The Quest of Julian Day

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The Quest of Julian Day Page 9

by Dennis Wheatley


  It was a fairly safe bet that the Egyptologist-turned-crook would leave the party unaccompanied, as he had this business call to make before returning to his hotel, and I had visualised myself holding him up before he made that call, as the first step in my new campaign. It occurred to me now that half the cars in Alexandria were parked down in the street below and that at least a dozen policemen would be keeping watch on them; added to which, from four o’clock on, any number of guests would be leaving the party. I could hardly stand outside waiting for Lemming with a gun in my hand, or slog him on the head when he appeared and carry him away over my shoulder, with such a crowd of people about. Some more subtle means of securing his person had to be thought out.

  As he was a visitor in Alexandria the odds were all against his having his own car and I felt that I could reasonably gamble on his leaving in a taxi; so, having asked the Belvilles to rout round for him and keep him under observation until I returned. I went downstairs and out into the street. Just as I had feared, there were scores of cars about and practically every taxi in Alexandria was lined up in one huge rank. Walking along the line I picked out two decent-looking fellows, both of whom had good cars, and beckoned them over to me. Then I produced my wallet and put up a little proposition to them.

  At first they were a bit dubious; but money talks in Egypt and they both entered into the spirit of the thing when I explained that the whole affair was only a practical joke against a man who had pinched a young woman off me for the supper-dance.

  Returning to the Palaccio I located Harry and Clarissa sitting out on a couple of chairs on the top landing. They told me they had run Lemming to earth up on the roof-garden where he was engaged in a petting-party with the blonde in the Dutch peasant dress.

  ‘He was re-braiding one of her plaits when we spotted them, giggled Clarissa. ‘The bow must have come off its end in the scramble and he’s taking his time to tie it on again.’

  I lit a cigarette and we waited patiently for them to appear. Our position was a good one strategically since, in addition to the marble staircase, McPherson had installed a lift in his converted block of flats by which they might easily have slipped down to the hall had we not kept an eye on its sixth-floor gate as well as on the stairs.

  At last they came down from the roof-garden. Lemming looked pretty hot, but that may have been due to his feathered head-dress; and the Dutch maiden’s make-up was distinctly out of gear, disclosing the fact that she was by no means as young as one might have thought at the first sight of her two long golden pigtails.

  She retired to put her face to rights and Lemming hung about until she reappeared, upon which we followed them down to the ballroom, where they danced again, but at a quarter-past four he evidently made up his mind to tear himself away from this blonde siren as we saw him with her in the doorway scribbling a note of her address, or a date, in a little book.

  Leaving the Belvilles to keep an eye on him as he was making his good-byes I promptly shot down in the lift, hurried out into the street, signalled up my two chariots from the rank and halted them just outside the front door. Three minutes later I was back in the palace waiting for friend Lemming to come downstairs. The hall was full of people and directly he reached it I went straight up to him, bowed, first touching my forehead then my chest, and smiled the ingratiating smile of the average Arab servant.

  ‘Forgive me please, sir,’ I said with a lisp, ‘but you are Mr. Lemming, yes?’

  ‘Yes. Lemming’s my name.’ He stared at me in mild surprise.

  ‘The Princess Oonas has sent a car for you, sir. If you please, I lead you to it.’

  ‘That’s very nice of her. I won’t be a moment,’ he replied turning away.

  Harry and Clarissa had followed him down to the hall. I had told them nothing of my scheme so far as I did not wish to involve them in it until I was reasonably certain that it was going to work. As Lemming left me to get his coat from the cloakroom I stepped up to Harry and whispered, ‘There are two cars outside. If I can get him into the first without any fuss take the second one and follow us.’

  There were twenty or thirty people in the hall, guests and servants, and in my dragoman’s get-up it was quite impossible for anyone who had not actually noticed me dancing upstairs to tell if I were with either one or the other. When Lemming reappeared with a light fawn coat over his Red Indian costume I bowed to him again and, without showing the least suspicion, he allowed me to lead him out to the first of the waiting cars.

  I had carefully chosen the best-looking vehicle I could find among the strange assortment on the rank. Nearly all of them had once been private cars and this was a quite presentable-looking Renault. If Lemming remarked on the taximeter that had been affixed to it I meant to tell him that the Princess’ own car had gone back to the garage before I was sent to fetch him; but, if he did notice the meter, he refrained from commenting on it.

  In a fever of impatience to get away I held the door for him while, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Harry and Clarissa getting into the car behind. Next moment I had clambered into the seat beside the driver and we were off.

  All went well for the first ten minutes, after which friend Lemming began to get uneasy. Leaning out of the window he craned his head forward and shouted in my ear.

  ‘Hi! Where are you taking me?’

  ‘To the Princess Oonas’s house, effendi,’ I shouted back, although we had already left it half-a-mile behind, somewhere on our left, and were now speeding at a fine pace down the Route D’Aboukir.’

  Temporarily, he seemed reassured; but a few minutes later he tumbled to it that something was really up and began to shout again. By that time we were running out through Ramleh with its many fine villas where the English colony in Alexandria mainly reside. At that early morning hour not a soul was about so I simply ignored his yelling and banging on the windows; very soon we had left the last, isolated houses behind us and were right out in the country.

  When we reached a good open stretch of road, where it was unlikely that we should be surprised by natives suddenly emerging from a group of palms or hutments, I told my driver to take a side-track which ran between some fields of cotton and, after we had bumped along it for a couple of miles, I pulled him up.

  The second car came to a halt just behind us. I had hardly glimpsed it before the door of the one in which I myself had travelled was thrown violently open and Lemming sprang down in the dust.

  ‘What the hell’s the meaning of this?’ he roared. ‘If you think you’ve brought me out here to rob me, you’re mistaken!’

  ‘On the contrary,’ I said politely, as I stepped down from the box. ‘But it’s not your money I’m after—only your clothes. Look lively and get ’em off.’

  7

  The Egyptian Princess

  ‘My—clothes?’ he gasped glancing down self-consciously at his Indian rig.

  ‘That’s it,’ I said. ‘You can keep your undies and the light coat. It’s those pretty feathers of yours I’m after.’

  The second car had pulled up ten yards behind us and Harry and Clarissa were now watching the little scene with amused smiles. I was quite confident that I could tackle Lemming without assistance as, although I did not wish to use it, I had my gun on me; but there was just a chance that the taxi-driver might have turned nasty and I could hardly hold them both up on my own while I changed clothes with Lemming. The affair was much too important to chance slipping up, so I had thought it best to bring Harry along just in case I needed a hand at a critical moment.

  ‘What’s the idea?’ Lemming snapped. ‘Is this some sort of joke?’

  ‘You can take it that way if you like,’ I told him.

  ‘I don’t like!’ he roared. ‘There’s more in this than meets the eye. You got me into that car on the pretence it was going to take me to the Princess Oonas.’

  ‘True, but I’ve no time to argue about that now. I’m in a hurry.’

  ‘Look here,’ he parried. ‘What’s the game
? Who the hell are you, anyway?’

  ‘I’m the man who’s going to debag you in half a minute unless you get in the cab and take off your Indian finery yourself.’

  He cast a startled glance in Clarissa’s direction and she tittered.

  ‘Come on,’ I said, ‘unless you want to provide one of the less usual sights of Alexandria.’

  Suddenly he swung a fist at me but I ducked and slammed in a heavy one right over his heart. He gave a grunt and crashed back into the car, collapsing on its step.

  ‘You’re a nasty piece of work,’ I told him, ‘and I’d like to give you a good beating-up but I haven’t the time just now. Maybe I’ll have the opportunity later. Are you going to get into that cab and pull your clothes off or do I push your face in?’

  Panting a little he turned about quite meekly and crawled into the car. I stood by the open door so that he should not attempt to slip out the other side, and watched him while he stripped himself on his feathers and soft leather Redskin garments.

  ‘Leave them there on the seat,’ I said, when he had done; and he emerged with the light fawn coat over his underthings. It was quite a short coat, and the spectacle of his rather skinny legs protruding from beneath it gave rise to fresh titters from Clarissa. I made him remove his shoes as well, knowing that without them the stony surface of the track would delay his getting back to the main road when we had gone. Telling Harry to keep an eye on him while I changed, I got into the car and discarded Amin’s long silk jibba and tarboosh for the Indian garments and great hood of multi-coloured feathers; after which I beckoned over Clarissa and asked her to do my face.

  Fortunately the make-up I had on already was not very different in shade from Lemming’s, and although mine was a little less red I hoped that the difference in tone would not be noticed if we could fake up a fair imitation of his war-paint. We had nothing which would serve as yellow ochre, but Clarissa’s lip-stick was of that repulsive shade of orange which women sometimes use and she transferred some of the great blobs of white grease-paint, with which Harry had bedaubed his countenance, to my own. When she had done drawing stripes and circles on my face I looked quite a formidable Indian Brave.

  I should have liked to have tied Lemming up somewhere but I feared that if I did the two taxi-drivers might begin to regard the affair as something more than a joke. We were well off the main highway so there was little chance of his being picked up and, as I knew that without his shoes it would take him the best part of an hour to walk to the nearest garage or telephone, I felt we should have all the start we needed. Paying off the second driver, with a liberal tip, I sent him back to Alexandria. Clarissa, Harry and I then piled into the other car and followed, leaving Lemming there cursing in the middle of the track.

  It was nearly five by the time we reached Princess Oonas’ house; which proved to be an imposing-looking mansion standing in its own grounds but facing on to the street with a broad flight of marble steps leading down from a double-doorway to the pavement.

  Leaving Harry and Clarissa in the car I marched up the steps and rang the bell. In spite of the lateness of the hour the door was opened for me immediately by a smart young boy in an elaborate livery on the lines of the traditional Turkish dress. He ushered me into a wide, lofty hall lit only by one hanging lantern of Moorish design which left the further confines of the place in darkness. With almost startling suddenness a hugely fat man appeared out of the shadows; approaching noiselessly in felt-soled slippers he asked my business.

  ‘My name is Lemming,’ I said. ‘The Princess is expecting me.’

  The fat man bowed. ‘This way, effendi. Her Highness is above,’ and wobbling like a huge, top-heavy blancmange he led the way, puffing slightly, up a broad flight of stairs.

  We passed through two large reception-rooms which were positively hideous. They were packed with garish Tottenham Court Road furniture and expensive but gaudy ornaments—mostly statuettes made up from bits of ivory, brass, bronze, enamel and silver fitted together—which conflicted horribly with the soft colours of the fine Persian rugs and beautiful old Turkish hangings. Beyond the second room, however, lay what appeared to be the Princess’ private sanctum, and the moment I was shown in I saw that here was displayed a very different taste.

  It was not marred by a single piece of costly European junk and had an entirely Eastern atmosphere. There were lacquer cabinets on which stood numerous fine pieces of carved crystal, soap-stone, malachite and jade. One wall, rather surprisingly for a woman’s room, was covered with a fine collection of arms, mainly ancient pieces of Moorish pattern inlaid with gold and ivory. A perfume-burner on a tripod sent up a little wisp of aromatic smoke, scenting the room heavily with amber. There were no chairs at all; only divans and large, low, cushioned stools.

  The Princess was lying on a divan in the centre of the room. She had discarded all her jewels and changed her Cleopatra costume for a little red, sleeveless Turkish jacket, embroidered with gold, and voluminous trousers of some white filmy material which were drawn in tightly round her ankles but cut with such exaggerated width that until she moved it looked as though she were wearing a skirt. The bright red of the jacket set off her dark beauty to perfection and lying there in the soft glow of the shaded lamps she had all the exotic allure of an houri straight out of the Arabian Nights.

  The fat man closed the double-doors of the room behind me and I was alone with Oonas. It was the critical moment. Lemming had been pointed out to her only a few hours before by Zakri Bey. Had she registered his features sufficiently well under their war-paint to know that it was not he who stood before her? He and I were much of a height and I blessed the subdued light in which it was hardly likely that she would notice the slightly different colouring of our make-up. Moreover, very large eyes are nearly always somewhat shortsighted, and I was gambling on the fact that she had not seen Lemming from nearer than about twenty feet.

  For a moment she stared at me haughtily, but my anxiety was relieved when she exclaimed with abrupt displeasure:

  ‘You are late.’

  She had spoken in French so I replied in the same language, ‘I fear I am, a little, but I got involved in an argument and couldn’t get away quite at the time arranged.’

  ‘I am not used to being kept waiting,’ she said sharply.

  ‘I am sorry to have kept you up,’ I apologised. ‘But if you will give me the thing I called for I won’t detain you longer. As a matter of fact, I should be pretty glad to get to bed myself.’

  ‘I am not used to rudeness, either.’

  ‘Really?’ I smiled, ‘I had no intention of being rude.’

  ‘Some of you Europeans have the strangest manners. In this country it is considered to be in the worst possible taste for a man to declare himself anxious to get out of a person’s presence the moment he is shown into it.’

  She was, I suppose, so used to adulation that my abruptness had seemed quite extraordinary to her. It suddenly occurred to me that, if I had not been so anxious to secure the tablet, the last thing I should have done would have been to treat her in such a manner. We were alone there together in the middle of the night, or rather in the small hours of the morning, and any normal young man who had no special reason for wanting to get away as quickly as he could would most certainly have jumped at the chance of improving his acquaintance with the beautiful Oonas.

  It flashed into my mind that perhaps that was just what she had expected me to do; possibly she had liked what she had seen of Lemming’s tall figure and been pleasurably anticipating a little mild amorous dalliance with a new admirer before she turned in for the night. Yet there was no hint of invitation in her glance. Those two large, abnormally widely-spaced blue eyes stared up at me unblinkingly; and, whether she knew it or not, I felt quite certain that they possessed hypnotic power.

  Anxious as I was to get through with the business I suddenly realised that I had been very near missing a marvellous opportunity to further my own plans. As she believed me to be Lemm
ing there was a fine possibility of my learning quite a lot about O’Kieff and Zakri Bey if only I could get her to talk. Although she had not asked me to sit down I promptly parked myself on one of the low stools near her divan.

  ‘Princess,’ I said, ‘I’m afraid you’ve entirely misunderstood me. Far from wanting to leave your presence I should count it a great favour if I might be allowed to smoke a cigarette with you before returning to my hotel. I only feared that you would be tired after the dance and anxious to be rid of me as soon as possible.’

  She stretched her arms lazily above her head and gave me the suggestion of a smile. ‘That’s better; quite a pretty speech for an Englishman. Smoke by all means. There are cigarettes in the box beside you on the little table there.’

  I took one and reaching out a plump little brown hand she struck a match, sat upright and held it for me. As I lit the cigarette her face and those extraordinary eyes were very near my own. I got a whiff of her perfume and it was some subtle stuff that I could not analyse; like and yet unlike the amber which scented the whole room.

  ‘I consider myself a very lucky fellow,’ I went on, ‘in having to collect this thing from you personally. Everyone was saying how lovely you looked in your costume as Cleopatra tonight, but I am more favoured than the rest now that I have been privileged to see you in the perfect setting of your own home.’

  ‘You like me in these simple clothes, then?’

  ‘You look a dream—an Eastern dream such as one reads of in the old literature of your country.’

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘A dream induced by hashish, perhaps?’

  ‘That I can’t say as I have never tried it’.

  ‘Really! Are you afraid to do so?’

  ‘Oh no,’ I smiled. ‘Like Jurgen, I’ll try any drink once.’

 

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