I stared back mutely, wondering what his interest in Josephine Belvoir was.
He returned to the matter in hand. ‘Do you know what the house of Hanno represents?’
‘Erm… no.’
‘Or the medallion?’ he asked.
‘It’s some sort of antique,’ I replied. ‘Like a treasure map. It’s Phoenician.’
‘Ahh, very good. And what do you know of these people, Major Lennox?’
‘They were ancient sea-traders, erm, during Roman times.’
He smiled, as though mildly amused. ‘Let me enlighten you further.’ He relaxed, leaning back. ‘Phoenician history is mostly legend, but they have left their traces to those who choose to look, and I do look, Major Lennox. I search very hard for their artefacts, because I am one of them. One of the few who can be sure that the old blood still runs through heart and veins. Does this surprise you, my friend?’
I tried to appear impressed but didn’t entirely succeed, although I noted the word ‘friend’ and hoped it was a good omen. I wondered briefly what Swift and the others were doing and if they were searching for me.
He clapped his hands suddenly and a waiter scurried in with a tray of shot glasses brimming with clear liquid, which I assumed to be the local Arak.
Qarsan picked up his glass with an elegant movement, emptied it and replaced it on the table. The henchmen all knocked back theirs and returned to staring at me. I took a sip. It was a great deal more potent than the stuff in the dance rooms; it smelled like aviation fuel and tasted much the same.
‘You do not possess the talent of dissembling, Major Lennox.’ Qarsan flashed white teeth and continued his tale. ‘The Phoenicians were a maritime race of traders — the most successful of their world. This was the world where east met west. Where the desire to exchange ideas and luxuries, and some necessities of course, was compelling.’
He warmed to the subject. ‘While the Egyptians were building their pyramids, and the Greeks were making way for the Romans, my people sailed from their city ports of Tyre, Byblos and Sidon and spread their towns and cities along the southern coast of the Mediterranean all the way to Carthage and beyond. Gold, silver, and metals were carried by Phoenicians on their ships from as far away as your English lands. And do you know where they took these marvels to be bartered?’
He paused to watch as I shook my head. ‘Damascus!’ he exclaimed. ‘Here in this wondrous city, these goods were traded for silk, weapons and gems from the East. Merchandise that had travelled the Great Silk Road from as far away as China. Damascus was the very epicentre of the great trade routes. And so when Hanno finished his explorations he came here to spend the remainder of his days. He built a house and a water garden and he gathered all his knowledge of the ancient world and put it in a map, which he placed within the walls of his property.’ He nodded and smiled as though waiting for enlightenment to dawn upon me.
‘Ah, and everyone wants to find the house because of the map,’ I said.
‘Yes…’ he seemed to be waiting for me to add something more, but as I couldn’t, I didn’t.
The smile faded from Qarsan’s face. ‘You really do not know what this is about, do you, Major Lennox?’
‘No,’ I admitted. ‘But you could explain.’
His smile returned but he shook his head. ‘The medallion, if you please,’ he held out his hand.
I sighed in defeat, rummaged in my pocket and pulled it out with a dog biscuit I’d been saving for Fogg. I placed it on the table, the medallion that is, not the dog biscuit. The bright shiny brass glinted in the light from the lamp overhead. The nearest henchman snatched it up and passed it down to Qarsan. I was sorry to see it go.
‘You have cleaned it?’ Qarsan frowned.
‘Yes,’ I smiled. ‘It was covered with grime.’
‘That is age, Major Lennox. It takes many hundreds of years to acquire a rich patina.’
‘Ah,’ I gathered he wasn’t too pleased. ‘Anyway, if I could have the directions to Hanno’s house, I’ll be off.’
He placed a hand in his jacket pocket and extracted a rolled up sheet of thick paper, tied with a ribbon and sealed in red wax. The henchmen passed it along in my direction. I took it, exceedingly relieved that I’d been given something, and slid a finger under the seal to break it.
Qarsan held up a hand. ‘You can study your prize later, English Major.’ He stood up. All of his men instantly rose to their feet.
‘Fine. If you insist,’ I agreed warily.
He fixed me with dark eyes. ‘I am an honourable man. And I assure you, you have what you came for.’
‘Right…’ I would have said more but I was marched out of the room by one of the huge henchmen. I was returned to the club and left there.
The dance floor was now a tumult of music, shouting and frenetic women and men in varying states of inebriation.
‘Lennox,’ Swift shouted from beyond the crowd of revellers.
‘Wait,’ I yelled back over the din and wove my way through the throng to join him.
‘Rather fun, isn’t it?’ he was pink in the face and clutching a glass of Arak.
‘What?’
‘The Dabke. It’s like Irish stomping. Look at Vincent and Dreadnaught.’ He nodded his head towards the crowd. Our companions were holding hands with ladies in a line of people. They were circling around, kicking their feet up and stamping them down to the music, clearly having a marvellous time.
‘Swift,’ I said.
‘What?’
‘Didn’t you see me leave?’
‘No,’ he frowned.
‘Well, I did and it’s a damn good thing I didn’t need any support.’
That made his eyes open. ’You mean you’ve seen the tomb-robber?’
‘Yes, he’s called Qarsan.’
‘Qarsan?’
‘Yes!’ I shouted again. ‘And I’ve got it.’
‘The map?’
‘Yes! And I want to go back to the hotel now.’
‘Right.’ He looked rather nonplussed. ‘Um… Well done, Lennox, and um, sorry about the dancing and all that. Got a bit carried away.’
I shook my head. I could have said a great deal more, but I felt as though I’d been through the wringer and wanted somewhere to lie down quietly, preferably where there weren’t any moustachioed henchmen or dead bodies.
He put his glass down. ‘I’ll get the others, shall I?’
We found Bing under one of the tables. He’d snaffled the unattended Arak while the others were cavorting. I made for the door, while my compatriots dragged him to his feet and carried him out.
He collapsed again when we reached the fresh night air and grinned inanely at the starlit sky far above, then started humming loudly.
‘I ain’t carrying him,’ Vincent scowled.
‘Wait, I have a solution,’ Dreadnaught declared, his voice thick from the liquor. He went off down the alleyway and came back moments later leading a donkey.
‘Come along, Bing, old fellow. You can ride home.’ Dreadnaught dragged Harry to his feet, draped him across the donkey’s back and led him off.
Vincent stalked behind, muttering under his breath. I had a feeling Bing’s days as a Hollywood star could be reaching its nadir and couldn’t help but think he’d brought it upon himself.
‘You’ve really got the map?’ Swift hissed at me, as we lagged behind the small procession.
‘Yes, I told you.’
‘What was he like?’ Swift sounded contrite.
‘He thinks he’s the last of the Phoenicians.’
He looked askance so I told him what happened, including the part about Josephine.
‘Why does he want us to find the murderer?’
‘I have no idea,’ I replied.
‘Oh!’ He looked thoughtful then gave a shrug. ’What does the ma
p look like?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You haven’t seen it?’
‘No.’
‘No!’ He stopped in his tracks. ‘Lennox, he could have given you a damn shopping list for all you know.’
‘Well, it might be, but what the devil do you think I could do about it,’ I retorted. ‘Anyway, we need to show it to Persi, it probably won’t mean a thing to either of us.’
Which proved entirely true.
We managed to sneak up the back stairs and slid along the wall in the darkness without being seen by the guard. I entered Persi’s rooms first and met her coming out of the bathroom, clutching a towel about her damp figure. She almost dropped it in surprise which set my pulse racing and she stifled a laugh when she saw the look on my face.
‘Go and sit down, I’ll put on a robe,’ she smiled.
‘You don’t have to…’
‘What?’ Swift came in on my heels.
‘Oh, never mind, come on.’
I led the way to the couches by the window which were now shuttered against the night and lit by a table lamp. Swift sat opposite as I started to break the seal, but then stopped.
‘Look!’
‘What?’ He came to lean over my shoulder. ‘The sign on the bracelet!’ He exclaimed.
We stared at the imprint of ship, sail and horse’s head.
‘Qarsan must have been her wealthy lover.’ It was my turn to state the obvious.
‘How did they meet?’
‘Swift, I don’t know any more than you do.’
‘Sorry, stupid question. Better open the roll, see if it throws light on anything.’
I untied the sheet of thick paper and flattened it out on the low table between us. It was written in strange hieroglyphs, drawn within a spiralling coil. There were upside down 7s, a cross, a dash in a circle, a backwards K, a hook and so on. It looked a bit like Greek, although it could have been double-dutch for all I knew.
Persi reappeared and came to sit next to me on the sofa, she was enveloped in a fluffy white bath robe, she smelled of soap and perfume and… ‘What?’
‘I said ‘it’s fascinating, isn’t it’,’ she repeated, leaning in to study the curious design.
‘That image in the centre looks awfully like the dead camel that was on the medallion.’ I placed a finger on it.
‘It’s not a dead camel, Heathcliff,’ Persi replied. ‘That’s the house of Hanno.’
‘Umm, not Heathcliff, old thing,’ I reminded her.
‘Really, darling, does it matter?’ She was staring at the map as she spoke. I was a bit nonplussed, no-one had called me darling before. Perhaps I should use it too? Or should I think of something of my own? Like dearest, or sweetheart, or…? ‘What?’
‘I said, ‘I’ve never seen anything like this before’,’ she repeated.
My heart sank. ‘Do you mean you don’t know what it says?’
‘Oh yes, I can decipher it. It’s written in ancient Phoenician, but the way it’s written in this spiral form is so very peculiar.’
‘Why?’ Swift asked. ‘Is it something to do with snakes?’
She laughed. ‘No, not at all, it’s because this map is a series of instructions that lead below ground.’
‘What!’ Swift and I exclaimed.
‘It’s the levels, you see.’
We didn’t see.
‘Oh dear.’ She sighed. ‘This city, is terribly old. Thousands of years old, actually, and it’s been built and rebuilt many times by different peoples. The last time was by the Romans. You may have noticed that some of the streets are quite straight and form a grid pattern, whereas the older parts of the city were built in the usual hodge-podge way ordinary people do.’
She looked from one to the other of us with her lovely blue eyes and I had to snap myself out of a trance and pay attention. ‘Below the streets are layer upon layer of rubble and stone from earlier civilisations. Quite a few remnants survive almost intact because the Romans used them as foundations. Look here,’ she pointed again to the dead camel. ‘Hanno’s house is just beyond the Temple of Jupiter.’
I suddenly realised I may have seen it. ‘Is it the place with stone columns?’
‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘The Temple was rebuilt on an existing religious site constructed by the Arameans, who you must have heard of.’
‘I’ve read about the Romans.’ I offered.
‘So have I,’ Swift added. ‘But not very much about the people of Aram.’
‘Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to make a copy and then translate it into English.’
I noticed the lamplight caught her hair, turning damp tendrils gold, her face pink with the warmth of the bath she had just left. Her… ‘What?’
‘I said will you concentrate, Lennox!’ Swift reminded me.
‘Look, I’m tired,’ I bristled. ‘And if we’re discussing concentration, you should have been watching me rather than dancing…’
‘Do be quiet, please,’ Persi interrupted. ‘This is terribly complicated.’ She put the paper down. ‘If we’re going to hand a translation over to Lady Maitland in the morning, I will have to work most of the night.’
‘Right,’ I said.
‘Right,’ Swift said.
‘Goodnight,’ she said, without looking up.
We were dismissed.
Chapter 18
Swift arrived with the dawn. He didn’t knock; he just marched in wearing his trench coat and a determined air.
I had barely donned my freshly pressed linen suit.
‘Come on, we’ll make some real progress today,’ he announced, tightened the belt of his coat and exited.
‘Swift…’ I called out too late. He’d marched off down the stairs so I followed him, in some irritation, to the courtyard with Foggy at my heels.
‘We need to distract Hamid,’ Swift announced.
‘No, we don’t.’ I said. ‘Fogg needs a walk and then breakfast, in that order.’ I crossed the courtyard in the direction of the garden and terrace.
‘Lennox,’ he called, but I carried on.
Fogg gambolled about, chasing birds and imaginary squirrels under leafy trees and flower-burdened shrubs. It was an oasis of peace in a city jostling with humanity beyond the high stone walls. I strolled across the lawn behind my little dog. Dew drops darkened the tan leather of my shoes and rose petals stuck to my soles.
Swift arrived at my side.
‘Lennox…’ he started.
‘Swift, will you stop being so damned hasty?’ I turned on him.
He was pointing a thumb over his shoulder toward the terrace.
‘We have company,’ he said.
‘Ah,’ I gave up my leisurely amble and followed him to join Lady Maitland and Genevieve, who were seated at a table on the terrace.
‘Major Lennox. Chief Inspector Swift,’ Lady Maitland greeted us. ‘Sit down.’
Genevieve wore a cream dress with a fetching straw hat over her chestnut curls. She smiled warmly while we took our seats, then straightened her face as her aunt tapped her fingers on the table.
Pots of tea were served.
‘Did you execute the exchange?’ Lady Maitland demanded.
I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off as she raised a hand.
‘I must warn you not to say a word if there is anyone in earshot. Do I make myself clear?’
Swift and I scanned around, then nodded.
‘Sausages,’ I said.
‘Pardon?’
‘For my dog.’
‘Ah,’ her Ladyship broke into a smile as she shifted in her wicker chair to gaze down at Foggy. ‘Well, you had better order some.’
I did, along with the usual pastries, fruit with sour cream, dishes of doughnut balls and whatnots of the like. We all ate, slip
ping titbits to Foggy, and waited until the terrace cleared of waiters.
‘So, gentlemen?’ Lady Maitland drilled a cold eye while poised over a tea cup.
Swift glanced at me.
‘Right,’ I replied. ‘But in exchange, we’d like some answers.’
‘I will consider it, but first I wish to be informed of last evening’s events.’
I told her about Qarsan and the exchange, but didn’t mention the bracelet, or the demand to detect the murderer – or the dancing for that matter.
‘And the paper giving directions to the house?’ Lady Maitland held her hand out.
‘Yes, but first I’d like to know…’ I began, then stuttered to a halt because there were so many questions, ‘Look, would you just tell us what you’re allowed to tell us? Please.’
I received another appraising look, then she gave the briefest of nods.
‘Very well, gentlemen. I am attached to the Foreign Office, Charles Langton is one of my agents and answers directly to me.’ She glanced briefly at the silent Genevieve, who presumably was her right-hand woman. ‘Charles was instructed to make his way to Damascus and contact the tomb-robber.’
‘Qarsan,’ I interjected.
‘Yes, Qarsan. Please resist pointless interruptions, Major,’ she replied. ‘Langton’s next course of action was to exchange the medallion for the location of the house of Hanno, make a copy of the map within its walls and return with the information to me in London.’
‘I thought you said you were en route back from India?’ I said.
She glared at me. I decided to shut up.
‘What information?’ Swift asked. ‘What does everyone want?’
‘That is on a ‘need-to-know basis’ Inspector.’
Why the hell were they all so damn secretive? I thought. Actually, they were all spies, I answered my own question – they were bound to be secretive!
Genevieve poured more tea. Bright sunlight dappled through the leafy canopy to light the table and glint off her chestnut hair.
I broke the silence. ‘Why did Qarsan want the medallion so much?’
Death in Damascus: A 1920s Murder Mystery with Heathcliff Lennox Page 14