Thieves Fall Out (11 page)

This was good to hear, thought Pete, wondering if it was true, if Said was serious. “You mean I’ll get something on top of what I’m getting now?”

“When the sale is completed, yes. But I was explaining to you the reasons why I feel you will be too clever to try to outwit us. In Egypt we have the police, as I have said, and that is very important. Outside of Egypt we are connected with an organization that I have no intention of discussing with you. Only bear in mind that no matter where you are in the world, we have agents, and should you try anything unpleasant, you will be killed.”

“I get you,” said Pete, conscious of the sweat trickling down his side under the thin sport shirt he was wearing. He had a clearer idea of Said now. The tie-up was unexpected but logical. Said was obviously a member of an international crime syndicate, or connected with one for business reasons. He was almost certain, too, that the Egyptian was in the dope business and that smuggling antiquities was only a side line with him.

“I’m glad you do, Peter, if I may call you by your first name.”

“Call me Pete.” For some reason he wanted to keep the name Peter for Anna alone.

“Pete it is, then.” Said smiled kindly. “I think we begin to understand each other.”

“How far am I to go with the necklace?”

“To Europe, I think. That’s all I can tell you for the moment. When the details have been worked out, Hélène will tell you. We will have no idea until we have accepted an offer, and that will take several days, at least. Meanwhile, you can enjoy yourself in Cairo.”

“With a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry on me? Not on your life.”

Said laughed. “You won’t be suspected.”

“I already am.” And Pete told him about his meetings with Mohammed Ali.

Said frowned. “It is not too bad, of course. The Inspector is an old friend of ours. I think it unlikely he will try to take the necklace away from you. Be on your guard, though. Keep it with you all the time, or if you hide it, hide it well.”

Then Pete asked about the one aspect of the plot that still mystified him.

“What’s the point of roping me into this? Why can’t you take the necklace yourself down to Cairo and get it out of Egypt? If you’ve taken care of the police, who are you worried about?”

The Egyptian’s face set suddenly, involuntarily, but then, in a flash, it was relaxed again as he said, “It is our way. We need a courier, someone who can take care of himself. As for danger—well, there is plenty of it, and that’s why we hired you. I can’t tell you any more.” And that was the end of that.

Said moved slowly now through the columns, Pete at his side. “The necklace has had an interesting history,” said the Egyptian as they came out into the sun again and stood before an enormous obelisk, guarded by a small granite sphinx. “The Queen’s original tomb was robbed over two thousand years ago; she was moved then to another tomb, already occupied. What jewelry was left her was inside the sarcophagus, on her body, the mummy. When the tomb was discovered, the necklace was stolen. It came into my hands quite a few years ago and I have kept it much too long.”

“Too long?”

Said nodded gravely. “There is a curse on it, you see. The man who stole it from the tomb died horribly, burned alive in his bed. The next owner sold it to me after his wife and two children were killed in an automobile accident. He sold it to me for almost nothing, less than the value of the ruby, just to be rid of it. Poor fellow, he killed himself a month later.” They were now walking down a long avenue lined with carved effigies of kings and gods. The sun was like a weight on Pete’s head.

“But nothing’s happened to you, has it?”

Said shook his head. “No, not yet. But I am superstitious, I fear, like all the rest. From the time we are children they tell us about the curse on the tombs. All of us who live here grow up knowing that evil befalls those who antagonize the old gods. It is in our bones. Lately I have been involved in some delicate affairs. I need luck. So it seemed as good a time as any to sell the necklace. I contacted Hastings and Hélène, who handle the Cairo end of our affairs, and told them to make arrangements to get the thing out of Egypt and into the hands of our American customer. You are the result.”

“Is that O.K. by you?”

Said paused in the shadow of a statue of a fat, half-naked king. “Yes, I think it’s O.K. by me,” he said slowly. “I believe we can trust you, not because you are honest—there is never any way of telling, no matter what people claim—but because you’re intelligent, and want to live.”

“You make it sound real nice,” said Pete, grinning.

“We’ll get along,” said Said. “But here’s my car. Perhaps you’d like to honor my house with a visit?”

Pete said that he would. They got into the prewar Rolls Royce parked at the end of the avenue of statuary. The native chauffeur started the car and drove west.

Said’s house was a long, white, rather unattractive building in the best Hollywood-Spanish style. It was set back in the desert, among date palms and tropical trees and flowers.

“I have an oasis to myself,” said the Egyptian as they got out of the car and went into the house. The interior was more unusual. It was crammed full with expensive antique furniture, English and French, as well as many Egyptian pieces.

Said ushered him into a cool dim room that opened onto a terrace beyond, where, surrounded by palms, a fountain flowed into a large pond, the center of the oasis.

Pete sat down in a big chair overlooking the gardens. “Man, I’m glad to be out of that sun.”

“Gin and tonic?” Pete said that that would suit him fine and Said clapped his hands. A houseboy appeared instantly and took the order. Said sat down opposite Pete. “It is peaceful here,” he said pleasantly. “A little too peaceful for most people’s taste, but I like it. And now that we have such good air service, it is possible to be in Rome or Paris in a few hours, which makes it less like being buried alive.” While he talked, Pete looked about the room. He was particularly interested in the silver-framed photographs decorating many of the tables. There was one of the King and several of women in evening clothes, very elegant-looking, but the photograph that interested him most was the one nearest his chair: a tall man wearing a uniform with a girl on his arm. From where Pete sat their faces were indistinct; but the swastika on the man’s coat sleeve was unmistakable.

Said, seeing he had noticed the picture, said, a little too quickly, “Tactless, I suppose, but then the Nazis
were
all over Egypt a few years ago and many of us did do business with them. After all, to an Egyptian there is little difference between an English and a German soldier. Both are foreign. One conquered us and the other tried to. But it’s certainly unfashionable now to say such things.”

“Who are they?”

“The man was called Erich Raedermann. He was the chief Nazi in Cairo during the war. The girl is Hélène.”

Pete looked at the photograph closely, curious to see what Hélène’s dead lover was like. He seemed quite handsome, and she looked radiant and young. “He was shot, wasn’t he?”

“In her arms. But you know the story.”

“Yes, I’ve heard it.” Their drinks were brought them.

Said apologized for drinking. “The Prophet will forgive me, I’m sure,” he said, flashing the gold tooth. “My work is a great strain.”

“I’m sure it is,” said Pete, wondering what his work really was. He had a good idea, but it was only a guess; it was also none of his business. He asked how far it was to Aswân, and when Said wanted to know why he was interested in that dreary place, Pete told him a little about Anna.

Said was interested. “You know this girl?” he asked.

“I met her yesterday.”

“She seems to have made a great impression on you.”

“She is a remarkable girl.”

“Quite pretty, too.” Said smiled tolerantly. Then, for the first time, he removed his dark glasses, and Pete saw why he had worn them. One eye was a brilliant blue, startling for one so dark; the other eye was white, filmed with cataracts, and blind. Said rubbed his eyelids thoughtfully. He was completely unselfconscious. “I was under the impression that you were interested in Hélène.”

“I suppose that’s what she would say.” Pete was a little irritated that she had discussed him, even with Said. It was, after all, a private matter, or should have been. But then Pete remembered that he had mentioned to him that the reason he wanted to get back to Cairo soon was to see her. “She’s a little too high-powered for me.”

“High-powered—what a good phrase! I see what you mean, but she is attractive, extremely so.”

“So I thought,” said Pete, taking a long swallow of the gin and tonic. “But I couldn’t make much time with her.”

“She’s a difficult woman to know,” said his host. “You will find that out for yourself, I suspect. But tell me about the German girl.”

“I don’t think there’s much to tell. At least,
I
don’t know much about her. She’s a pretty exciting number, I’ll say that.” Purposely, advised by instinct, Pete sounded casual, spoke of her as just an ordinary good-looking girl who had come his way.

“I suspect you of being a Don Juan,” said Said pleasantly.

“I take what I can get,” said Pete, almost truthfully.

“It may be that I can keep you amused in Luxor, while the German girl is upriver. I have a fairly large selection of girls in Luxor. We are more simple about these things in Egypt than the Europeans and Americans are. Of course, the women who belong to families are taboo, but there are many others who are on their own and anxious to please. If you like, we might have a little party tomorrow evening.”

Pete ducked that one vaguely. Ordinarily he would have jumped at the opportunity, but knowing Anna had somehow altered, for the time being at least, his usual desires. He wanted only her.

“Should you change your mind—” But he was not allowed to finish. A houseboy entered and whispered something in Said’s ear. The Egyptian nodded curtly; the boy disappeared. “We have a visitor,” he said. “Your friend Mohammed Ali.”

Pete was startled. “What do you think he wants?”

“I should say, in general, he wants money. What he wants in particular
this
time, I don’t know.”

They both rose as the Inspector entered. Said, beaming warmly, greeted the policeman, “What a happy surprise this is! We see too little of you here at the oasis.”

“Government duties, Said Pasha,” said the Inspector, glancing at Pete without any sign of recognition.

“I believe you know Mr. Wells, Inspector.” Pete shook hands; then all three sat down, the Inspector between Said and Pete.

Mohammed Ali accepted tea. After wiping his face with a large red handkerchief, he said, “I had forgotten, Pasha, how cool your house is.”

“Through no fault of mine, Inspector,” said their host silkily. “You are always an honored guest here.”

“Kind, too kind,” murmured the policeman, looking at Pete. “Tell me, Mr. Wells, did you finally locate Fräulein Mueller?”

“Locate her?” Pete stared at him innocently.

“Yes, I believe the manager told you she had gone to Aswân. He seemed to think you were planning to follow her.”

“The manager jumps to conclusions,” said Pete shortly.

“You would have enjoyed Aswân, Mr. Wells. Hot, of course, hotter than Luxor even, but an interesting place. It’s the old Egypt.”

“I’m seeing enough sights right now,” said Pete.

“But not sights that include Fräulein Mueller.”

Before Pete could answer, Said interrupted: “What is the political news, Inspector? I haven’t been to Cairo in some weeks and the news travels slowly.”

“Everything is quiet,” said the Inspector, shifting his gaze from Peter to his host. “The usual talk of rebellions, nothing more.”

“The King?”

“Enjoys good health.”

“I am happy to hear that, very happy,” said Said, bowing his head reverently.

“We protect his safety with our lives,” said Mohammed Ali, glancing at Pete, who did not get the significance of this remark, if any was intended.

“Is there anything I can do for you, Inspector?” asked Said. “Your word is my command.”

“Nothing, Pasha,” said the policeman with a smile. “I was driving this way and I thought it would be good to see my old friend. I had no idea I should see the young American, too. A double pleasure.”

Pete unconsciously doubled his fists in his lap. He disliked this man; they were enemies, though precisely why he could not tell. It was enough that the policeman had tried to come between him and Anna. He wondered how much the Inspector knew about last night, about where Anna had gone that morning. He made up his mind to find out as soon as possible.

They talked for a few minutes about the state of affairs in Egypt. Then Mohammed Ali rose and offered to take Pete back to Luxor. “It is nearly time for lunch at the hotel.”

Pete glanced quickly at Said, who nodded imperceptibly. “Sure, thanks for the ride.”

Said escorted them to the door. “A great honor, Inspector,” he said, bowing. “I am happy to have met you, too, Mr. Wells. I hope we’ll meet again.”

The ride back to town was not cheerful. Mohammed Ali drove and Pete sat beside him. It was not until they were almost at the hotel that he asked, “Where is she?”

“Do you mean Fräulein Mueller?”

“That’s exactly who I mean. Why’d she go to Aswân?”

“I should’ve thought she’d’ve told you, Mr. Wells—last night.”

“What do you mean?”

Mohammed Ali smiled maliciously. “Haven’t you noticed that all the rooms of our hotel have balconies? That it’s possible to go from balcony to balcony by simply stepping from one to the next? They are less than a meter apart.”

Pete flushed. “You were on her balcony?”

“For a little while. My room is nearby.”

“And you watched us?”

“Heard is the better word, since the room was dark.”

“You know what I’d like to do to you?”

“Something rash, I fear,” said the policeman. “In this country, though, I, the police, do the doing—if that is good English.”

“Maybe you have a surprise coming,” said Pete, controlling his anger carefully. He would have plenty of time later on to take care of him. Meanwhile he must find Anna.