‘Bethany! In here!’ she said.
There was a narrow door beneath a plain balcony and she tapped and entered, with Jack following, his heart thundering as loudly as the pain in his head. The flicker of the single candle in its brass holder only highlighted the dim interior of the house. Half a dozen women sat inside, all giggling as they looked at him, but Bethany was not among them.
‘Where’s Bethany?’ he asked, agitated.
The outside door was firmly closed and the original dark-haired woman stood with her back to an inner glazed door. Only then did Jack realise that she wore only a very low red skirt and a gauze-like top that enhanced rather than concealed her breasts.
‘No, no, you don’t understand. I am looking for Bethany, for my wife.’
‘Bethany Tarver,’ the dark-haired woman repeated, and unfastened her top.
‘Yes, Bethany Tarver.’ Jack did not even bother to look away. He was neither attracted nor offended by the sight of her bare breasts; they did not matter. Taking hold of her upper arms, Jack held her firmly. ‘I am not interested in you, madam. Please understand, I am looking for my wife.’
‘Bethany Tarver,’ the woman repeated and smiled again. She nodded to the far wall, where a door crouched under a huge foxed mirror. ‘Through there. Follow me.’ She inclined her head backwards and Jack released her.
The woman swayed past her companions, who watched with blank expressions, and pushed open the door. ‘Bethany Tarver?’
‘Yes. Has there been an accident? Is she hurt?’ Although Jack guessed he was in some kind of bordello and he would have been more sensible to leave, he could not neglect any chance of finding Bethany. Taking a deep breath of the heady perfume and ignoring the stifled laughter of the women, he plunged through the door.
‘Bethany? Are you in there?’
A single guttering lamp lit the courtyard at the end of the dark passageway. His guide turned to him, pointing to another door of heavy red wood. ‘Bethany Tarver. In there.’
‘Bethany!’ Jack yelled her name and thrust through, stumbling as the woman helped him with an unexpected push. He fell on his face, staggered up and stopped short as somebody thrust a slender knife against his throat.
‘Jack Tarver, we thought you would come searching for your wife.’
‘Bethany?’ Jack shouted, blinking, as he looked around a crowded room. Bethany was there, tied to a chair, with her mouth gagged. Her eyes were wide and angry. Mr Egerton stood at her side, while the helpful Maltese woman held the knife.
Chapter Nine
Inside Manderaggio
‘We had to gag her, you see, because she made a terrible din,’ Mr Egerton explained. ‘Quite the most vocal woman I have ever met, I fear.’
‘Bethany …’ Jack stepped forward, but the woman pressed the blade of her knife further under his chin.
‘Bethany Tarver, you see, just as I promised,’ the woman said, looking up, smiling. Her English had improved markedly, although she spoke with a noticeable accent that had nothing to do with Malta. Swiftly covering her upper body with a shawl, she tossed back her hair with a flick of her head.
‘Sit down, Mr Tarver, if you please,’ Mr Egerton suggested, jerking his head towards a hard seat with a curved back.
‘What in God’s name is this all about?’
‘Sit down, Mr Tarver, and don’t play the innocent with me.’ Mr Egerton no longer looked bemused and incapable. His lanky figure appeared more like a predatory spider and his hands were very deft as he removed Jack’s telescope and tied him to a chair using expert knots. His eyes were as hard as anything Jack had seen.
‘Now, Mr Tarver, or may I call you Jack?’
‘Mr Tarver will be better,’ Jack said. He looked across to Bethany. Save for her bonds, she looked none the worse. ‘Bethany …’
‘Your wife is quite all right, Mr Tarver, I assure you.’ Mr Egerton gave a bleak smile. ‘But she might want to know what you were doing poking around the Manderaggio as soon as her back was turned.’ He shook his head sorrowfully. ‘Mr Tarver, I am astonished at you! Following half-naked women into places without a tinge of respectability.’
‘If you hurt her …’ Jack began, but Mr Egerton shook his head.
‘I promise you, Mr Tarver, that nobody will be harmed so long as I get the key.’
The woman glanced at Jack, moved closer and whipped back his cloak. Smiling, she removed the pistols from his waistband. ‘Thank you, Mr Tarver,’ she said softly. ‘But do you have anything else hidden from me?’ She glanced over to Bethany. ‘You don’t mind if I search your husband, do you, Mrs Tarver?’ Her laugh was cut short by a noise from outside and she held up a hand. ‘Listen,’ she said. ‘The soldiers are looking again.’
There was the sound of tramping boots, somebody banging at their front door and a loud shout. ‘Mrs Tarver! Jack Tarver!’
‘Damn them. Your friends are persistent,’ Mr Egerton said quietly. ‘All right, so we shall continue this conversation elsewhere.’ He pointed to Jack. ‘You first, and if you make any sort of trouble I swear that Elizabeth here will chop your clacking wife to pieces. Show him, Elizabeth.’
Flourishing her knife, the woman stepped towards Bethany and pretended to slash her across the face. Bethany flinched but said nothing as the blade passed within half an inch of her nose.
‘You understand?’
‘I understand,’ Jack agreed. Seeing Bethany like that had taken all the fight from him. When his legs were untied, he meekly followed after Mr Egerton, glancing backwards to make sure that Bethany was safe.
She nodded, trying to convey a message with her eyes alone.
‘Come on!’ Mr Egerton ordered, and Elizabeth shoved him so he stumbled back through the courtyard and into another door. Something scurried around his feet and he kicked out, but Elizabeth grunted and pushed him again.
‘Keep moving, Jack Tarver,’ she ordered.
‘Where are we going?’
There was another door in that mediaeval labyrinth, a short corridor and the relief of fresh air, as they emerged at the side of the Quarantine Harbour, the ships’ lights close and achingly familiar. He wondered if he should yell for help, but the thought of Bethany, tied and vulnerable, stilled his voice and he stumbled on.
‘Down there!’ Mr Egerton pointed to a handy two-masted boat that was moored beside the quay, its rigging singing softly in the breeze and a long bowsprit gently rocking.
‘Where are you taking me?’
‘Out to sea,’ Mr Egerton told him. ‘Where there are no witnesses and no interruptions. If you don’t produce the key, then it’s overboard for you and a long swim back.’ His smile revealed large teeth. ‘We’ll keep Bethany a little longer.’
‘You release her or you’ll never get anything from me!’ Jack roared, turning against Elizabeth, but Mr Egerton drove a hard fist into his kidneys. Flaring agony forced him to his knees, then Elizabeth kicked him hard in the stomach.
‘If we get nothing from you,’ Mr Egerton said quietly, ‘then I’ll release Elizabeth on Bethany.’
Jack glared his hatred, but he knew he would reveal everything to save Bethany.
‘You could tell us now,’ Mr Egerton suggested, ‘and spare us a lot of trouble.’
‘On the boat,’ Elizabeth spoke softly. ‘There are too many people here, and the soldiers could come back.’
It was a short drop from the quay to the deck, and Jack felt himself pushed down into a tiny space, stinking of damp and tar.
‘The cable locker,’ Mr Egerton explained. ‘You’ll be safe here.’
‘And Bethany? Where is my wife?’ Jack tried to twist around, but Elizabeth was there, pushing him.
‘She’ll be safe as long as you do as you’re told.’
‘I’ve no idea what you want,’ Jack began, but Mr Egerton only stared at him and banged shut the door.
‘Don’t you hurt her!’ Jack roared. He struggled with his bonds, trying to reach around with his fingertips, but achieving no
thing. He cursed, hating himself for leaving Bethany alone in a strange place. He swore, as thoughts jumbled around his head, each one more alarming than the last.
What was this all about? He had come to Malta to build a road, a simple engineering project that would take a few months and earn him some money, and now he had become embroiled with the Knights of St John and treasure and international politics, to say nothing of Mr Egerton’s folly. Just where did that strange man fit in? Was he working for the Knights, or was he an agent of Dover’s? Jack leaned back his head and groaned. Either was possible, and neither gave him any comfort.
Jack could feel the vessel rocking quite wildly now, so it must have been well clear of the Grand Harbour and out at sea. He could hear the slap of waves on the hull, and the creak and groan of the wood all around him. He sighed again, wondering how some people lived quiet, ordinary lives, while he seemed to lurch from crisis to crisis, with some new adventure ready to disturb his equanimity. Yet he was not an adventurous man; he just wanted to live with Bethany in their own house in Hereford, working hard and earning enough money to keep poverty at bay.
‘In here!’ The door thumped open and somebody stood over him, the figure a silhouette against the harsh light of a lantern.
Hard hands hauled him up and sliced through his bonds, as somebody knelt beside him. ‘Good evening, Mr Tarver. I seem to be making a habit of rescuing you!’
Squinting against the light, Jack looked once more into the sardonic face of John Dover.
Chapter Ten
A Common Spy
Sitting in the front room of Dover’s apartment in Valletta, with the decanter of wine between them and half a dozen candles throwing flickering shadows against the panelled walls, Jack and Dover looked at each other through steely eyes. Beyond the windows of the veranda, only the footsteps of the occasional passer-by broke the quiet of the street.
‘You are a hard man to pin down, Mr Tarver,’ Dover said, leaning back in his leather armchair, watching Jack over the rim of his glass. ‘I’ve had a man following you for days now, partly to make sure that Adam Kaskrin did not attack you again and partly to see if you had the key.’
Jack nodded. ‘Once again, Mr Dover, I am glad for your presence. Damn you!’ Jack glanced at Bethany, who sat on the far side of the table with troubled eyes.
‘I am damned with faint praise, then,’ Dover said, smiling. ‘But you should be glad, Mr Tarver, and thankful. That’s twice now I have saved your life, and once the life of your wife, for they would have killed her.’ Dover lifted his glass and sipped slowly. ‘I think that you are in my debt, now.’
‘If you had not first put us in danger with your little spying games, Mr Dover, there would have been no need to rescue us.’ Bethany was shaken from her ordeal and obviously in no mood to go easy on Dover. When she spoke, Jack could detect fear in her voice. ‘Now, pray, could you tell us what happened? One moment I was looking at books in a bookshop, then that woman called me over.’
Jack listened as Bethany continued. The woman, Elizabeth, had known Bethany’s name. She had told her about some real book bargains she had, then had bundled her down a side street, where Mr Egerton had been waiting. Bethany looked to Jack. ‘I’ve never been in such a place before.’
‘Nor have I,’ Jack added, sensing an accusation in her voice.
‘I should think not, indeed!’ Bethany tried to smile, but she could not control the tremble of her lips. Jack held her for a moment, until she struggled free, determined to complete her story.
‘That was a terrible building, Jack, and Mr Egerton was there. I never did like that man, but I did not think he was quite such a blackguard! He asked me questions and then I shouted back at him …’
‘What sort of questions?’ Dover asked, interrupting her.
‘What we had found, and where we had put it, and who we had told and where you were.’ Bethany shook her head again. ‘Of course, as we have found nothing, I told them exactly what I thought of them and their questions, and then they stuffed a filthy rag in my mouth.’ She looked away. ‘I heard people shouting my name, but I couldn’t do anything.’ She looked at Jack. ‘I couldn’t even warn you when you came in.’
Dover nodded. ‘I must apologise to you, Mrs Tarver. I was so concerned about Mr Tarver that I quite neglected you. I should have sent a man to watch you, too. It was most remiss of me.’ For a moment, he sounded genuine.
‘There is no need to apologise,’ Bethany relented, as she recovered her composure. ‘For I was very glad to see you, Mr Dover, and you saved us both.’ She curtseyed from her seat. ‘I cannot thank you enough and I apologise for my earlier words.’
Dover’s smile showed Jack that the agent could be a charming man when he chose. ‘Well met, Mrs Tarver. It took some bottom to say that.’ He leaned back, obviously enjoying himself. ‘My man saw Mr Tarver follow Elizabeth Baranov into that, eh, house of ill repute and contacted me, and after that everything was easy. I just whistled up a few military and kicked in the door.’ He shrugged. ‘By then, unfortunately, Mr Tarver had been taken to the boat and it required a second rescue to reunite you once more.’
‘And Mr Egerton? Did you catch him?’ Bethany asked.
‘Alas no,’ Dover shook his head. ‘I was far too busy releasing your husband to pursue my proper occupation. Mr Egerton – and Elizabeth Baranov – both escaped.’
‘He was also asking about the keys,’ Bethany said. ‘What are these keys, Mr Dover, and do you know what his interest in the treasure might be?’
Dover sipped more of the red wine. ‘Who would not be interested in treasure?’ His smile was remarkably pleasant. ‘But the presence of Elizabeth Baranov points us in another direction, and one much more serious than mere personal gain, I fear. She is a colleague of Adam Kaskrin and therefore so must be Mr Egerton.’
‘I knew there was something smoky about that man!’ Bethany looked at Jack with something like triumph. ‘Did I not say so, Jacko?’
‘You did.’ Jack did not remind her that she had thought everything smoky since she had arrived in Malta.
‘I believe these are yours, Mr Tarver?’ Dover pushed his pistols across the polished table. He smiled again. ‘I would advise that you use the pistols next time rather than merely carrying them.’
‘Thank you for your advice,’ Jack said dryly, as Dover lifted and examined the telescope, bought by Bethany earlier that day.
‘A birthday gift, I see. Happy birthday, Mr Tarver.’
‘Thank you again,’ Jack said. He had nearly forgotten that he was twenty-nine that day.
There were a few moments’ silence, then Dover grinned. ‘You two are blundering about like two clumpertons, falling in and out of trouble without any idea what is happening, aren’t you?’
Jack glanced at Bethany and nodded. The words were too true to be denied.
‘Well, then, would you not rather be in control of the situation?’ Dover asked Bethany the question, rather than Jack.
‘Of course,’ Bethany said.
‘Well, then, listen to me.’ Dover recharged his glass, and that of Bethany. Jack had hardly sipped at his wine. ‘You know that there are two keys. I believe that you have found one, although you deny it emphatically. I know who has the second, but he will be difficult to locate. Perhaps if you helped me find this second person, we could combine our skills and solve this mystery. We might even help Britain win this damned war, or at least not continue to lose it so badly.’
‘I have a road to build,’ Jack said, ‘and I swear that we have not set eyes on any key.’
‘So you have and so you say,’ Dover said dryly. ‘But you know now that Mr Kaskrin and Mr Egerton, to say nothing of Elizabeth Baranov, will never allow you to continue in peace. I cannot afford to spend the time dragging you out of trouble every day, Mr Tarver, and I suspect that you will be unable to concentrate on your road, wondering if every stranger is about to attack you.’ He glanced across to Bethany. ‘Also, knowing you as I do, you will s
urely also be wondering if anybody is attacking Mrs Tarver.’
Again Jack glanced at Bethany, who gave a small smile. Dover’s words were so true that they could not be denied. ‘Maybe you have a point, Mr Dover.’
‘There is no doubt that you have a point, Mr Dover.’ Bethany allowed. She sighed. ‘Pray continue.’
‘You do realise that everything I say must be treated in the strictest of confidence,’ Dover said sternly. He seemed to be enjoying the situation.
‘Of course,’ Jack agreed.
Bethany did not reply.
‘Then I will add to your education, Mr and Mrs Tarver.’ Dover swallowed more wine before he continued. ‘You know that Bonaparte took this island from the Knights and then proceeded to rob the place from Monday to Christmas. And you know that some of the Knights forestalled the ogre by hiding what they could.’
‘We do,’ Jack agreed, surprised that Bethany was allowing him to take the initiative.
‘The Knights were disturbed soon afterwards and had to scatter. That was why the keys were separated. Adam Kaskrin was one of the Knights and he hid his key. I believe he secreted it away in his own house of Ta Rena.’ He glanced at Bethany. ‘I suspect you know more about that than I do.’
‘I have not found any key,’ Bethany told him.
‘So you say.’ Dover looked grim. ‘The second Knight was also a Russian Pole, known to me as Sobczak, and he escaped by sea. I surmise that he hid the key somewhere near the coast.’ Dover held Jack’s eyes as he leaned back. ‘So Mr Tarver, have you anything to add?’
‘What happened to this other Polish fellow, Sobczak?’ Bethany asked before Jack could speak. ‘The whole thing appears to hinge on him. Unless you can find him, it seems that the treasure will never be recovered.’ She glanced at Jack, ‘At least not by key.’
Tarver's Treasure Page 13