The Light of Day (17 page)

'It was interesting.'

‘The Treasury is worth seeing, too. Everything the Sultans used was covered with jewels. Of course, a great many of the things were gifts from kings and emperors who wanted to impress the Sultans with their greatness. Even Queen Victoria sent things.'

'I know.' She chuckled. 'Clocks and cut glass.’

'But some of the things are really incredible, Miss Lipp. There are coffee cups sculptured out of solid amethyst, and, you know, the largest emerald in the world is there on the canopy of one of the thrones. They even did mosaic work with rubies and emeralds instead of marble.’ I went on to tell her about the gem-encrusted baldrics. I gave her the full treatment. In my experience every normal woman likes talking about jewels. But she didn't seem much interested.

Well,' she said, they can't be worth much.'

'All those hundreds and thousands of jewels, Miss Lipp! ' My leg was getting stiff trying to stop the panel vibrating.

I wriggled surreptitiously into a new position.

She shrugged. The guide
told
me that the reason they have to close some rooms on the days they
open
up
the
others is because they're understaffed. The reason they're understaffed is because the government hasn't the money to spend. That's why the place is so shabby, too. Pretty well all of the money they have for restoration goes into the older, the Byzantine buildings. Besides, if all those stones were real gems they'd be in a strong-room, not a museum. You know, Arthur, quite a lot of these old baubles turn out in the end to be just obsidian and garnet.'

'Oh these are real gems, Miss Lipp.'

‘What's the biggest emerald in the world look like, Arthur?’

‘Well it's pear-shaped, and about the size of a pear, too.'

'Smooth or cut?'

'Smooth.’

‘Couldn't it be green tourmaline?'

Well, I suppose I
dont
know really, Miss Lipp. I'm not an expert.'

'Do you care
which
it is?"

I was getting bored with this. 'Not much. Miss Lipp,' I answered. ‘It just makes a more interesting story if it's an emerald.'

She smiled. 'It makes a more amusing story if it's not. Have you ever been to the mysterious East?'

'No, Miss Lipp.’

'But you've seen pictures. Do you know what makes those tall pagodas glitter so beautifully in the moonlight?'

'No, Miss Lipp.'

‘They're covered with little pieces of broken bottle glass. And the famous emerald Buddha in Bangkok isn't emerald at all; it's carved from a block of ordinary green jasper.'

‘Little known facts,' I thought ‘Why don't you send it
m
to the
Reader's Digest?'
 
I
didn’t say it, though.

She took a cigarette from the gold case in her bag and I fumbled in my pocket for matches; but she had a gold lighter, too, and didn't notice the matches I held out to her.
‘Have
you always done this sort of work?’ she asked suddenly.

'Driving? No, Miss Lipp. Most of my life I have been a journalist. That was in Egypt When the Nasser crowd took over, things became impossible. It was a matter of starting again.' Simple, straightforward—a man who has suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune but wasn't looking for anyone's shoulder to weep on.

'I was thinking about the traveller's cheques,' she said. 'Is that what you meant by "starting again"?'

'I'm sorry Mr Harper had to tell you about that.' It was no surprise, of course, that Harper had told her; but with so many other things on my mind—driving, keeping the door panel from rattling, cramp in my leg and wondering how the hell I was going to replace the screws—all I could think of was that obvious reply. 'Did you think he wouldn't tell me?' she went on.

'I didn't think about it either way, Miss Lipp.'

'But since he did tell me and since you're driving this car, that must mean that I don't mind too much about things like that, mustn't it?’

For one idiotic moment I wondered if she were making some sort of pass at me; but it was a brief moment.

'I suppose so,' I answered.

'And that Mr Harper doesn't mind either?'

'Yes.'

'And that, in fact, we're all very sensible, tolerant persons?'

I couldn't help glancing at her. She was watching me in her amused, considering way, but there was nothing sleepy about her eyes now. They were steadily intent.

And then I got the message. I was being sounded, either to discover what I had made of the set-up and if they had left any shirt-tails showing, or to find out if I could be trusted in some particular way. I knew that how I answered would be very important indeed to me; but JI didn't know what to say. It was no use pretending to be stupid any more, or trying to avoid the issue. A test was being applied. If I failed it, I was out—out with Harper, out with
Tufan
and his Director, out with the Turkish customs and, in all probability, out with the Greek police as well. I felt my face getting red and knew that she would notice.

That decided me. People get red when they feet gouty or nervous; but they also get red when they are angry. In order not to seem nervous or guilty, all I could do was to seem angry.

‘Including Mr Fischer?’ I asked.

‘What about Mr Fischer?'

'Is he sensible, too, Miss Lipp?'

'Does that matter?'

I glanced at her again. 'If my personal safety—safety from some sort of bad luck, let us say—depended on Fischer's being sensible, I'd be quite worried.'

'Because he upset a drink over you?'

'Ah, he told you that, did he? No, that was only stupid. I'd be worried because he was careless, because he gave himself away.'

'Only himself.’ There was quite an edge to her voice now. I knew that I had gone far enough.

‘What else is there to give away, Miss Lipp?'
 
I
am wary but not treacherous, Miss Lipp. I watch my own interests, Miss Lipp, but I
 
know how to be discreet, too, no matter how phony the set-up looks.

‘What indeed?' she said shortly.

She said no more. The test was over. I did not know whether I had passed or not; but there was nothing more that I could do, and I was glad of the relief. I hoped she would not notice that I was sweating.

We arrived at the airport ten minutes before the plane was due. She got out and went into the arrivals section, leaving me to find a place to park. I quickly did the two loose screws up before I went to join her.

She was
at the Air France counter.

'Fifteen minutes to wait,' she said.

'And at least another fifteen before they get through customs,' I reminded her. 'Miss Lipp, you have had no lunch. The
café
here is quite clean. Why not wait there and have some cakes and tea? I will keep a check on the plane and arrange for a porter to be ready. When the passengers are in customs I will let you know.’

She
hesitated, then, to my relief, nodded. 'All right, you do that.’

'May I ask who it is that we are meeting?'

‘Mr Miller.'

'I will take care of everything.'

I showed her where the
café
was, hung around long enough to make sure that she was going to stay there, and then hurried back to the car.

I was sweating so much by this time that my fingers kept slipping on the screwdriver. In fact, I did what I had been trying hard to avoid doing and scratched the leather; but it couldn't be helped. I rubbed some spit on the place and hoped for the best The Opel was parked about a dozen yards away and I could see the men in it watching me. They probably thought I'd gone mad.

When the last screw was in place, I put the screwdriver back in my bag and went inside again to the Air France counter. The plane was just landing. I found a porter, gave him five
lira
and told him about Mr Miller. Then I went to the men's room and tried to stop myself sweating by running cold water over my wrists. It helped a little. I cleaned myself up and went back to the
café.

‘The passengers are beginning to come through now, Miss Lipp.'

She picked up her bag. ‘Take care of the check, will you, Arthur?'

It took me a minute or two to get the waiter's attention, so I missed the" meeting between Miss Lipp and Mr Miller. They were already on their way out to the car when I saw them. The porter was carrying two pieces of luggage, one suitcase and one smaller bag. I went ahead and got the luggage compartment open.

Mr Miller was about sixty with a long neck and nose, lined grey cheeks and a bald head with brown blotches on the skin. The backs of his hands had blotches, too. He was very thin and his light tussore suit flapped as he walked as if it had been made for someone with more flesh to cover. He had rimless glasses, pale lips, a toothy smile and that fixed stare ahead which says: 'You'll have to get out of my way, I'm afraid, because I haven't the time to get out of yours.'

As they came up to the car Miss Lipp said:
 
This is
Arthur Simpson
who's driving for us,
te».’

Before I could even say
'good afternoon’ be had handed me the raincoat he had been carrying over his arm. 'Good, good,' he said and climbed into the back seat She smiled slightly as she got in after him, though not at me, to herself.

The coat smelt of lavender water. I put it with the luggage, tipped the porter again and got
into
the driving seat.

To the villa, Miss Lipp?'

'Yes, Arthur.’

‘Wait a minute.' It was Miller. ‘Where is my coat?'

'With your luggage, sir.'

'It will get dirty in there. It should be on a seat in here.'

‘Yes, sir.'

I got out again and retrieved the coat.

‘What a fuss you make, Leo,’ I heard her say. ‘The car's quite clean.'

‘The baggage in there is not clean. It has been in the belly of a plane with other baggage. It has been on the floor and table of the customs place. It has been handled by the man who searched it, handled again by the porter. Nothing is clean.' His accent had no American inflections, and he couldn't pronounce his 'th's’. I thought he might be French.

I draped the coat over the back of the seat in front of him. ‘Will that be all right, sir?'

'Yes, of course,' he said impatiently.

That type is always the same.
They
make the difficulties and then behave as if
you're
the one who's being the nuisance.

‘Let's go, Arthur,' said Miss Lipp. Her tone was noncommittal. I couldn't tell whether she found him tiresome or not I watched them in the driving mirror.

As soon as we were clear of the airport, he settled back and looked her over in a fatherly way.

‘Well, my dear, you're looking healthy. How are
Karl
and
Giulio?'

'Karl's fine.
Giulio
we haven't seen yet. He's with the boat. Karl was thinking of going over there tomorrow.’

"Have you anything planned for them?’

‘We thought you might like to do a little sight-seeing. That is unless you're tired.'

‘You are more considerate than a daughter, my dear.' The teeth leered at her and the pale eyes behind the rimless glasses nickered towards my back.

I had already realized that this was a conversation conducted solely for my benefit, but now I saw her face stiffen. She knew that I was listening hard and was afraid that he was overdoing it.

'You must persuade Arthur to show you around the Seraglio Palace,' she said. 'He is quite an authority on it. Isn't that right, Arthur?'

That was as good as telling me that the old fool would believe any cock-and-bull story I cared to tell him. On the other hand it must be telling him something, too; perhaps warning him that the driver wasn't such a fool as he looked. I had to be careful.

'I would be happy to show Mr Miller what there is to see,' I said.

'Well, we must certainly think about that,'’ he replied; 'certainly, we must think about it'

He glanced at her to see if he had said the right thing. A sentence of my father's came into my mind: 'One moment they're all full of piss and wind and the next moment...' At that point he would make a raspberry sound with his tongue. Vulgar, of course, but there was never any doubt about the kind of man he meant.

Mr Miller kept quiet after that. Once or twice she pointed out places of interest, in the manner of a hostess with a newly arrived guest; but the only thing he asked about was the tap water at the villa. Was it safe to drink or was there bottled water available? There was bottled water, she told him. He nodded, as if that had confirmed his worst fears, and said that he had brought plenty of
Entero
Vioforme for intestinal prophylaxis.