"Lost your watch or something?" queried the officer nonchalantly, as they got in.
"You've guessed it in one," answered Biggles evenly, responding to the man's mood.
The officer was as good as his word and put them down at Police Headquarters.
Chapter 13
A Thief To Catch A Thief
Biggles and Algy found a Major Grattan on duty. In his private office Biggles introduced himself and Algy and showed their special C.I.D. passes. These, as the saying is, made the Major sit up and take notice.
" It must be something pretty serious to bring you out here," he observed, looking hard at Biggles. "We've heard of you, of course. That Abyssinian affair, which you cleaned up, made a bit of a stir in this part of the world. The Department is at your service. What can I do for you? "
Biggles smiled faintly. "I have an unusual request to make," he answered. "I want you to tell me the name and address of the cleverest housebreaker in Cairo."
The Major stared, as well he might. "You want a burglar? "
"That's right—a fellow who can open locked doors." Suddenly the Major laughed. "Well, you've certainly come to the right place," he asserted. "I should say in that respect Cairo can hold its own with any city in the world. You're in luck.
It so happens that our most brilliant exponent is right on the spot. We had occasion to pick him up last night on suspicion ... loitering with intent—you know? "
" Nothing definite against him?"
"Actually—no."
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"Then if he did a good job for us you might let him off with a caution?"
"It could be arranged, no doubt."
"What's his name?"
"Abdullah ibn Abu."
"A native!"
"An Arab. A quaint character—likeable in a way. He'd be a good type if only he could keep out of mischief."
"Does he speak English?"
"Oh yes. Would you like me to have him brought in.
"Thanks."
The Major touched a bell. It was answered by an orderly. He went out, and presently returned with a tall, portly, middle-aged Arab, whose dignified poise was well matched by an expression of utter indifference.
Laying a hand on his heart he looked at the Major and said gravely, in a deep sonorous voice: "Effendi, as ever I am at thy command."
The Major indicated Biggles. "Abdullah, here is an officer who seeks a service in the business in which you excel.
Serve him well and you will be rewarded. When the matter is ended you will return here to me, and not seek a hiding-
place in the kasbah."
"Call upon the Prophet, I swear it," said Abdullah earnestly.
Major Grattan turned to Biggles. "You'd better tell him what you want him to do. Shall I stay, or would you rather talk to him alone?"
"Stay by all means," replied Biggles. "We are engaged on a case in which your department may be involved at any moment." To Abdullah he said: "This is a private matter between us."
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(illustration)
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"May my tongue shrivel if I speak of it," returned Abdullah simply.
"It is a matter of opening a door that is locked," went on Biggles. "Could that be managed? "
Abdullah drew himself up to his full height. "Could it be managed? By the Face of God, what talk is this? " he asked wonderingly. "Since when was there a door for which I, Abdullah ibn Abu, could not find a key?"
"If you can so easily open doors, why did you not open the door of your cell and walk away? " inquired Biggles sceptically.
"I was about to do so, effendi. I waited only for the most convenient hour," asserted Abdullah calmly.
Major Grattan leaned forward. "And what," he asked coldly, "were you going to use for a key?" From under his gumbaz Abdullah produced a nail and a piece of wire.
The Major frowned. "Where did you get those?"
"From the broom which I, thy humble servant, am expected to use to keep clean the floor of the lodging into which thou has cast me," explained Abdullah. "The broom had been mended in a careless fashion," he added naively.
Biggles rose. "Let us go," he said. Of the Major he inquired: "Is there a car handy that I can use? It would save time."
" You can borrow mine," offered the Major. "You'll find it outside."
" Thanks," said Biggles. "This way, Abdullah." Biggles drove the car to the airport and stopped in the inky shadow of a hangar. Then, on foot, they went on to the offices of Stellar Skyways. Pointing to the building Biggles said: "This is the place that I wish to enter. But no signs must be left of our visit."
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" W'allah! Signs, effendi? By the Truth of God, there shall be no more than those left by a jackal in a stony wadi,"
promised Abdullah.
He set to work. In five minutes the door was open.
He stepped back. "Enter," he invited. "What is thy pleasure now?".
"Guard the door and warn me if anyone comes" ordered Biggles. Then, to Algy: "Come on—we haven't too much time."
They went in through the open door, Biggles closing it, but not latching it, behind him. Then, switching on a torch, but holding the light down, he looked around. One glance told him what he wanted to know.
"This is the public booking office," he said quietly. "We're not likely to find anything here."
There was a door at the far side of the room. He walked over to it and turned the handle. It was locked. "Fetch Abdullah," he ordered. "You'd better keep cave until I send him back."
Algy went out, and presently Abdullah came in.
Biggles pointed to the door. "Can you manage this one? " he asked.
"The makers of locks are cheats and swindlers which is something I have never been," remarked Abdullah with his lordly air. "For what is the use of a lock that can be turned by a thief?" he asked, almost plaintively. "Still, doubtless God knows best."
"Doubtless," agreed Biggles. "But don't talk so much. Can you open the door? "
" If it is the Will of God," said Abdullah piously. Three minutes later the door swung slowly open.
Abdullah bowed and withdrew. When Algy came back Biggles was in the inner office, going through the papers on the desk.
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"I don't see the letter Tug brought up—the one addressed to White," remarked Biggles. "As it was urgent it has probably been delivered, which must mean that White lives hereabouts."
They found nothing of interest in the desk. There were letters, but they all appeared to refer to legitimate business.
Biggles said he was not surprised. It was hardly to be expected that incriminating documents would be left lying about.
"Somewhere there should be a complete record of everyone employed by the company," remarked Algy. " It would be needed for the pay-roll."
"If we could get hold of that we should have the master-key of the whole business, but I don't expect we shall find it here," returned Biggles. "Notice the two telephones—one on the desk and one on the wall. That one on the wall is a private wire. It must connect with somebody important. We'll remember it. What's in here?" As he spoke he walked over to a big, built-in cupboard. His torch revealed a number of miscellaneous parcels, conspicuous among which were a number of big game trophies.
"Looks like the luggage department," observed Algy.
"Evidently," answered Biggles. "Seems to be quite a lot of stuff here, too, as if Cairo was a bottle-neck in the organization. Ah—of course. I remember Tug saying that the company has been short of pilots. That would account for it. Stuff would pile up."
"Why Cairo particularly?"
"Because it's here, don't forget, that the Hunters' Tour links up with the Old World Tour, which operates over Europe.
Today is Thursday. The European tour calls here every Saturday. When it comes I page 156
imagine it clears this stuff. By the way, do you notice a queer smell?"
Algy sniffed. "Now you mention it. A musty sme
ll, mixed up with moth balls."
"Does it remind you of anything?"
"I can't say that it does."
"I've smelt that same smell before, and recently," declared Biggles. "Your nose seldom lets you down. It takes you back to a scene quicker than any other sense. Wait a minute, let me think. By thunder! I've got it! Something in here has the same smell as the stamps and notes you saw me examining the other day in Mount Street. Or let's put it the other way round. The stamps had the same peculiar aroma as something in this cupboard. That can't be coincidence.
Hold the light."
While Algy held the torch Biggles examined the contents of the cupboard, but without finding anything of interest.
"Strange," he said in a baffled voice. "The thing must be here somewhere. Hold hard. I've got an idea." As he spoke he lifted out the grinning mask of a leopard and turned it round slowly in his hands. "This has been preserved, but not properly mounted yet," he observed. "Of course, in this condition it would be easier to transport home. Notice how the skin has been sewn up at the back of the neck, with enough hide left over for it to be mounted on a wood shield.
What's this?" He turned over a label that was attached. There was writing on it and he read it aloud. "General Sir Yardley Simmonds, K.C.B., D.S.O., Barrington Hall, Leicester. . via Samuel Cassar & Co., Taxidermists, Bantock Place, London E.C.4. That last part is printed," he observed. "Only the General's name is written. That can only page 157
mean that stuff must go to Cassar & Co. regularly. What do you make of that?"
"There can't be anything wrong with the General's stuff," declared Algy. "He's a member of the Army Council. That puts him above suspicion."
"Exactly—above suspicion," murmured Biggles in a curious voice. "I wonder ... ? Show a light."
Taking out his penknife he carefully cut enough of the stitches at the back of the leopard's head to enable him to insert three fingers. Algy, watching, saw him withdraw a flat object that was presently revealed to be a closely-pressed packet of paper.
There was a brief interval of silence. Then Biggles said, in a voice that was brittle with sudden understanding "Fivers!
This is it! We've got it. What a scheme. Simple, yet bar accidents, foolproof."
"You're not going to suggest that the General is in the racket, are you?" asked Algy incredulously.
"Of course not," answered Biggles quickly. "But it's all as plain now as the sun in the sky. Don't you see, the General's name is good enough to get the stuff through. This is how it works. This stuff has come up from Kudinga. The General must have been down there, hunting. The notes are being printed there. The trophies are roughly cured there, and the notes sewn into them. They are then sent on here. Of course, the owners of the trophies know nothing about the notes.
But this is the clever part. The trophies are addressed to the homes of the owners, and their names are important enough to see them through customs. But before going home the trophies go first to a taxidermist for final dressing and setting up. He's the racketeer. He distributes the stuff and so gets it into circulation. Afterwards, no doubt, the trophies page 158
are sent on to the homes of their rightful owners. In that way spurious notes could be introduced into any country in the world. This is the receiving depot from Kudinga. From here I should say the stuff is picked up by the Old World Tour and delivered in the relevant country. We can soon check up on that. Let's look at some of these labels. Show the light."
In quick succession Biggles read out the addresses.
Paris—Rome—Istanbul—New York—London. Okay, that's all we want to know."
"But wouldn't the customs people feel something inside these skins? " queried Algy.
"Possibly—but they would assume it to be stuffing, which in fact it is. The things have to be stuffed, but the customs people would hardly expect the stuffing to consist—as in this case—of five-pound notes. Customs officers are pretty thorough, but I doubt if they would think it necessary to pull to pieces the property of a man like, say, General Sir Yardley Simmonds. Anyway, It seems to have worked. No doubt in the ordinary way, when the company has plenty of pilots and machines available, the trophies actually travel up with their owners, which would make it easier still. But we're wasting time. This is really all we need to know. With a full list of the company's precious taxidermIsts the police can rope in every distributing centre; and by sitting in the taxidermists' shops they can catch every private distributor as he comes in. Hold the light while I copy down these names and addresses."
With Algy holding the torch Biggles wrote fast in his notebook.
"You're not going to touch this stuff then?" asked AIgy.
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"Not likely. We'll leave it just as it is. It can go on. I'll advise Raymond. He no doubt will notify the police on the continent, who, by swooping on the stuff as it is delivered, will catch the crooks with the goods on them. Okay, that's all. Let's tidy up and get out."
Biggles drew the threads and arranged the leopard skin so that the incision he had made did not show. The trophies were then returned to the cupboard as they had been found. Having satisfied himself that nothing was out of place Biggles made for the door. "Abdullah can lock up behind us," he said.
By the time this was done, and they had returned to the car, the stars were paling in the east. Without speaking, engrossed in thought, Biggles drove back to Police Headquarters where Abdullah was handed over to Major Grattan, who was just going off duty.
"Here's your prisoner," Biggles told the police officer. "He's done a good job. Let him off lightly. He's a useful man.
You might do worse than take him on your staff."
"It's an idea. I hadn't thought of it," admitted the Major.
"The Hand of God is in this," swore Abdullah earnestly. "If I were free," he added pensively, "my mother would not suffer grief."
"Go to her, and see that you do not again give her cause for grief," said the Major sternly.
Abdullah touched his forehead and then his heart. " Upon my head be it," said he.
"Forget what you have seen tonight," ordered Biggles. "Effendi, it is already forgotten," returned Abdullah, and went out into the dawn.
Biggles thanked the Major for his co-operation and followed Abdullah to the street.
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"Now what?" asked Algy.
"Let's get back to Tug," answered Biggles. "We're cutting things fine."
They found Tug just about to seal his report. Biggles told him to leave it open as he had something more to add. Then, sitting down, he wrote rapidly for some minutes before sealing the envelope. Looking up at Algy he said, "Sorry, laddie, but I shall have to ask you to go flat out for home. Take the Mosquito that brought us out—you should do the trip comfortably in seven hours. See Raymond. Give him this report. Tell him all you know. He must act as he thinks best. I've given him the names and addresses of the taxiderrmists, and told him what they really are, so he may decide to strike right away."
Algy took the envelope. "Where shall I find you when I get back? "
" Kudinga," answered Biggles. " You can tell Raymond that, too. Get cracking. I've got to have a few words with Tug before he goes to work."
"I'll be seeing you," promised Algy as he departed.
Chapter 14
Events At Kudinga
AFTER the drone of the departing Pacemaker had faded to silence Ginger and Bertie stood for a little while gazing in the direction of the lodge, conspicuous by its lights, not expecting to see anything but thinking there was just a chance that they might. At length Ginger turned away with a casual, "Well, that's that."
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"Here, I say, where are you going?" asked Bertie.
"We might as well stroll back to the forest."
"But what about my nauseating pants?"
"What about them?"
"Don't you think I might slip up to the lodge and have a quick bath and change?"
"That would be a daft thing
to do," declared Ginger. "You couldn't get in, anyway. They'll have locked the gate by now. If we're wise we'll keep well away from the place."
"I thought I might just slip in without anybody seeing me—"
"Nothing doing."
"Then what are we going to do? I mean, where are we going to sleep, and all that? Do you realize I haven't a razor?"
"Better to have a bit of stubble on your chin than a knife in your ribs."
"But that's all very fine," protested Bertie. "Where are we going to find a roof to get under? "
" As far as I know," answered Ginger, "there's only one roof, apart from the lodge, for several hundred miles, and that's the power-house. This might be the opportunity to give it the once-over. The engine isn't running or we should hear it, which I take to mean there's no one there. I shouldn't think anyone sleeps there. Aside from that, it would be a more comfortable place to pass the night than out on the plain or in the forest."
"If there's no one there the place will be locked."
"We'll break in."
"If we do that, when the crooks come in the morning they'll know we've been around."
"So what? As far as we're concerned the game's
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up. If Kreeze gets his hands on us we're sunk, any how, so we've nothing to lose. He's bound to organize a search for me in the morning, as soon as it gets light. Maybe he won't think of looking in the power-house."
"But isn't the power-house inside the fence?"
"Yes. But if you remember I told you there's a place where the fence has been knocked flat by a fallen tree."
"Where the bally buffaloes go in and out? That doesn't sound a very good place to me, old boy."
"Perhaps there aren't any more. I'm pretty sure that the one that came for me was a solitary old bull."
"I hope you're right, by gad. What about the snakes—the puff-adders and things? I'd rather argue with that crooked crook Kreeze in daylight than with a puff-adder in the dark—yes, by Jove! Every time."
34 Biggles Hunts Big Game Page 12