‘But Julian, dear, if they find out who you really are they might kill you,’ Clarissa protested hastily. ‘We can’t let you deliberately walk into a place like that.’
‘Why not, since there’s a chance of my finding out something? I shall be carrying a gun remember.’
‘I don’t like it,’ declared Sylvia, who had curled up with her long legs under her on Clarissa’s bed.
‘It’s nice of you to be concerned for my safety,’ I said. ‘But I’m pretty capable of taking care of myself.’
‘I’m not the least concerned for your safety,’ she replied, coldly. ‘I mean I don’t like the whole business. You appear to think this man O’Kieff was the murderer and you must have been mixed up with him before because you know quite a lot about him. Yet you flatly refuse to tell us anything about yourself. For all we know you may be another crook who’s quarrelled with him.’
‘Oh come, darling,’ Clarissa exclaimed in a shocked voice.
Sylvia shrugged. ‘I’m sorry if I put it rather bluntly. Mr. Day seems to have made good use of the fortnight on board to exercise his fascination on you and Harry, but it’s had no time to work with me yet, and I’m simply going on the facts. None of us knows a single thing about him.’
‘Well, if you don’t like my way of handling this,’ I said, ‘what would you suggest yourself?’
Her beautifully-chiselled Anglo-Saxon features were set and her eyes hard as she stared at me. ‘You are wanted by the police in connection with my father’s murder. If you are an honest man and completely innocent you will give yourself up at once.’
I shrugged. ‘If I do, bang goes any chance of my getting anything on O’Kieff. After the dance I’ve led the police they’re certain to detain me for some days until they’ve definitely satisfied themselves that I didn’t do it and then Zakri will have me deported.’
‘I honestly can’t see that you’re likely to get much by going to this dope-den tomorrow night,’ Harry said thoughtfully.
‘Can’t you? We know Gamal is mixed up with Oonas and Zakri, therefore also with O’Kieff. I want to meet a few more members of the gang if possible, so that we may be able to identify them if we come up against them later. That’s why I am determined to visit Gamal’s place.’
‘That’s all very well,’ said Sylvia. ‘But there’s one thing you seem to have forgotten. Let’s accept your word for the moment that you had nothing whatever to do with Father’s death. The fact remains that owing to your having left the ship without permission the police naturally believe you are the murderer and they’re wasting all their energies trying to find you when they should be concentrating on somebody else. It isn’t fair to them to go on giving them a lot of bother for nothing like this. Besides, since you got the upper half of the tablet back from this Egyptian Princess, somebody obviously brought it ashore last night. As everybody else’s baggage was searched that certainly points to O’Kieff, but the police know nothing whatever about that yet. They’re much more likely to be able to pin the murder on him—if he did it—than you are. That’s why I insist on your giving yourself up to the police and telling them everything you know.’
‘I see your point, but giving myself up virtually means giving up my chance of getting even with O’Kieff; so I’m afraid I can’t oblige you.’
‘To hell with that! I’m not the least interested in your private quarrels, Mr. Day; but I am concerned in bringing my father’s murderer to justice. If you won’t do the decent thing I’m going to have you arrested.’
‘That’s easier said than done.’ I sneered, angry, in my tired state, at the lack of sympathy she seemed to be showing.
‘All right,’ she said, sliding off the bed. ‘But you won’t be able to keep on the run without assistance very long. Harry and Clarissa won’t help you against my wish, I know, and Amin will be useless to you once the police are told he’s been supplying you with changes of clothes.’
‘No,’ I agreed slowly. ‘I doubt if I could keep my freedom for twenty-four hours entirely on my own.’
She nodded her ash-blonde head. ‘I’m glad you appreciate that because it’s all I’m going to give you. Since you’re so keen on it you shall have your chance to visit Gamal’s tomorrow night if you’re prepared to give me your word that you’ll surrender yourself to the police immediately afterwards; if not, I’m going off here and now to tell them all I’ve learnt about you.’
I knew that I was up against it. Since I was unable to tell her the truth about my wretched past it had risen up to shackle me. Unless I should have phenomenal luck on the following evening O’Kieff would have won his second round against me without lifting a finger.
10
Dope
‘It’s nice to know that you attach some value to my word.’ I said acidly.
‘I’ll take it for what it may be worth,’ she replied.
‘I shrugged. ‘You have it then. I’m so dog-tired I simply couldn’t stand up to a police enquiry tonight and twenty-four hours is better than nothing.’
Harry, looking like a P. G. Wodehouse character, stood there fingering his little wisp of flaxen moustache and goggling at us with his round, blue eyes. By way of showing his sympathy he poured me another glass of champagne and, tired as I was, as I took it from him my weary brain began to turn over this new situation.
I attributed the fact that I had so far managed to evade the police to no particular cleverness on my own but entirely to the frequent changes in my appearance. Having landed the previous evening at Alexandria as a well-dressed, bearded Briton, I had become within an hour a clean-shaven Arab dragoman; by half-past four in the morning I was a Red Indian Brave and by half-past eleven a poor Greek workman; nine hours later, out by the Pyramids, I had changed yet again, but my last metamorphosis had brought me much nearer to the original than I cared about.
It is true that I still sported the sallow skin of the Greek and that the loss of my beard would prevent any casual shipboard acquaintance knowing me again at first sight; but in all other respects I was once again my normal self and even the better-class Levantines living in Cairo do not usually wear Saville Row clothes.
‘Harry,’ I said, ‘will you do me a favour?’
‘Of course, old man.’
‘My own suit fits me much too well. D’you mind lending me one of yours so that I can go about without being quite such an easy mark for the police tomorrow?’
‘By all means,’ he agreed. ‘Take your choice out of the little lot in the wardrobe.’
Harry was a few inches shorter than myself and a good deal fatter; he also had a passion for large checks which I rarely wear, so I selected a pair of grey flannel trousers, a white-and-green check jacket and a Fair Isle pullover.
As I packed the things into my small suitcase I said to Sylvia, ‘You’ve had a long and trying day. Miss Shane, so perhaps you’d like me to see you back to your hotel.’
‘Thank you,’ she said without enthusiasm. ‘I’m staying at the Continental, but I don’t want to take you out of your way.’
‘That’s no distance,’ I replied. ‘And this time I really can promise not to lead you into a swamp.’
Clarissa showed by the lack of warmth in her goodnight to Sylvia that she was quite definitely on my side and she made her feeling patent by exclaiming:
‘Julian, dear, I simply must give you something to take with you for luck. What shall it be?—I know!’
Running to her jewel-box she came back with a golden sovereign which she pressed into my hand. ‘The image of St. George and the dragon. You’ll be St. George, you see, and O’Kieff the dragon. If you carry that tomorrow night it will remind you that both Harry’s thoughts and mine are with you.’
‘A St. George who has no history,’ Sylvia remarked with a cynical little laugh.
I ignored the gibe and thanked Clarissa for her sweet thought just as nicely as I knew how; after which Harry insisted on seeing Sylvia and myself downstairs.
We went out by the side
-entrance opposite the Kasr el Nil, by which I had come in, and were fortunate in not having to pass anyone except a solitary native servant. There were no taxis outside so we started to walk along until we could pick one up.
It was late now and the broad street was empty except for a few passing vehicles, pedestrians hurrying homeward and the ragged beggars who infested Cairo by night as well as by day. The growing good will that had marked the first part of my talk with Sylvia out by the IVth Dynasty tombs had completely evaporated. My inability to speak about my past and the dance I had led her through the cotton-fields seemed entirely to have destroyed her earlier impulse to regard me as a friend and we walked along side by side in uneasy silence.
Just as we were passing a side-turning a whimpering cry caused us to pull up and stare down at it. A few feet away a hefty Arab was belabouring a small boy with a heavy stick.
‘Excuse me a minute,’ I said, and stepping forward I caught the Arab’s wrist. With one swift wrench I forced him to drop his stick, at the same time giving him my left, hard, in the pit of the stomach. With a choking gasp he collapsed into the gutter while the small boy ran off into the darkness. Next moment I had rejoined Sylvia and we were walking on.
‘More heroics for my benefit, Mr. Day?’ she inquired sarcastically.
‘Certainly not,’ I replied with some heat. ‘It’s only that I don’t like to see small children hurt; but I suppose, to you that sounds only an extremely pompous statement.’
‘No,’ she said slowly, ‘and I take back what I said. It was mean of me and quite unjustified. I can’t make you out at all, though.’
‘Why? I’m a perfectly normal person.’
‘Is it normal for a man who is being hunted by the police to risk attracting their attention to himself by entering into a street brawl?’
‘I’m afraid I hadn’t thought of that,’ I confessed. ‘Perhaps it was silly of me but I acted on the impulse of the moment. I’m not used to thinking of myself as a criminal.’
‘So it seems. Yet you’re certainly hiding something. That’s what puzzles me so.’
An empty taxi cruised past us but it hardly seemed worth while to take it now as we were more than half-way to the Continental.
‘I’m hiding nothing,’ I assured her, ‘which could have the least bearing on your father’s death.’
We covered another hundred yards in silence then she said suddenly, ‘I’m afraid you think I’m being very hard on you. Mr. Day.’
‘No,’ I replied. ‘It’s just that my objective is a more complex than yours, that’s all. You’re out to get your father’s murderer, whoever he may be, and you’ll be satisfied with that. To the best of me belief, I’m after the same person for the same thing and for many other crimes as well. But I’m using larger maps than you because I know him to be one of the heads of a great organisation for evil and I want to do my best to cripple that, if not break it up, in the process of getting even with him.’
‘If you discovered that the murderer was not O’Kieff but one of his people you’d let him go rather than spoil your chance of pinning something on O’Kieff himself later, wouldn’t you?
‘Yes, I would. Unfortunately this dragon is the sort of beast that can grow fresh talons by the dozen overnight and I want to strike off its head, not one of its claws.’
‘I suppose you’re right about that and perhaps I’m taking a narrow view,’ she said more gently. ‘You see, I only learnt about Daddy’s death this morning and I was most terribly fond of him. I’ve got enough of the primitive in me to want to get the actual brute who struck him down and I feel the police stand a far better chance of doing that than an amateur like yourself.’
‘I quite understand,’ I assured her, ‘and, tired as I am, I’d go to them myself this minute if it didn’t mean me being thrown out of Egypt. It’s bad enough having to cash in my checks tomorrow night.’
We had reached the steps of the Continental. The broad terrace overlooking Ezbekîyeh Gardens and the Opera Square was in semi-darkness but the bright light from the doorway of the hotel fell on her lovely face as she turned and held out her hand:
‘I’m afraid I am being hard, but I just can’t help it. Please don’t think too badly of me.’
‘I don’t,’ I smiled.
‘All right, then. When you’ve got Harry’s clothes on and have collected a tarboosh nobody’s likely to pay much attention to you. Just to show there’s no ill-feeling, come and have a cocktail with me here to-morrow evening at six. I’d like to see you again before you risk yourself in that place of Gamal’s.’
‘Does that mean you’ve abandoned your theory that I’m probably a crook?’
‘Not necessarily. There are nasty crooks and nice ones and I don’t mind entertaining the more pleasant variety providing they don’t actually try to do me down.’ With the suggestion of a smile she left me and disappeared into the hotel.
From the rank in the square I took one of the ancient open carriages, called arabiehs, that ply for hire in Cairo at all hours. It was not far to the cheap pension where Amin had taken a room for me but on the way the gentle clopping of the old horse’s hoofs nearly sent me to sleep and by the time I had climbed to a third-storey room my legs were almost giving under me.
It was over sixty hours since I had woken in my cabin on the morning of the day that Sir Walter was murdered. That night I had only four hours’ sleep and nearly twenty-four hours later I had managed to snatch another three hours in the Tomb of the Bulls. For the last thirty hours I had been a hunted man and continual excitement had sustained me, but now I was all in; pulling off my clothes I flopped into bed, sinking at once into a deep and dreamless sleep.
It was after midday when I woke; the streets of Cairo were dangerous for me and, since there was nothing I could do until the evening, I just turned over and dozed for the best part of the afternoon.
The bathing accommodation at the pension was far from being all that I could have wished, but I made do with it and, much refreshed by my long sleep. I dressed myself in Harry’s clothes and went out to make a few purchases.
I got a bright-blue, soft-collared shirt, a tarboosh, a green tie with white camels printed on it and a ghastly pair of lemon-yellow leather shoes with long, pointed toes. I then drove to Groppi’s, the famous patisserie in the Sharia Kasr el Nil where I purchased two boxes of their huge chocolates for Sylvia and Clarissa and let myself go on a fine selection of sweets for myself. My eyes have always been bigger than my tummy when let loose in a good sweet-shop and, although I knew quite well that I should never be able to eat them all, I could not resist buying my favourite fondants, caramel moue, almond brittle, nougat, fruit jellies and violet chocolate creams, and I had positively to drag myself away or else I should have left with another half-dozen boxes.
Returning to the pension I put on my new items of attire and, regarding myself in the spotted mirror over the old-fashioned, marble-topped washstand, congratulated myself upon my appearance. Harry’s clothes were not too conspicuously full round the waist but both the sleeves of the coat and the bottoms of the trousers were a good couple of inches too short for me which made them look like ready-mades. With my yellowish complexion and flashy haberdashery I now looked a typical middle-class Egyptian and no one, I think, would have suspected that I was an ex-member of His Britannic Majesty’s Diplomatic Service or a product of Eton and Oxford.
The only thing that bothered me was a slight cold. Like a fool I had not troubled to dry my feet properly after getting them soaked when wading through the cotton-fields with Sylvia the previous evening and it looked as if I was going to pay the penalty of my carelessness.
When I arrived at the Continental the terrace was crowded with a hundred or more people sitting over their evening drinks and watching the multi-coloured life of Cairo pass in the street below. Clarissa and Harry were at a table with Sylvia. Harry recognised his own coat as I came towards them but the two girls looked quite startled for a moment until they realised t
he identity of the flashy young stranger who bowed before them.
My green tie with the camels on it caused quite a lot of laughter, but I was not too conspicuous as at least half the men on the terrace were Egyptians wearing tarbooshes with European clothes and I might quite well have been a minor official or a merchant who had been asked along to discuss some deal in the jewels or antiquities which make up so much of Cairo’s trade with wealthy European visitors. The chocolates were accepted with cries of glee by Clarissa and more appreciation than I had expected by Sylvia, although, I learnt later, she rarely ate sweets.
She was looking pale and tired; quite evidently feeling the reaction from the day before and beginning to realise fully the fact that she had really lost her father. To distract her from her grief as much as possible during the day I learnt that the Belvilles had made her show them some of the sights.
Harry found Cairo disappointing; a shoddy, second-rate capital, he called it; and it is quite true that although it has many fine modern buildings these are much too dispersed to be effective. Even in the main streets they are so often separated by blocks of tawdry shops, and the hundreds of fine old mosques, in which lie the city’s true glory, are invariably surrounded by the tumble-down structures of the poorer inhabitants.
Clarissa, however, was thoroughly enjoying herself. She had bought every sort of useless nonsense in the Mouski that morning. The narrow alleyways and long, dark shops of the Bazaar had intrigued her so much that neither Sylvia nor Harry had been able to persuade her that she could buy the same sort of junk cheaper in Birmingham or Hamburg.
In the afternoon they had visited old Cairo where the three religions have been practised side by side in amity for centuries. At the Jewish synagogue they had seen the oldest copy of the Torah in the world, said to have been penned direct from that which was kept in the Temple of David at Jerusalem. In the Coptic Christian church they had visited the tiny crypt believed to have been the place where the Virgin sheltered with the Holy Child during her flight into Egypt. But the Mosque of Amr seemed to have intrigued Clarissa even more particularly the story that one of its three hundred and sixty-six columns had travelled all the way through the air from Mecca upon being struck by Mohammed with a whip and that the Faithful believe the whole mosque will fly back there one last Friday in the month of Ramadan. Although normally deserted, its great courtyard is packed to suffocation with thousands upon thousands of believers on each of these holy anniversaries.
The Quest of Julian Day Page 14