Mariah Mundi and the Ghost Diamonds

by G. P. Taylor

  ‘How do you know of that?’ Mariah asked.

  ‘We haven’t time,’ Sacha insisted as she began to drag Mariah away.

  ‘I need to know, Sacha, I need to know,’ Mariah replied as he stared at the gilded face.

  ‘It’s useless, Sacha.’ Packavi laughed, the sound of his voice echoing in the dark tunnel. ‘Mariah Mundi is like a fish caught on a hook. He will not be happy unless he knows everything. See – you only have enough phosphorus for another few minutes and then all will be in darkness. That doesn’t bother me. I have lived in dark places for so long my eyes are as good as any creature of the night. But you Mariah, how you cling to the light. I could tell you things about yourself that even you don’t know. You are a pawn in a game that surrounds you – and you are more important to its outcome than you would ever imagine.’

  ‘Don’t listen to him, Mariah – we have to go,’ Sacha said.

  ‘What do you know of me?’ he asked.

  ‘I know that it was not by chance that you were brought to this place. The Prince Regent is your destiny,’ Packavi replied. ‘Just let me go and I will tell you everything.’

  Mariah looked at Packavi and then to Sacha. He thought for a moment, his desire torn in two.

  ‘Grimm and Grendel – they’ll be here soon,’ Sacha persisted. ‘They sent him in because they knew you had a gun – three bullets, that’s what they said. They’ll think you’ve killed him and they’ll come after you – we can’t be waiting here, Mariah.’

  ‘I have to know,’ he said as he took hold of the handle to drop the gate from the ceiling.

  ‘Set me free, Mariah, and I will tell you. Things about your parents – your life at the Colonial School – everything – how Charity will betray you. The Bureau of Antiquities cares little for you. All you are to them is bait in a trap … Set me free – I can do you no harm.’

  ‘Don’t trust him, Mariah – it’s a trick,’ Sacha said as she tried to pull him away.

  Mariah looked at her and smiled. ‘I have to know the truth. You know your family and I need to know mine. What harm can he do us on the other side of the gate?’

  ‘That’s right, Mariah. What harm can I do you here? My weapon is broken and my desire to kill you has gone. I see so much of you in me – I was once an agent for the Bureau and I can see from your heart that you seek enlightenment. Let me go, Mariah, and I promise to help you.’

  Packavi pleaded as he dangled from the iron bars. He looked sad and pathetic. The mask hung from its silk straps about his chin. Half his face was edged in gold, the other scarred beyond recognition. He smiled at Mariah.

  ‘And you will tell me everything and want nothing in return?’ Mariah asked.

  ‘He’s not to be trusted,’ Sacha said again and again as she could see her companion’s heart turning towards Packavi before her eyes.

  ‘Everything, everything …’ Packavi said in a voice of cold

  steel. ‘I know things of you that you wouldn’t believe. Gormenberg – the Midas Box – Isambard Black …’

  ‘You know of Isambard?’ Mariah asked as his hand edged towards the handle.

  ‘Know him well, and his brother Perfidious. I served with both of them,’ Packavi said quickly. ‘Just let me go and I will tell you more.’

  Mariah took hold of the handle. Sacha grabbed his arm as she screamed at him. ‘You can’t do this – he’s a killer!’

  ‘Nothing so dull, my dear girl. I am an assassin for a worthwhile cause – I never kill for the sake of it.’ Packavi laughed.

  The handle fell in an instant. There was a sudden rush of air as the gate slid from the roof with a snap. Packavi dropped to the floor. Then the gate halted suddenly, half open.

  ‘No!’ screamed Sacha as she saw Packavi reach in to the back of his coat and pull from his belt a long thin knife. His eyes flashed from her to Mariah and then to the gate. He got to his feet. In the blink of an eye he dived towards the gate. Mariah stood mesmerised, unable to move, as he realised he had been betrayed by his own curiosity.

  In that second Packavi was forcing his way under the gate. Mariah pulled the handle yet again. The gate shot to the ceiling and crashed against the stone. It showered them in fragments of dust and rock as up above the turning cogs whirred furiously. Packavi got to his feet and held out the knife.

  ‘Stupid boy,’ he said as he cut the air with the blade.

  Sacha tried to drag Mariah away but he held his ground in front of the man.

  ‘I gave you a chance,’ Mariah said as he pulled the handle once more.

  The gate crashed to the ground with an incredible force. Packavi was crushed beneath it. He lay motionless as the bars pinned him to the floor, one either side of his body.

  ‘Is he dead?’ Sacha asked, taking her hands from her face and shining the torch upon him.

  ‘He’s still breathing,’ Mariah said as he brushed aside the discarded mask and looked at Packavi’s face. ‘I think I know this man, he seems so familiar.’

  ‘Perhaps you do,’ said Grendel a few feet away. ‘Isn’t it time you ended all this?’

  ‘Run!’ Mariah shouted as the detective reached through the bars and easily took hold of the handle.

  ‘The trick, Mr Grimm, is to flick the handle without the gate pinning you to the ceiling – isn’t that right, Packavi?’

  ‘Your humour is wasted, Mr Grendel,’ Packavi replied as he pushed against the bars with the strength of several men. ‘And Mundi and the girl flee into the darkness.’

  ‘We shall not follow, Packavi. We shall wait our time. We were delayed by news – news that changes the task ahead …’

  Mariah and Sacha couldn’t hear what was said. Their feet clattered against the stone as they ran off. Mariah knew that soon Grendel would move the handle and the gate would smash into the ceiling and Packavi would be free. Then they would follow, track them through the tunnel until it reached the town. All he knew was that they had to reach the Prince Regent.

  The tunnel twisted and turned as the light from the phosphorus torch grew dimmer by the yard. Ahead in the murk they could see that the passageway narrowed and was blocked by a small doorway. It was made of thick, studded wood, braced with straps of metal. It was old and blackened by years of smoke and strewn with dank cobwebs. In the middle of the door was a lock, and in the lock an iron key.

  Sacha put her ear to the door and listened.

  ‘I can hear running water, sounds like a stream,’ she said as Mariah turned the key as carefully as he could.

  The door opened, the hinges groaning with rust. Mariah peered through the doorway into the cavernous room beyond. A set of iron steps led up from the door and across a narrow sewer to a passageway on the other side. A tall iron ladder ran up the wall to the street above. It was held in place by rusted bolts that precariously gripped the metal to the stone. Through the grates above their heads came a fall of steam-damped soot. It fell like black rain in time with the hissing of a large steam engine.

  ‘It’s the railway station,’ Sacha said as an engine moved above them, shaking the ground like an earthquake. ‘This tunnel must be two miles long.’

  ‘But what good would a tunnel from the castle do coming to here?’ Mariah asked as he locked the door behind them and put the key in his pocket so that no one could follow.

  ‘How do you think the Ghosts get the stuff from the town?’ Sacha asked.

  ‘Ghosts?’ Mariah asked.

  ‘Smugglers – Vackans – Night Hawkers,’ Sacha replied as she stared upwards at the long shaft of light that came from the grate underneath the platform. ‘We call them Ghosts as they’re not supposed to exist – well, everyone knows they do, but we don’t speak of them.’

  ‘So why do they have a tunnel to the castle?’ Mariah asked as they crossed the bridge.

  ‘The whole town is full of them, they go everywhere. My father said there is a fortune hidden. Ghost Diamonds. Lost for ever when the gang were caught and hung for what they’d done. Told no one – the
y were even promised to be let off if they said where the treasure was, but even on the gallows they kept silent. If they were not going to have the Ghost Diamonds, then no one would.’

  ‘Ghost Diamonds?’ Mariah asked as they reached the ladder.

  ‘Biggest in the world, my father said. Worth millions of pounds. Brought in on a ship from Holland – packed in casks of honey and wrapped in tar blankets. Seven diamonds, each as big as a fist.’

  ‘The tale of an old fishwife,’ Mariah replied as he shook the ladder to see if it was safe.

  Crumbs of plaster fell from high above as the ladder rattled.

  ‘I’ll go first,’ he said as he took the first faltering steps up the ladder. ‘Wait until I am halfway and then follow me.’

  Above them, the early-morning train came into the station. Mariah pushed the grate and presently they were both underneath a long line of railway carriages. Thick steam blew about them as they made their way silently along the inspection pit to the rear of the train. They could see the feet that pounded upon the platform, eager to be about their business. Some walked barefoot, others were brightly shod in crisp leather boots with neat buckles. Women scurried on tall heels and children wore galoshes against the wet. Soon they followed on. Mariah walked ahead of Sacha as if they didn’t know each other. They slipped quickly through the gate and into the street.

  The town was still lit by gas lamps as they scurried through the alleyways towards the Prince Regent. The dawn refused to break and a chill wind blew large drops of cold rain from the north. As they turned the corner towards the hotel they could see the Irenzee at anchor in the bay. The haar mist had gone, the lights of the ship shone in the water, and from beneath the waves the sea appeared to glow blood red.

  [ 17 ]

  The Blood Eye

  THE Prince Regent was deathly still and Mrs Mukluk was fast asleep. She was sprawled across her desk with her face pressed against a carved paperweight in the shape of Queen Victoria. In the lobby, Rhamses sat in a large chair with a newspaper over his head and his feet on a small table. He didn’t move. The sound of muffled snoring emanated from under the neatly ironed pages of the Evening Gazette.

  Sacha smiled at Mariah as they quietly walked by.

  ‘Food?’ he asked, his stomach creaking with pain.

  ‘Sausages,’ she replied as the thought of them made her mouth twitch with sheer delight.

  The kitchens were empty. Everything was stacked neatly away. The breakfasts for Zogel and his entourage had been prepared and left on four silver trays. All they needed was hot water for the urn of tea and there would be nothing more to do.

  Mariah set about making breakfast and listened out for the telephone to ring for room service. He knew Mrs Mukluk would sleep through the ringing of the bell as she did most mornings until the daytime receptionist woke her up and sent her off to bed.

  ‘So, all the guests went away?’ Sacha asked as the sausages fizzed in the large flat pan.

  ‘When the General exploded, I think they wondered who would be next. Some lasted out the night, then Captain was arrested for murder and everyone decided to leave – all except Zogel and his servants.’

  Sacha said nothing in reply as she picked a sausage from the pan with a silver fork and walked to the long window overlooking the bay. She thought for a moment and wondered about her father.

  ‘He’s not really that bad,’ she said on the spur of the moment.

  ‘Who?’ asked Mariah as he tipped a pile of mushrooms in with the sausages.

  ‘My father … I sometimes don’t know why he gets involved with the Ghosts. He told me he took over where someone left off, as if it was part of the job.’

  ‘Stand for nothing, fall for anything. That’s what Professor Bilton would always say. What do you think they’re bringing in?’ Mariah asked.

  ‘It’ll be from that ship and when it’s gone all will be right again,’ she said.

  ‘The Irenzee. It belongs to Mister Zogel – he’s a millionaire, what would he be doing smuggling?’

  ‘Where did he make his money? You have to start somewhere and sometimes old habits die hard – that’s what my father would always say.’ Sacha paused for a while as she ate her sausage and picked another from the pan. ‘What was it like at that school of yours?’ she asked.

  ‘Cold,’ Mariah said curtly.

  ‘Is that it – just cold?’

  ‘Cold food – cold beds – cold hearts. You could never make a friend for fear they would give away your secrets. That’s what

  the Colonial School was all about. Preparing the sons of Englishmen for foreign service.’

  ‘The Prince Regent isn’t foreign,’ she said sarcastically. ‘Couldn’t really call this town tropical, could you?’

  ‘It’s where I was sent. Professor Bilton said I had a job to do here,’ he replied.

  ‘I bet you regret coming here.’

  ‘It was the best thing that ever happened to me – I met you … and Captain Jack.’

  ‘Packavi said you were important – here for a reason.’

  ‘It was a lie. You were right. Just wanted me to open the gate. Never should have listened. I’ve spent all my life searching for answers to where my parents are. When someone tells you that they know, you’ll listen to whatever they say.’

  ‘So what are we going to do?’ she asked as she ate yet another sausage.

  ‘Sleep. Tell Rhamses he’s in charge and then sleep. Zogel should be easy enough to look after. Funny thing …’ Mariah paused and looked about the room as if he was checking that no one was there. ‘His servant – that poison dwarf Lucius. I saw him go to the Towers and then when I found the man in suite 217, that’s where he went to as well. That’s how I found you. Who lives there?’

  ‘It’s been rented out ever since –’ Sacha stopped before she finished her words.

  ‘Since what?’ Mariah asked.

  ‘Since nothing … Can’t talk about it. They say it’ll happen to you if you mention it,’ Sacha said quickly in broad Irish. ‘You’d never understand and I’d be an eedjut to tell you. Superstition. My mother would have me keep my mouth shut.’

  ‘You were kidnapped and taken there. If we knew the name of the man who rented it then we would have an idea who is behind all of this.’

  ‘It’s not a man – well, not one man anyway. It’s a sort of gentleman’s club. They meet across the road in Athol House – you must have seen them?’

  ‘That’s it,’ Mariah exclaimed as if struck by a flash of genius. ‘It all begins to fit. Walpole had the ring on his finger. It has the same symbol as what’s above the door of Athol House. Rhamses told me they kept everything secret. Do you know what they do?’

  ‘No one knows what they do or what they are called,’ she said quickly. ‘Not even my Father. They used to meet at the Old Globe Inn, and then they moved to the Athol five years ago. They must be important, the Queen’s son came to dinner with them – that’s why this hotel is called the Prince Regent.’

  ‘So Packavi was right, the Prince Regent is more than a hotel.’

  ‘My father wanted to become one of them – he said it would help his job. A man called Tyler said my father was a Fenian and they gave him the sign of the blood eye.’

  ‘Blood eye?’ Mariah asked as he stared at the fried egg that spat in the fat pan.

  ‘Blood eye,’ she said sullenly. ‘A bull’s eye, freshly cut and wrapped in a silk handkerchief. It’s what they give you when they don’t want you. Not a gentleman, they said. Too Irish, they said. I’m sure they thought he would blow the place up in an act of revolution. What would Tyler know? The man’s a greengrocer on Bar Street. I told him they weren’t worth the fuss but he wouldn’t listen.’

  ‘Did your father say what they did in Athol House?’ Mariah asked.

  ‘Secrets. That’s all he would say – secrets. They would go to Athol House and stay for the night. I even tried to watch them. If you stand on the wall in the alleyway you can see inside. The
y all march about and chant. There’s a meeting tonight,

  we could keep watch and see who goes there. Can’t stand secrets.’

  Mariah nodded in melancholy agreement. ‘Then where were you the other night after the combustions?’

  ‘I told you. In the hotel,’ Sacha replied as her eyes said she would take the conversation no further.

  ‘Why did you have salt marks on your boots and sand on your clothes?’ Mariah asked.

  Sacha didn’t reply. She turned from Mariah and looked out of the window to the ship.

  ‘You’d been out of the hotel. It was easy to see it. So why did you lie to me?’

  ‘I didn’t lie – I told the truth,’ Sacha said as she stared through the glass at the cold sea.

  ‘I looked everywhere for you. I thought you’d been captured. That’s what Titus Salt told me.’

  ‘Titus Salt, what does he know?’ Sacha scolded. ‘Fish in the tanks and fish in the head, that’s all Titus Salt has got.’

  ‘He can see things – he knew you were in danger. Knew I was too. It’s as if he can see the future. Saw you in a dark place all alone – that’s when you were in that coffin.’

  ‘Did he tell you anything else?’ she said furiously as she turned to face him. ‘If you must know, and I don’t think you do, a man in a black suit called at the kitchen door looking for me. He left a message saying my father wanted to see me by the pier – that he was in trouble. I went straight away. There was no one there. I looked for him and when I got back you saw me. I felt stupid and didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t think it mattered – you’re not my keeper. All you were thinking about was exploding Americans and Bureau business. I could see it in your face. You’re like a dog with a rat. Once you get your teeth into something nothing else matters, Mariah. Did you ever know that about yourself?’

  ‘It was Bureau business,’ he replied.

  ‘That’s your excuse for whenever you want to leave me out. Never seem to want to take a girl with you. Didn’t I help you enough when we fettled Gormenberg?’