim with a wooden African totem. In the end I suppose the difference didn’t much matter. Men! They were all the same.
During the following hours I worked ceaselessly, clearing up the mess my dear master had left behind. He wouldn’t have an excuse to accuse me of slacking, oh no! The task actually wasn’t as hard as I had feared. All the folders strewn over the floor were numbered. Since I had already fully grasped the sorting system, and the one here in the safe was simply an extension of that in my office, I got on quickly, and orderly rows of boxes grew on the shelves.
Finally, the door to my office opened and I heard his unmistakable voice.
‘Are you done, Warren?’
‘Nearly, Mr Ambrose.’
‘As soon as you’re done here, prepare your men for a little trip, by which I do not mean a stroll in the park. Do we understand each other?’
‘Yes, Mr Ambrose.’
‘Very well. I shall join you in a minute, as soon as I’ve seen how my little Ifrit is doing.’
‘Your what, Sir?’
‘Forget what I said, Warren.’
‘Yessir!’
His little Ifrit? I supposed I should have been outraged, him calling me names and all, but for some strange reason I felt warm inside. Maybe because of my flaming wings, who knew?
Mr Ambrose had obviously not intended for me to hear his words. Quickly and quietly I closed the door to the safe room, just as he had left it, and retreated to a corner, a demure little smile on my face as I looked around the room. All right, maybe the smile wasn’t totally demure. Maybe it was even a little bit self-satisfied. So what?
The door was pushed open and Mr Ambrose entered. ‘I will be leaving on the search soon,’ he began. ‘So sorry that you are occupied and can’t come with us. How many hours do you think you will still need to finish your…’
As his eyes adjusted to the gloom of the safe-room, his voice trailed off.
‘You were saying?’ I inquired sweetly.
Slowly, Mr Ambrose’s gaze wandered over the long rows of impeccably ordered boxes on the shelves of the safe room. He bent to examine the floor, maybe in the hope that he could find a stray piece of paper still lying somewhere, or at least a few flecks of dust.
When he finally straightened again, his eyes fixed on me.
‘You are finished?’
‘Yes. Why?’ I fluttered my eyelashes at him. ‘Were you by any chance expecting me to take longer?’
‘No,’ he lied smoothly. ‘In fact I was expecting you to be finished long ago. Don’t be so lazy again, or I will have to reduce your wages.’
‘Well, well.’ I glared at him, even though for some strange reason, inside I wasn’t feeling angry. Somehow I knew he was only putting on a show, and I was dancing in triumph. ‘You had better stop or you’ll drown me in compliments for my work.’
‘Don’t be afraid,’ he assured me. ‘That will never, ever happen.’
I could readily believe it.
‘Mr Ambrose?’ The man called Warren appeared at the door to the safe room. He was an average-looking fellow with a thin moustache and a high forehead. Spotting me, he looked at me curiously for a second. Then his gaze returned to our master. ‘We’re ready to go, Sir.’
‘I see.’ Mr Ambrose’s voice was as cool as could be. ‘Warren, I think you haven’t met before?’ He indicated me. ‘This…’ he swallowed as