Vulture Is a Patient Bird

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by James Hadley Chase


  Garry eyed the cheetah and shook his head.

  “He looks as if he could give a good account of himself.”

  “He can.”

  One of the waiters presented the main course which was a chicken browned in a casserole, the rib cage removed and the bird stuffed with diced lobster in a cream sauce, coloured by the coral of the lobster.

  “Ah! This is something out of the ordinary,” Kahlenberg said. “I got the recipe from one of the great Paris chefs. I think you will find it excellent.”

  While the waiter was carving the chicken, Kahlenberg chatted agreeably, but both Gaye and Garry could see his mind was only half with them. He was obviously occupied with some business problem and wasn’t giving them his entire attention.

  The chicken was excellent as Kahlenberg had said it would be, and both of them expressed their appreciation.

  Although the food was delicious, Gaye was relieved when the meal was over. She found she had to work hard to hold Kahlenberg’s interest. She was used to mixing with difficult people, but she mentally decided Kahlenberg was the stickiest host she bad ever met. He was polite, but distant and she knew she had only half his attention. But she kept the conversation going, avoiding dangerous topics, asked questions about himself, discussed New York, Paris and London with him while Garry kept more or less silent, admiring her persistance.

  As they were drinking coffee, Tak come out on to the terrace. He went up to Kahlenberg.

  “Excuse me, sir, Mr. Vorster is on the telephone.”

  Kahlenberg frowned.

  “Oh, yes, I had forgotten. Tell him I will call back in five minutes.”

  Tak bowed and went away.

  “I must apologize, Miss Desmond, but I regret I will now have to leave you to your own devices. I have work to do. I doubt if we will meet again before you leave. I am sorry about the photographs. I hope you enjoyed your dinner.”

  They got to their feet and both thanked him for his hospitality.

  He looked at them with an odd expression in his eyes, nodded, then set his chair in motion and drove off the terrace, followed by Hindenburg.

  Reaching his office, he found Tak waiting for him.

  “Thank you, Tak, those two were beginning to bore me. Lovely looking woman, of course, but a play thing.” He manoeuvred himself behind his desk. “They are being watched?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. And the other three?”

  “The guide no longer exists. Fennel and Jones are on the balancing rock watching through field glasses. They have been in contact with Edwards by two-way radio. Their conversation was intercepted. Fennel is coming here on his own, leaving Jones where he is. Edwards thinks we suspect him and is taking precautions.”

  “Very wise of him. All right, Tak, you can go to your bungalow. I have some work to do, but intend to retire at my usual time. The rest of the staff can go.”

  Tak hesitated.

  “Is it wise, sir?”

  “The guards will be here and Hindenberg. Yes, it is all right.” Kahlenberg looked thoughtfully at Tak. “It is much wiser that you don’t have anything to do with this little affair. Good night.”

  “Good night, sir,” and Tak went away.

  Kahlenberg settled down to read a mass of papers that had come by the afternoon air delivery.

  A little after half past ten, there came a soft tap on the door, Frowning, he called, “Come in.”

  Kemosa entered.

  “What is it?”

  “Zwide, one of the gardeners, master, is dead.”

  Kahlenberg raised his eyebrows.

  “Dead? How did it happen? An accident?”

  “I do not know, master. He complained of a headache and pains in his muscles. As he is always complaining, no one took any notice. Later he said his throat was on fire. A few minutes later, he fell down and died.”

  “Extraordinary thing. Well, bury him, Kemosa. I dare say his wife will be pleased. He is no loss.”

  Kemosa eyed his master, then bowed.

  “I will have it done, master,” and he went out, closing the door softly behind him.

  Kahlenberg sat back in his chair. A little smile that gave him a devilish expression lit up his face.

  So the Borgia ring was lethal.

  Chapter Eight

  When Gaye and Garry returned to their suite, they found all the windows and the doors leading to the terrace closed and the air conditioner in operation.

  Garry went immediately to the terrace doors and tried to open them, but they were securely locked and the key had been removed. When he tried to open one of the windows, he found it immovable.

  “Battened down for the night,” he said, scratching his head. Now, how the hell is Fennel going to get in?”

  “I thought you were being over optimistic. Is it likely they would leave all this open at night?” Gaye asked, sitting on the arm of a lounging chair. “What are you going to do?”

  “Alert Fennel. It’s his job to get in. Maybe he can cope with this lock.” Garry looked at his watch. The time was 22.00 hrs. He sat down and looked across at Gaye. “We have an hour to wait. What did you think of Kahlenberg?”

  Gaye grimaced.

  “I didn’t like him. I think he was bored with me and a man wh0 finds me boring can’t expect to be my favourite person.” She laughed. “What did you think of him?”

  “He’s dangerous,” Garry said soberly. “I’ll go further than that. I get the feeling, watching him, he isn’t quite sane. I still have the idea we have walked into a trap. But as we’re here, we’d be nuts not to have a go at the ring. I wonder if he was lying when he said the grounds weren’t patrolled at night. I’ll have to warn Fennel to be careful as he comes.”

  “You don’t think he’s sane… what do you mean?”

  “There’s something about his eyes… I’m not saying he is mad, but off balance.”

  “I’m sure you’re imagining all this, Garry. I can’t believe he could have let us see the museum if he really suspected us. I think he is soured by being a cripple, and if he was distant, then it was probably due to that… for all you know, he may be in pain.”

  “You could be right,” Garry shrugged. “But the whole set-up seems to me too easy.”

  “Are you going to check on the elevator?”

  “Of course. If it isn’t working, I don’t see how we can get at the door of the museum. I’ll wait half an hour, then I’ll go out and see.” He got up, crossed to the door and opened it. He looked down the deserted corridor. It was lighted, and in the far distance he could see the end of it terminating in double doors. “No one about.” He returned to the lounge, closing the door. “Could be tricky. If Tak or one of the servants come out of any of those rooms while I’m out there, I’m fixed. A fly couldn’t hide out there.”

  “You can always say you’re walking in your sleep.”

  Garry frowned at her.

  “I wish you would take this more seriously. You don’t seem to realize if we’re caught we could be in a very nasty situation.”

  “Let’s worry about that if and when it happens.”

  Garry suddenly grinned.

  “I guess you’re right. Come here and be kissed.”

  She shook her head.

  “Not now… we’re working.”

  He hesitated, then lighting a cigarette, he dropped into a chair.

  “If we get away with this, what are you going to do with the money, Gaye?” he asked.

  “Save it. I save all my money and invest it at six per cent in a Swiss bank. Soon, I’ll have a nice income and then Shalik can look

  for another slave.”

  “You don’t like him?”

  “Who would? He’s useful, but that’s all. And you, what are you going to do with your share?”

  “Take a course in electronics,” Garry said promptly. “I’ve always wanted to have an education, and up to now, I’ve never had the chance. With Shalik’s money, I’ll study, and then get myself a decent pay
ing job. There are lots of opportunities in the electronics field.”

  “You surprise me… you don’t strike me as the studious type. Do you plan to get married?”

  “Yes, but not until I’ve qualified. Then I will.”

  “Got the girl lined up yet?”

  He smiled at her.

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Who is she?”

  “No one you know… just a girl. We get along okay.”

  “I rather thought you were going to say me.”

  He laughed.

  “You would have said no anyway.”

  “Why are you so sure?”

  “You would, wouldn’t you?”

  Gaye smiled at him.

  “Yes. I wouldn’t want to marry an electronics engineer. When I marry it will be a man who thinks big, lives big and is rich.”

  “I know that. That’s why I’m picking Toni.”

  “Is that her name?”

  Garry nodded.

  “I wish you luck, Garry, and I hope you will be very happy with her.”

  “Thanks. I hope you will be happy too, but don’t pin too much on money.”

  Gaye looked thoughtful.

  “Life can be pretty rough without it.”

  “Yes.” He stubbed out his cigarette and stared up at the ceiling. “One’s got to have enough, of course, but all this…” he waved his hand around the luxuriously furnished room. “This isn’t necessary.”

  “It is to me.”

  “That’s where we differ.” He glanced at his watch. “I guess I’ll take a look at the elevator.”

  Gaye got to her feet.

  “I’ll come with you. If we run into anyone, we can say we felt like a walk in the garden and as we couldn’t get out through the terrace way we were going to try the front door.”

  “A bit thin… but it’ll have to do. Let’s go.”

  They moved silently out into the long corridor, paused to listen, heard nothing and then they walked fast down the corridor, passing the front door and on towards the hidden lift. Garry went to the window ledge and felt under it. His fingers found a button which he pressed. The wall slid back. They looked at each other, then motioning her to stay where she was, he approached the lift doors which swished silently open. He entered the cage, then first pressing the red button which Tak had told him turned off the alarm, he then pressed the green button. The doors closed and then the lift descended. When it reached ground level, Garry pressed the green button again and the lift ascended. He stepped into the corridor and reclosed the sliding wall.

  Taking Gaye’s hand in his, he ran silently down the corridor and back to their suite.

  “Well, it works,” he said, closing the door. Now everything depends on whether Fennel can get in and then, of course, if he can open the door to the museum.”

  After waiting a quarter of an hour, Garry picked up the two- way radio.

  Fennel answered immediately.

  Garry explained the situation and told Fennel the elevator was working. Fennel said there were still lights showing in the windows of the two extreme wings of the house.

  “The light on the right is mine,” Garry said. “The other light is from Kahlenberg’s quarters.”

  “The left wing light has gone out,” Fennel reported. “The only light now showing is where you are.”

  “Kahlenberg told me the grounds aren’t patrolled, Lew,” Garry said, “but I don’t trust him. Take your time and use every scrap of cover as you come. There could be some of the Zulu guards around.”

  “I’ll watch it. I’ll start now. It’ll take me a good half-hour to get to you. Ken will remain here until we signal him.”

  “Roger… out,” and Garry switched off. Turning to Gaye, he went on, “He’s on his way now. All the other lights have gone out.” He crossed to the bedside lamps and turned them on, then he turned off the ceiling lights. Going to the window, he peered into the darkness. The big moon was partially hidden by clouds, but after a few moments, his eyes became used to the darkness and he could make out the terrace furniture and beyond the beds of flowers.

  “We could be flying back to Mainville in a couple of hours,” Gaye said. “I’m going to change.”

  She went into the bedroom, took off the sari and put on her shirt and shorts. When she returned to the lounge, she found Garry had also changed. They sat on the bed, looking through the window, waiting for Fennel.

  The minutes dragged by. Both of them were keyed up as they sat, waiting. After what seemed an age, Garry put his hand on Gaye’s arm.

  “He’s here.” He got to his feet and went to the window.

  Fennel came out of the darkness and paused at the window and nodded. He lowered his tool kit to the ground and came to the terrace doors. With the aid of a pencil flash light, he examined the lock. Looking at Garry, he jerked up his thumb, then reached for his tool kit.

  In a few minutes, the terrace doors swung open. Picking up his tool kit, Fennel moved into the lounge. He ignored Gaye as if she wasn’t in the room. Turning to Garry, he said, “Been doing yourself well, huh?” He looked around the room. “Ken and I certainly caught the crappy end of this stick, didn’t we?”

  “Tough,” Garry said, smiling. “Never mind. You’ll recover.”

  Fennel gave him an evil look, then turned away. Seeing the mood he was in, Gaye watched him, but didn’t speak.

  “Where’s the lift?” Fennel asked. “This job could take me three or four hours.”

  Garry turned to Gaye.

  “You’d better stay here if it’s going to take that long.” She nodded.

  “All right.”

  “How about the TV snoopers?” Fennel asked.

  “They’re there in the museum, but I’ve no idea where the monitor-room is or if anyone keeps watch at night.”

  Fennel flushed with rage.

  “Your job was to find out!” he snarled.

  Garry went to the door, opened it and beckoned to Fennel.

  “Take a look… there are about thirty-five doors down that corridor. It could be behind any one of them. We can’t walk in and check. Did you see any Zulus as you came through the garden?”

  “No. What’s that to do with it?”

  “The chances are if they aren’t patrolling the grounds, they don’t keep watch at night on the TV monitor.”

  “If they do, we’re sunk.”

  “There it is. Have you any ideas how we can check?”

  Fennel thought, then shrugged.

  “It could be anywhere… could be in one of the huts away from the house.” He hesitated. “It’s taking a hell of a chance.”

  “We either take the chance or we leave without the ring.”

  “Will you take the chance?” Fennel demanded.

  “Sure, if you will.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  They moved silently into the corridor, leaving Gaye still sitting on the bed. A few minutes later, they were descending in the lift. When they reached the vaulted chamber, Garry pointed to the TV lens in the ceiling.

  “There it is.”

  Fennel moved under the lens and peered at it. Then he sucked in a deep breath.

  “It’s not operating.”

  “Sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  Garry wiped his sweating hands on the seats of his shorts.

  “There’s the door to the museum. Do you want me to do anything?”

  Fennel went to the door and examined the dial and the lock.

  “No… just leave it to me. It’s going to take time, but I can get it open.” He opened his tool kit and laid out a selection of tools on the floor. Garry went over to a high-backed leather chair and sat down. He lit a cigarette and tried to contain his impatience.

  Fennel worked carefully, whistling softly under his breath. His body concealed what he was doing, and after a while, Garry got bored watching his broad back, and getting up, he began to pace up and down. He smoked one cigarette after another and continually looked at his
watch. After an hour had dragged by, he paused in his pacing to ask. “How’s it coming?”

  “I’ve neutralized the time switch,” Fennel said, sitting back on his heels and wiping his forehead with his arm. “That’s the worst part of the job behind us. Now, I’ve got to tackle the lock itself.”

  Garry sat down and waited.

  Another hour dragged by, then Fennel gave a little grunt.

  “I’ve done it!” he exclaimed.

  Garry joined him at the door.

  “Quicker than you thought.”

  “Just luck. I’ve been five hours on one of these goddamn locks before now.” He stood up and pulled the door open. “Do you know where the ring is?”

  “I’ll take you to it.”

  Fennel hastily repacked his tool bag and together the two men moved into the picture gallery. Going ahead, Garry entered the second room and made for the lighted alcove. Then he paused, experiencing a sense of shock. The pedestal was there, but the glass box and the ring were missing.

  “What is it?” Fennel demanded.

  “It’s gone!” Garry licked his dry lips. “That’s where it was… it’s gone! I thought…”

  He stopped short as he saw Fennel, his face twitching, was staring at the wide archway from which they had come into this room from the picture gallery.

  Standing in the archway, wearing only leopard skins, were four giant Zulus, each holding a broad-bladed stabbing spear, their cruel, fierce black eyes fixed on the two startled men.

  One of them said in guttural English. “You come with us.”

  “What they call a fair cop,” Garry said and moved towards the Zulus.

  Fennel hesitated, but he knew they hadn’t a chance against these four giants. Cursing softly, he picked up his tool bag and moved after Garry.

  As the minutes crawled by, Gaye became more and more uneasy and restless. She prowled around the luxurious lounge wondering how Fennel was getting on. It was now nearly two hours since they had left the lounge. She kept telling herself Fennel had said it might be a four hour job. She wished now she had gone with them. This long wait was getting on her nerves.

 

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