The Light of Day (26 page)

'You said there was a steel shutter?'

‘You could open it with a toothpick. The wall's four feet thick and solid stone. I guess it'd stand up to a six-inch shell But the shutters over the window apertures are just quarter-inch plate with ordinary draw bolts on them. They don't even fit properly. And no alarm system.'

'But if this jewellery is so valuable . . .'

‘Have you ever looked through one of those window apertures, Arthur? There's a sheer drop of three hundred feet below. It's quite impossible to get up or down there. That's why we're going in from above. The trick is getting out again. What their security set-up relies on is the fact that the whole area is walled like a fortress. There are gates, of course, and the gates have troops guarding them at night; but gates can be opened if you know how. That'll all be taken care of. You'll walk out of there just as easily as you walked in.' His eyes found mine and held them. ‘You see, Arthur, we're professionals.'

I forced myself to look away. I looked at Miss Lipp; but her eyes had the same intent look as his. ‘I'm sorry,' I said; 'I'm not a professional.'

'You
don't have to be,’ she said.

'I can't do it, Mr Harper.'

'Why aot?'

'Because I'd be too afraid.'

He smiled. That's the best thing I’ve heard you say, Arthur. You had me quite worried for a moment'

'I mean it.'

'Sure you do. Who wouldn't be scared?
I’m
scared. In a few hours' time I'll be even more scared. That's good. If you aren't a bit scared you don't stay on your toes.'

'I'm not talking about being a bit scared, Mr Harper. I'm talking about being
too
scared. I'd be no use to you.' And I meant it. I was thinking of myself on top of that roof with a three-hundred-foot drop down to the road. I can't stand heights.

There was a silence, and then she laughed. 'I don't believe you, Arthur,' she said. 'You? You with two good arms and hands to hold on with, scared of going where Hans Fischer isn't afraid to go with only
half
a hand? It doesn't make sense.'

‘I’m sorry,' I said again.

There was another silence and then he glanced at her and moved his head slightly. She walked out on to the terrace.

‘Let's get a couple of things straight, Arthur,' he said. 'All I'm asking you to do is take a little ride and then a little walk, and then handle a rope for twenty minutes. You'll be in no danger. Nobody's going to take pot-shots at you. And when it's done you get two thousand bucks. Right?'

‘Yes, but...'

'Let me finish. Now, supposing you chicken out, what do we do?'

'Get someone else, I suppose.'

‘Yes, but what do we do about you?' He paused. 'You see, Arthur, it's not just a question of getting the job done. You know too much now not to be a part of it. If you're going to be on the outside, well, well have to protect ourselves another way. You follow me?'

He could see that I did. I had a choice: I could either frighten myself to death on the roof of the Seraglio, or take a shorter, quicker route to the police mortuary.

'Now go get yourself another drink and stop worrying,' he said; 'just think of the two thousand bucks.'

I shrugged. 'All right I'm merely telling you how I feel, that's all.'

"You'll be okay, Arthur.' He led the way back on to the terrace.

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him how okay Mr Miller would be if the height got me down and I passed out while I was handling the tackle; but I thought better of it. If he realized that I really wasn't just being timid, that I really couldn't stand heights, he might decide that I was too dangerous a liability in every way. Besides, I was coming to my senses again now. Tufan's 'politicals' had turned out to be big-time crooks after all. I had been right all along, and he had been hopelessly wrong; but he was still a powerful ally, and I still had a good chance of being able to stop the whole thing. All I had to do was add just three words—
raiding Seraglio treasury
—to the note in the cigarette packet and drop it for the surveillance people. After that, my worries would be over, and Harper's would begin. I had a pleasing vision of the lot of them, rounded up and in handcuffs, watching
Tufan
hand me a brand-new British passport

'What are you grinning at, Arthur?' Harper asked.

I was pouring myself the second drink he had prescribed. 'You told me to think of the two thousand dollars, Mr Harper,' I answered. 'I was just carrying out orders.'

'You're a screwball, Arthur,' he said amiably; but I saw a reflective look in his eyes and decided that I had better watch myself. All the same, I couldn't help wondering what he would have said and done if he had been warned, at that moment, that the customs people in
Edirne
had looked inside the doors of the car, and that every move he had made since had been made with the knowledge and by permission of the security police—if, in other words, he had been told how vulnerable he was. Not that I had the slightest desire to warn him; I hadn't forgotten the caning he had given me in Athens; but if it had been safe to do so, I would have liked to have told him that it was my lousy
out-of-date Egyptian passport that had done the job. I would have liked to have seen the bastard's face. I still would.

Hamul shuffled out and made signs to Miss
Lipp
that lunch was served. She
glanced at me. 'Bring your drink in with you, Arthur.'

Presumably I was being promoted to eating with the gentry so that they could keep an eye on me.

Miller was a gloomy feeder, and made the omelette less appetizing than it could have been by talking about infectious diseases all the time. How did they grow virus cultures in laboratories? Why, in eggs, of course! He discussed the possible consequences at length. The others took no notice; evidently they were used to him; but it got me down. I hadn't felt much like eating anyway.

When the fruit came Harper looked across at me. 'As soon as the Hamuls have cleared away,' he said, 'you had better start getting the bags down They think we're going to Ankara for a couple of days, .so it doesn't matter if they see us. The important thing is that we leave ourselves time to clean up the rooms.'

‘Clean them up?'

'For fingerprints. With any luck well never be connected with this place. The rent was paid in advance and the owner couldn't care less if we don't show up again. The Hamuls will dust off most of it automatically. They're great polishers, I've noticed. But things they could miss, like window handles and closet mirrors, we should take care of ourselves—just in case.'

By two o'clock I had all the bags down and asked Harper if I could go to my old room to clean up there. He nodded. 'Okay, Arthur, but don't be too long. I want you to give Mr Fischer a hand.'

I hurried upstairs. In the bathroom, I completed the cigarette packet message. Then I went through the motions of 'cleaning up'—
Tufan
already had
my
fingerprints—and returned to Fischer's room.

At a quarter to three Harper drove the car from the garage to the courtyard and I loaded the bags. There wasn't room for all of them in the luggage compartment, so some
had to go on the floor by the back seat

At three, Harper, Miller and I went up to Miller's room.
Hiere,
Miller and I took our shirts off and swathed ourselves in the tackle, Harper assisting and rearranging things until he was satisfied that nothing would show. I had the spring hooks of the sling hanging down inside my trouser-legs. It was dreadfully uncomfortable. Harper made me walk up and down so that he could see that all was in order.

‘You look as if you've wet your pants,' he complained. ‘Can't you walk more naturally?'

‘The hooks keep hitting one another.'

‘Well, wear one higher and one lower.'

After further adjustments, he was satisfied and we went downstairs to be inspected by Miss Lipp. She had fault to find with Miller—he had developed the same trouble with the blocks as I had with the hooks—and while they were putting it right I managed to transfer the cigarette packet from my hip to my shirt pocket, so that it would be easier to get at when the time came.

Fischer was getting edgy now. The bandages prevented his wearing a wrist-watch and he kept looking at Miller's. Miller suddenly got irritated.

‘You cannot help, so do not get in the way,' he snapped.

'It is time we were leaving. After four-thirty, they count the people going in.'

‘I’ll tell you when it's time to leave,' Harper said. 'If you can't keep still, Hans, go sit in the car.'

Fischer sulked, while Miller returned to his bedroom for final adjustments. Harper turned to me.

‘You're looking warm, Arthur. Better you don't drive with all that junk under your shirt. You'll only get warmer. Besides, Miss Lipp knows the way. You ride in the back.'

‘Very well.' I had hoped that I might be able to drop the packet while I was making a hand signal; but I knew it was no use arguing with him.

At three-thirty we all went out and got into the car. Miller, of course, was first in the back. Harper motioned me to follow, then Fischer got in after me and Harper shut the door. So I wasn't even next to a window.

Miss Lipp
drove with Harper beside her.

From where I was sitting, the driving mirror did not reflect the road behind. After a minute or two, and on the pretext of giving Fischer more room for the arm that was in the sling, I managed to make a half-turn and glance through the rear window. The Peugeot was
f
ollowing.

Miss Lipp drove steadily and very carefully, but there wasn’t much traffic and we made good time. At ten to four we were past the Dolmabahce Palace and following the tram-lines up towards Taxim Square. I had assumed that the garage Harper had spoken of would be the one near the Spanish Consulate, and within walking distance of the Divan Hotel, which I had heard about from the surveillance man It looked at that point as if the assumption were correct. Then, quite suddenly, everything seemed to go wrong.

Instead of turning right at Taxim Square, she went straight on across it and down the hill towards
Gaiata.
I was so surprised that I nearly lost my head and told her
she
was going the wrong way Just in time, I remembered that I wasn't supposed to know the way. But Miller had noticed my involuntary movement

'What is the matter?'

‘That pedestrian back there—I thought he was going to walk straight into us.’ It is a remark that foreigners driving in Istanbul make every other minute.

He snorted ‘They are peasants. They deny the existence of machinery.’

At that moment, Miss Lipp turned sharply left and we plunged down a ramp behind a service station.

It wasn't a large place underground There
 
was garage space for about twenty cars and a greasing bay with an inspection pit. Over the pit stood a Volkswagen Minibus van. In front of it stood a man in overalls with a filthy rag in his hand.

Miss Lipp pulled the Lincoln over to the left and stopped. Harper said: 'Here we are. Out!'

Miller and Harper already had their doors open, and Harper opened Fischer's side as well. As I slid out after Miller, I got the cigarette packet from my shirt pocket into
the palm of my hand.

Now Harper was climbing up into the driving seat of the van.

'Move yourselves,' he said, and pressed the starter.

The other door of the van was at the side. Miller wrenched it open and got in. As I followed, I pretended to stumble and then dropped the cigarette packet

I saw it land on the greasy concrete and climbed on in. Then, the door swung to behind me and I heard Fischer swear as it caught him on the shoulder. I leaned back to hold it open for him, so I was looking down and saw it happen. As he put out his good hand to grasp the handrail and climb in, his left foot caught the cigarette packet and swept it under the van into the pit. It wasn't intentional. He wasn't even looking down.

Miller shut the door and latched it.

'Hold tight,' Harper said and let in the clutch.

As the van lurched forward, the back of my legs hit the edge of a packing case and I sat down on it. My face was right up against the small window at the back.

We went up to the top of the ramp again, waited a moment or two for a bus to go by, and then made a left turn on down towards the
Gaiata
Bridge. Through the window, I could see the Peugeot parked opposite the garage.

It was still there when I lost sight of it. It hadn't moved. It was waiting, faithful unto death, for the Lincoln to come out

CHAPTER TEN

For
a miaute
or two I couldn't believe that it had happened, and kept looking back through the window expecting to see that the Peugeot was following after all. It wasn't Fischer was swearing and massaging his left shoulder where the door had caught him. Miller was grinning to himself as if at some private joke. As we bounced over the tram-lines on to the
Gaiata
Bridge, I gave up looking back and stared at the floor. At my feet, amid some wood shavings, there were torn pieces of an Athens newspaper.