The light of day as-1

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The light of day as-1 Page 17

by Eric Ambler


  “Bless ’em all!”

  “Bless ’em all!”

  “Drink!”

  At that moment there was an indistinct shout from the direction of the dining room. Then a door along the passage was flung open, and there were quick footsteps. I heard Miss Lipp call out: “Hans!” Then Fischer came into the kitchen. He was carrying a plateful of food.

  As Geven turned unsteadily to confront him, Fischer yelled something in Turkish and then flung the plate straight at his head.

  The plate hit Geven on the shoulder and then crashed to the floor; but quite a lot of food went onto his face. Gravy ran down his smock.

  Fischer was still shouting. Geven stared at him stupidly. Then, as Fischer flung a final insult and turned to go, a most peculiar expression came over Geven’s face. It was almost like a wide-eyed smile. “ Monsieur est servi,” he said. At the same instant, I saw his hand dart out for the chopping knife.

  I shouted a warning to Fischer, but he was already out in the passage. Geven was after him in a flash. By the time I got through the door, Fischer was already backing away and yelling for help. There was blood streaming from a gash on his face and he had his hands up trying to protect himself. Geven was hacking and slashing at him like a madman.

  As I ran forward and clung onto the arm wielding the chopping knife, Harper came into the passage from the dining room.

  “Senden illallah!” bawled Geven.

  Then Harper hit him in the side of the neck and he went down like an empty sack.

  Fischer’s arms and hands were pouring blood now, and he stood there looking down at them as if they did not belong to him.

  Harper glanced at me. “Get the car around, quick.”

  I stopped the car at the foot of the steps and went in through the front of the house. It did not seem to be a moment for standing on ceremony.

  Fischer was sitting in a marble-floored washroom just off the main hall. Harper and Miss Lipp were wrapping his hands and arms in towels; Miller was trying to stanch the face wound. The Hamuls were running round in circles.

  Harper saw me and motioned to Hamul. “Ask the old guy where the nearest doctor is. Not a hospital, a private doctor.”

  “I will ask him,” muttered Fischer. His face was a dirty gray.

  I caught Hamul’s arm and shoved him forward.

  There were two doctors in Sariyer, he said, but the nearest was outside Bulyukdere in the other direction. He would come to the villa if called by telephone.

  Harper shook his head when Fischer told him this. “We’ll go to him ,” he said. “We’ll give him five hundred lira and tell him you tripped over an electric fan. That should fix it.” He looked at Miss Lipp. “You and Leo had better stay here, honey. The fewer, the better.”

  She nodded.

  “I don’t know the way to this doctor’s house,” I said. “May we take Hamul as a guide?”

  “Okay.”

  Harper sat in the back with Fischer and a supply of fresh towels; Hamul came in front with me.

  The doctor’s house was two miles along the coast road. When we got there, Fischer told Hamul to wait outside in the car with me; so it was not possible for me to walk back and tell the men in the Opel what was going on. Presumably, they would find out from the doctor later on. Hamul fingered the leather of the seat for a while, then curled up on it and went to sleep. I tried to see if I could get out without waking him, but the sound of the door opening made him sit up instantly. After that, I just sat there and smoked. I suppose that I should have written a cigarette packet message about the car doors and dropped it then-Hamul wouldn’t have noticed that-but at that point I still thought that I was going to be able to make a verbal report later.

  They were inside well over an hour. When he came out, Fischer didn’t look too bad at first sight. The cut on his face had a lint dressing neatly taped over it, and his left arm was resting in a small sling of the kind that suggests comfort for a minor sprain rather than a serious injury. But when he got closer I could see that both his hands and forearms were quite extensively bandaged, and that the left hand was cupped round a thick pad taped so as to immobilize the fingers. I got out and opened the door for him. He smelled of disinfectant and surgical spirit.

  He and Harper got in without a word, and remained silent on the way back to the villa.

  Miller and Miss Lipp were waiting on the terrace. As I pulled up into the courtyard, they came down the steps. I opened the door for Fischer. He got out and walked past them into the house. Still, nothing was said. Hamul was already making for his own quarters at the back. Miller and Miss Lipp came up to Harper.

  “How is he?” Miller asked. There was nothing solicitous about the question. It was a grim request for information.

  “The left hand has seven stitches on one cut, four on another, more stitches on the arm. The right forearm has seven stitches. The other cuts weren’t so deep. The doctor was able to tape those up. He gave him some shots and a sedative.” His eyes went to Miss Lipp. “Where’s the cook?”

  “Gone,” she said. “When he woke up, he asked if he could go to his room. We let him. He just packed his things and went off on that scooter of his. We didn’t try to stop him.”

  He nodded.

  “But about Fischer…” Miller began, his teeth showing as if he wanted to eat someone.

  Harper broke in firmly. “Let’s go inside, Leo.” He turned to me. “You can put the car away for now, Arthur, but I may want it again later to drive to Pendik, so you stick around. Make yourself some coffee in the kitchen, then I’ll know where to find you.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  When I got to the kitchen I found that someone, Mrs. Hamul no doubt, had washed the dishes and cleaned the place up. The charcoal fires on the range were not quite dead, but I made no attempt to revive one. I found a bottle of red wine and opened that.

  I was getting anxious. It was nearly ten-thirty and the radio call was due at eleven; but I didn’t so much mind missing another Essential you report progress; it was the undelivered report on the car doors that bothered me. Obviously, Fischer’s getting hurt had thrown some sort of wrench into the works and changes of plan were being made. If those changes meant that I was going to be up all night driving Harper to Pendik and back, I would have to deliver the message via a cigarette packet after all. I went into the scullery, in case Harper should suddenly come into the kitchen, and wrote the message- Car doors now empty, check gorage near Spanish Consulate- on a piece of paper torn off a shelf lining. I felt better when I had done that. My other assignment for the night, the search for the mysterious map, didn’t worry me at all. In fact, though it may seem funny now, at that point in the proceedings I had completely forgotten about it.

  It was after eleven-thirty and I had finished the last of the wine, when there was the sound of a door opening and Harper came through from the dining room. I got to my feet.

  “Sorry to keep you up this late, Arthur,” he said; “but Mr. Miller and I are having a friendly argument, and we want you to help us decide who’s right. Come in.”

  I followed him through the dining room, and along a passage to the room in which I had seen them the previous night.

  It was L-shaped and even bigger than I had thought. When I had looked through the windows, all I had seen had been the short arm of the L. The long arm went all the way to the main entrance hall. There was a low platform with a concert-size grand piano on it. The room looked as if it had been used at some time for “musical soirees.”

  Miss Lipp and Miller were sitting at the library desk. Fischer was in the background, sitting in an armchair with his head thrown back so that he stared at the ceiling. I thought for a moment that he had passed out, but as I came in he slowly raised his head and stared at me. He looked terrible.

  “Sit down, Arthur.” Harper motioned me to a chair facing Miller.

  I sat down. Miss Lipp was watching Miller. Miller was watching me through his rimless glasses. The toothy smile was ther
e as ever, but it was the most unamused smile I have ever seen; it was more like a grimace.

  Harper leaned against the back of the settee.

  “It’s really two problems, Arthur,” he said. “Tell me this. How long does it take to get to Pendik at this time of night? The same as during the day?”

  “Less, perhaps; but it would depend on the ferry to Uskudar.”

  “How often does that run at night?”

  “Every hour, sir.”

  “So if we missed one it could take us well over two hours?”

  “Yes.”

  He looked at Miller. “Two hours to Pendik, two hours to persuade Giulio, two more hours to persuade Enrico…”

  “If he would be persuaded,” Miss Lipp put in.

  Harper nodded. “Of course. And then two hours back. Not a very restful night, Leo.”

  “Then postpone,” Miller snapped.

  Harper shook his head. “The overheads, Leo. If we postpone, it means abandon. What will our friends say to that?”

  “It is not their necks.” Miller looked resentfully at Fischer. “If you had not…” he began, but Harper cut him off sharply.

  “We’ve been over all that, Leo. Now, why don’t you at least give it a whirl?”

  Miller shrugged.

  Harper looked at me. “We want to make an experiment, Arthur. Do you mind going over there and standing against the wall with your back against it?”

  “Over here?”

  “That’s right. Your back touching the wall.” He went over to Fischer, picked up a length of thick cord which was lying across the bandaged hands, and threw one end of it to me. I saw that the other end was attached to a leg of the settee. “Now here’s what it is, Arthur,” he went on; “I’ve told Mr. Miller that you can pull that settee six feet towards you just with the strength of your arms. Of course, your back’s leaning against the wall, so you can’t use your weight to help you. It has to be just your arms. Mr. Miller says you can’t do it, and he’s got a hundred-dollar bill that says he’s right. I’ve got one that says he’s wrong. If he wins, I pay. If I win, you and I split fifty-fifty. How about it?”

  “I’ll try,” I said.

  “Very well, begin,” said Miller. “Your shoulders against the wall, your heels not more than ten centimeters from it and together.” He moved over so that he could see that I didn’t cheat.

  I have always detested that kind of parlor trick; in fact, I dislike any sort of trial of physical strength. They always remind me of a lot of boys I once saw in the school lavatories. They were standing in a row seeing who could urinate the farthest. Suddenly they started laughing and then began to aim at each other. I happened to get in the way and it was very unpleasant. In my opinion, rugger is the same kind of thing-just childish, smelly, homosexual horseplay. I always got out of it whenever I could. Today, any sort of exercise brings on my indigestion immediately.

  Frankly, then, I didn’t think that there was the slightest chance of my being able to pull that heavy settee one foot, much less six. I am not particularly strong in the arms anyway. Why should I be? I have enough strength to lift a suitcase and drive a car; what more do I want?

  “Go on,” said Miller. “Pull with all your strength!”

  I should have done as he said and fallen flat on my face. Then, Harper would have lost a hundred dollars, and I should have been spared the ordeal. But Miss Lipp had to interfere.

  “Just a minute, Arthur,” she said; “I tried this and I couldn’t do it. But you’re a man with a good pair of shoulders on you, and I think you can do it.”

  Even if I had never heard her use the phrase “indignant sheep” about me, I would have known this heavy-handed guile for what it was. I do not have a good pair of shoulders on me. I have narrow, sloping ones. Women who think they can get away with that childish sort of flattery make me sick. I was really annoyed. Unfortunately, that made me go red. She smiled. I suppose she thought I was blushing because of her bloody compliment.

  “I’m not much good at this sort of game,” I said.

  “The thing is to pull on the cord steadily, Arthur. Don’t jerk it. Pull steadily, and when it starts moving, keep pulling steadily hand over hand. It’s an easy fifty dollars. I know you can do it.”

  I was getting really browned off with her now. “All right, you bitch,” I thought to myself; “I’ll show you!” So I did the exact opposite of what she’d said. I jerked on the cord as hard as I could.

  The settee moved a few inches; but, of course, what I’d done by jerking it, was to get the feet out of the dents they’d made for themselves in the thick carpet. After that, I just kept on pulling and it slid some more. As it got nearer it became easier because I was pulling up as well as along.

  Harper looked at Miller. “What about it, Leo?”

  Miller felt my arms and shoulders as if he were buying a horse. “He is flabby, out of condition,” he said sourly.

  “But he did the trick,” Harper reminded him.

  Miller spread out his hands as if to abandon the argument.

  Harper took a note from his wallet. “Here, Arthur,” he said, “fifty dollars.” He paused and then went on quietly: “How would like to earn two thousand?”

  I stared at him.

  “Sit down,” he said.

  I sat down and was glad to do so. My legs were trembling. With two thousand dollars I could buy a Central American passport that would be good for years; and it would be a real passport, too. I know, because I have looked into such matters. As long as you don’t actually go to the country concerned, there’s no trouble at all. You just buy the passport. That’s the way their consuls abroad line their pockets. Of course, I knew it was all a pipe dream. Even if I did whatever it was they wanted, Harper wasn’t going to be in a position to pay me, because the chances were that Tufan would have him in jail by then. Still, it was a good dream.

  “I’d like that very much,” I said.

  They were all watching me intently now.

  “Don’t you want to know what you have to do for it?” Harper asked.

  I wasn’t going to let him walk all over me. I sat back. “What Mr. Fischer was going to do, I suppose,” I answered; “that is, if he hadn’t that little accident this evening.”

  Miss Lipp laughed. “I told you Arthur wasn’t as simple as he looks,” she said.

  “What else do you know, Arthur?” This was Harper again.

  “Only what Miss Lipp told me, sir-that you are all very sensible, tolerant persons, who are very broad-minded about things that the law doesn’t always approve of, but who don’t like taking risks.”

  “I told you all that, Arthur?” She pretended to be surprised.

  “It was what I gathered, Miss Lipp.”

  Harper smiled. “All right, Arthur,” he said; “suppose we just leave it there. We have a deal.”

  “I think I’m entitled to know a little more than that.”

  “And you will, Arthur. We’ll be leaving here tomorrow afternoon around three, bags packed and everything because we won’t be coming back. Before we go you’ll have a complete briefing. And don’t worry. All you have to do is just pull on a rope at the right place and time. Everything else is taken care of.”

  “Is this a police matter?”

  “It would be if they knew about it, but they don’t. I told you, you don’t have to worry. Believe me, you’ve taken bigger risks in Athens for a lot less than two thousand.”

  “On that subject, sir, I think I am now entitled to have my letter back.”

  Harper looked questioningly at Miller and Fischer. The latter began to talk in German. He spoke slowly and wearily now, and I guessed that the sedative had taken effect, but his attitude was clear enough. So was Miller’s. Harper turned to me and shook his head regretfully.

  “I’m sorry, Arthur, that’ll have to wait. In fact, my friends seem to feel that you may be quite a security risk for the next twelve hours or so.”

  “I don’t understand.”


  “Sure you do.” He grinned. “I’ll bet the idea’s been churning around in that cute little brain of yours for the last five minutes. ‘If two hands on a rope are worth two thousand dollars to these people, what would a tip-off be worth to the police?’ ”

  “I assure you…”

  “Of course you do, Arthur. I was only kidding.” His tone was quite friendly. “But you see the problem. We like to feel safe. Even that letter doesn’t mean much here. Do you have the car keys?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me have them.”

  I handed them to him.

  “You see we wouldn’t want you to have second thoughts and maybe walk out on us,” he explained.

  “And we would not like him to use the telephone,” said Miller.

  “That’s right.” Harper thought for a moment. “Hans is going to need help undressing,” he said; “and the doctor’s given him another antibiotic he has to take. I think it would be best if we made up an extra bed in his room and Arthur slept there.”

  “So that he can kill me when I am helpless and get out by the window?” Fischer demanded thickly.

  “Oh, I don’t think Arthur would do that. Would you, Arthur?”

  “Of course not.”

  “That’s right. But we don’t want Hans to be worrying, do we? The doctor says he really needs to sleep. And you should have a good night’s sleep, too, Arthur. You won’t get any tomorrow night. You wouldn’t mind taking a couple of good strong sleeping pills, would you? Or maybe even three?”

  I hesitated.

  “Oh, they won’t hurt you, Arthur.” Miss Lipp gave me a fond smile. “I’ll tell you what. If you’ll be a good boy and take your pills, I’ll take one, too. We’ll all need our sleep tomorrow.”

  What could I say?

  9

  My head felt as if it had been stuffed with steel wool. There was even a metallic taste in my mouth. It took me some time to remember where I was. I could hear a loud buzzing noise. When, at last, I managed to open my eyes, I saw Fischer. The buzzing came from an electric shaver which he was holding, awkwardly, in his right hand.

 

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