SIR GRAHAM FORBES had been waiting for a bare five minutes when I found him in the writing-room of the hotel, his spectacles perched on his nose and a typewritten memorandum on his knee.
‘Sorry to keep you waiting, Sir Graham. I had a little accident on the way.’
‘It’s good to see you, Temple.’ Sir Graham came to meet me with outstretched hand.
We were both struck with a momentary awkwardness. Sir Graham and I had met in a good many strange places, but there had nearly always been another person there, and we had abruptly become painfully conscious of Steve’s absence.
‘I’m glad you’ve come,’ I said. ‘I am very much in need of a friend.’
‘I understand. Where can we go to talk without being disturbed?’
‘My room’s the best place, I think.’
The hotel foyer was almost deserted as we crossed it towards the lift. The François Premier was an extremely respectable hotel, which calmed down early every evening.
‘By the way,’ Sir Graham said as the lift bore us upwards, ‘I promised the receptionist to give you a message. Some chap has been telephoning you every quarter of an hour since ten o’clock. Name of Leyland.’
‘Leyland? What did he want?’
‘Wouldn’t say, apparently. Just kept asking if Mr. Temple was in.’
‘Do they know where he was calling from?’
‘I don’t think so. The chap wouldn’t say much.’
‘Well, if he rings again they’ll put the call through to my room.’
As we walked along the corridor to room number three seven one I noticed that the door of Audry Bryce’s room was open and a chamber-maid was making the bed. I put my head in through the door and asked her when the room had been vacated.
‘During dinner-time, sir. The lady’s staying with friends. The chauffeur came to fetch her baggage.’
‘Very thorough,’ I said as I rejoined Forbes and inserted the key in my own lock.
‘What’s that?’
‘Nothing. I’ll explain later.’
I closed the door and bolted it. Then wound up the sunshade to let some air into the room, which was still close after the heat of the day. Forbes sat down in one of the easy-chairs while I picked up the receiver to call the reception desk.
‘If any calls come in put them through to this room, will you? And you remember that envelope I asked you to look after for me? Would you send a page up with it right away?’
I turned back to Sir Graham, who had unrolled his tobacco pouch on to his knee and was filling his pipe.
‘Now, Sir Graham. Let’s have the answer to this mystery. It’s not true that your doctor ordered you a complete rest?’
‘I’m afraid that was all a story, Temple. I didn’t want too much talk about what I was doing. The fact is I’ve been in Paris for the last few months, working in liaison with Interpol.’
‘You told me on the telephone that you came here on account of a pair of spectacles. Do you mind elaborating on that remark?’
Forbes puffed at his pipe for a few moments and the flame of the match bobbed up and down over the bowl.
‘I’m relying on you to do some elaborating for me, Temple. But would I be right in saying that when you were in Paris you acquired a pair of spectacles which have involved you in a certain amount of embarrassment?’
‘Embarrassment? That deserves a prize for understatement! Several people have been murdered, almost under our very noses; I’ve been threatened with shooting, escaped miraculously from a car crash, whilst my wife has been kidnapped. And you call that embarrassing?’
Forbes had created a grey cloud in the atmosphere above his head, and was thickening it up with every breath.
‘Come to that,’ I said. ‘How do you know about all this?’
‘Interpol’s a wonderful organization. We’ve been following your adventures ever since you were interviewed by Mirabel in Nice. A smart man, that.’
He broke off as a knock sounded on the door. I went to unbolt it and handed a tip to the page who had brought up the envelope. Sir Graham raised his eyebrows enquiringly, but when he saw that I was waiting to hear what he had to say he cleared his throat and went on.
‘Your unfortunate experiences happen to tie up with a case on which I have been working with Interpol. You’ve heard of the Melrose jewels?’
‘Who hasn’t? One of the most valuable private collections in Britain. They were stolen from the Duke of Melrose’s castle at the end of last year. The news of the robbery caused a sensation. Didn’t the thieves tunnel under the castle walls from a cottage just outside and come up directly beneath the family treasure vault?’
‘Yes. A most daring and well-conceived robbery. It wasn’t discovered until four days later, and the thieves got away with stuff to the value of close on half a million.’
‘And this is the case you’ve been working on?’
Forbes, as usual, had packed his tobacco too tight. It had gone out, and he had to apply another match and hold his box over the bowl to make it draw.
‘The robbery was planned by a syndicate, but the brains and uniting force behind the whole thing was a chap called Leather.’
‘Leather?’
‘Yes. Adrian Leather, an international criminal. You know the name?’
‘Yes, I know it. Sorry to interrupt. Go on.’
‘Well, they managed to get the stuff out of Britain, and we still don’t know how. But we do know that they got as far as Tunisia before the hunt came too close to them. Leather hid the jewels, making a careful note of the hiding-place, and the syndicate agreed to split up and wait till things were quieter before they started to sell the stuff. However—’
Forbes took his pipe out of his mouth and thoughtfully contemplated the dead ash in the bowl.
‘—all the best laid schemes of mice and so on. Three months later Leather was crossing a street in Paris when he was hit by a car and received multiple injuries. He survived for a few days in hospital before dying. During that time a woman who was devoted to him never left his side—’
‘Mrs. Audry Leather,’ I said confidently.
‘No,’ Forbes contradicted. ‘You’re quite wrong. This girl was called Diana Simmonds.’
‘Diana Simmonds! By Timothy! That’s the name of the girl who was found murdered outside our flat in Paris!’
‘Correct. Now the interesting thing—’
Forbes broke off. The telephone was ringing. I stood up and crossed the room to it.
‘Hullo. Temple speaking.’
‘This is reception, monsieur. A Mr. Leyland is here to see you.’
‘He’s here – in the hotel?’
‘Yes, monsieur.’
‘You’d better tell him to come up.’
‘Very good, monsieur.’
During the time that I estimated it would take Leyland to come up in the lift I gave Sir Graham an idea of where he fitted into the picture. I was unlocking the door when I heard the familiar rumble of the lift doors opening. Perhaps ten seconds later Forbes and I both recognized a sound which once heard can never be forgotten – the thwack of a silenced automatic. It took perhaps two seconds for the implications to hit us, another three for me to unlock the door and wrench it open.
In the corridor the burly form of Sam Leyland lay twitching on the ground. His hands were both clamped to his back and he was arching his spine in pain. Beyond him the lift doors were closing – just too quickly for me to see whoever was inside.
‘Telephone the hall,’ I called back to Sir Graham. ‘Tell them to stop whoever comes out of the lift.’
I ran towards Sam Leyland and dropped on one knee beside him. He struggled to rise to his knees.
‘Take it easy,’ I said. ‘Don’t move more than you need.’
‘Don’t worry about me. Get that bastard,’ he grunted.
Sir Graham and I bumped in the doorway of the bedroom.
‘I’ve told them,’ he said. ‘They’re watching the lift.’
Over his shoulder I could see the receiver, still off its cradle, lying on its side on the table.
‘Help me to get him in and on to the bed.’
Together we lifted Leyland into the room and laid him on the bed. While Forbes went back to the telephone I split Leyland’s jacket up the back and ripped his shirt open. The bullet had gone in through a neat hole just below his ribs. It probably had not improved one of his kidneys, but it had missed the heart. The bullet was still inside him.
‘They’ve got another think coming if they’re counting on that stopping Sam Leyland,’ growled my patient. ‘That swine shot me in the back.’
‘Did you see who it was?’
‘No. But it was one of Rostand’s lot. Ooh, how I’d love three minutes in the ring alone with Rostand! Ouch!’
Leyland had tried to twist round, but as quickly decided to stay put. Forbes had replaced the telephone.
‘The lift never came down,’ he said. ‘Our man must have got out at the first or second floor. He’s probably gone out via the fire escape or the tradesmen’s entrance by now. I told them to send for an ambulance, and the police. How’s the patient?’
‘Not so bad,’ Sam Leyland said, though he was gasping with pain. ‘I may have gone down for a count, but I still have my eyes open. You know it’s a funny thing, I don’t seem to feel much pain. A bit as if a rather feeble horse had kicked me in the back. Just danged cold.’
‘It’s shock. You’ll feel that bullet all right when it wears off.’
‘Temple—’
‘Yes?’
‘I came here to tell you something. I’m danged well going to say it. If you want to see your wife again let Rostand have those spectacles.’
‘Have you seen Steve? Do you know where she is?’
In my eagerness I had gripped his arm more fiercely than I realized.
‘No, chum. I can’t tell you where they’ve got her, but I do know that she’s still alive. And that’s more than you can say for that poor Bryce girl. That’s what decided me to quit. Murder’s not in my line of business.’
‘What’s your line of business, Leyland?’
‘Well, I’ve done a lot of things in my time, you know. But this offer Rostand made me was the best I’ve had. Four thousand quid for pinching a pair of spectacles. It was money for old rope.’
‘Do you know why Rostand wanted the spectacles?’
‘Not me, chum. I don’t believe in asking too many questions. I say, would it do me any harm to smoke a fag?’
With my help he eased himself carefully on to his back and let me light the cigarette for him.
‘Did you enjoy your little bit of motor-boating at Nice?’ I enquired casually. ‘That came pretty close to murder, didn’t it?’
‘That was Rostand’s idea, not mine,’ Leyland said sullenly. ‘He thought you’d handed the glasses over to the police for good, and decided you’d be better out of the way.’
‘So Rostand was in Nice too? Tell me, Sam, what really happened at the Villa Negra? Why was Thompson beaten up and shot?’
Leyland pulled deeply on his cigarette. I could see that his wound was beginning to hurt him. His face was a nasty grey colour and his voice kept checking. I hoped the ambulance men would come quickly.
‘I won’t say he deserved what he got, but he was too greedy. A hundred quid for telling you he was David Foster! Then after he’d phoned you at the Hotel Alletti he thought he could put his price up. Rostand didn’t quite see it his way.’
Forbes had been on the balcony looking down into the street. I knew by the way he came into the room that the ambulance had arrived.
‘One more thing, Sam. Am I right in thinking that Rostand and Schultz are working together?’
‘They are now. They joined forces in Algiers after you came to the Villa Negra.’
‘Did you ever see anything of Constantin or O’Halloran and a man named Zoltan Gupte?’
Sam Leyland furrowed his brow and made an effort to remember. He gave a sudden wince of pain.
‘By God, that were like a red-hot knife in my back! No. I never saw any of them. By the way Rostand talked about them they belonged to another gang.’
Outside in the corridor could be heard the sound of voices and a great clattering as something bulky was brought out of the lift. Sam Leyland put a hand on my arm.
‘You’ll say a good word to the police for Sam Leyland, Mr. Temple? I’ve done what I can to help you.’
The next moment Renouk burst into the room with the posse. The ambulance men took Leyland away quite promptly, but we could not get rid of Renouk till we had made full statements about the shooting. I gave him a résumé of as much of the information Leyland had given us as I thought would be useful to him.
It was with relief that Forbes and I saw the door close on the last of the policemen.
‘Things are beginning to move,’ Forbes said. ‘I think Renouk will soon put the cat among the pigeons.’
‘But we’re still no nearer our main objective, Sir Graham.’
‘Steve? No, you’re right there. But they’re bound to make some move soon. They’re bound to. And when they do we’ve got to have our plans cut and dried. What you have to decide, Temple, is whether you’re going to agree to hand those spectacles over in exchange for the safe return of your wife.’
‘I’m not in a position to do so, Sir Graham. Not before ten o’clock to-morrow morning. They’re locked away in the vaults of Lloyds Bank.’
Forbes permitted himself the rare vulgarity of emitting a low whistle.
‘This puts a very different complexion on things. What made you decide to do that?’
‘It’s a long story,’ I warned him.
‘I think I’d better hear it.’
I gave Forbes a full account of everything that had occurred since the moment when I had first set eyes on Judy Wincott at Fouquet’s in Paris. He listened without a single interruption, making occasional jottings in his pocket-book. When I had finished he went through the list of questions he had noted to clear up the points about which he had been in doubt.
‘I think that’s pretty clear. And I agree with your appreciation of what Rostand’s next move will be under the present circumstances. Now, I have my own ideas, Temple, but in view of the fact that Steve is in pawn, as it were, I feel it’s up to you to suggest what should be done.’
‘Right,’ I said, and spread out the map of Tunis which I had found on board the yacht. ‘Here’s what I suggest. My guess is that the circles marked on this map indicate the various buildings in which the gang have an interest. For instance, the House of Shoni and this hotel are so marked. Crosses indicate where certain incidents were to happen. I believe that cross on the Rue de Rome indicates where Steve was kidnapped, for instance.’
‘I follow you. Would it not be advisable to ask the police to raid all these places without delay?’
‘With Steve inside? Do you place such faith in the Tunisian Police Force?’
Forbes acknowledged my point with a wry, sideways inclination of the head.
‘No,’ I went on. ‘My first object is to get to where Steve is and be with her when the balloon goes up. Now, if you were in Rostand’s place what would you do?’
Forbes sniffed twice and rubbed his chin. He felt in his pocket, and I knew that I would have to watch him go through all that business with his pipe again.
‘Well,’ he said after a moment’s thought. ‘After encountering you at the Hôtel Tunisie and knowing that the police were turning Tunis upside down, I would decide that something had to be done without delay. If I have been playing on your nerves, I would consider that by now you were in quite a flap. I would wait till the small hours of the morning, when a man’s morale is at its lowest, and then I would put the pressure on you.’
‘How would you do that? By telephone?’
‘Yes. But I’d know that any incoming calls to you could be traced by the police. I’d ring you from a call-box, and tell you that if you wanted to see your wife alive you’d better present yourself pronto with the spectacles at a point to be named by me.’
‘That’s what I think too. And when that call comes through I shall undoubtedly have to move very quickly. It will rest with you to organize the counter-attack. When you’ve had the call traced you can plot the position of the call-box on that map and decide which of the marked houses to put your money on. But I rely on you to stop Renouk from staging an artillery duel—’
‘You’re taking a big chance,’ Forbes said thoughtfully. ‘And there’s another thing. Isn’t Mr. Rostand going to cut up pretty rough when he finds you’ve gone empty-handed?’
I didn’t answer for a moment, but looked at Sir Graham speculatively.
‘What are you looking at me like that for?’
‘Sir Graham—’
‘Yes?’
‘Would it be terribly inconvenient for you to part with your spectacles for a time?’
He was still gazing at me in astonishment when the telephone rang. We both glanced towards it quickly and our eyes met. I walked to the bedside table on which the instrument stood. There had been so many calls during the day that I tried to tell myself that this was not the vital one. But even as I lifted the receiver I felt it somehow alive in my hand.
‘Temple speaking.’
‘Listen, Temple. You want to see your wife again – alive?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then listen carefully and obey these instructions quickly and accurately.’ The voice was muffled and harsh as if its owner were speaking behind a handkerchief and straining to disguise his pronunciation. ‘You are being watched all the time. If you try to trick us or to contact the police your wife will be dying when you get to her. You understand me?’
‘Yes. Get on with it.’
‘You have the spectacles with you?’
‘Yes.’
‘I hope you are telling the truth. Within ten seconds of my ringing off you will leave your room, and within half a minute you will emerge from the hotel. A cab will be waiting just opposite the hotel on the far side of the street. You will get into it. You heard that?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then you have forty seconds from now.’
There was a click and the line was dead. I glanced at the long hand on my watch which marked the seconds.
‘I didn’t recognize the voice,’ I told Sir Graham. ‘I have to move fast. Will you lend me your glasses?’
Forbes, with a slightly sad look, handed me his spectacles. They were remarkably similar to the pair reposing in Lloyds Bank, with strong broad ear-pieces. I tucked them into my outside breast pocket and replaced the handkerchief over them.
‘The rest is up to you,’ I told him. ‘Good luck.’
‘Good luck to you, Temple,’ he said quietly, his hand on my shoulder.
I was walking down the corridor twelve seconds after the call had ended. That meant I had to make up two seconds on my trip to the hotel entrance. I had no doubt that my unseen caller had meant everything he said. Rostand was thorough enough to have even worked out the minimum time I would need to get down.
The indicator lights outside the lift showed me that it was on the ground floor. I would have to use the stairs. I leapt down them four at a time. Between the second and first floor I met a waiter carrying a tray of drinks up to someone’s room. I hit him square amidships. He crumpled back against the wall and the glasses went flying.
As I careered on I heard him hurling most unwaiterly comments after me.
I had eight seconds in hand when my feet touched the ground floor. The foyer was deserted now, but as the Hotel François Premier offered a twenty-four hour service, there was still a clerk at the reception desk. He gaped when he saw me sprint across the brilliant carpet that had once graced a Royal Palace in Egypt. I slowed to a walk as I came to the hotel doors. The side glass panels had been closed, and I had to push my way through a swing door.
Behind me I heard the night receptionist call out: ‘Mr. Temple! Oh, Mr. Temple!’ but I had no time for him.
I stood for a moment under the canopy which extended over the section of pavement outside the hotel. I was dead on time. The streets were not quite deserted, and many of the café lights were still burning. There were a surprising number of pedestrians about. Tunis was not so dead as London would have been at this hour of the night. There were still cabs in the rank along the street, but opposite me I could see a solitary taxi drawn up at the kerb. The white blob of the driver’s face was turned in my direction. As I walked across the road towards him he reached out a hand and opened the door of the rear compartment.
No word was said as I climbed in and shut the door. He already had his engine running. All he had to do was engage the gear and drive off. I was surprised that I was being allowed such comfort and freedom. I could see exactly where we were going and make a note of the route.
The driver took me northwards and through a maze of streets that eventually emerged on a long, tree-lined boulevard running all along the east side of the modern quarter of Tunis. It was deserted at this hour. After some distance my driver pulled towards the kerb and stopped.
‘Here you will get out,’ he said. ‘Continue to walk in this direction. Keep close to the edge of the kerb. Do not stop or speak to anyone.’
‘How much do I owe you?’ I asked him as I got out. He did not take the joke. Instead he uttered the five-letter French word.
I started along the apparently interminable boulevard. Behind me the taxi-driver had doused his lights. The palm trees planted at regular intervals along the boulevard were etched clearly against a night sky brilliant with an unbelievable multitude of stars.
I had gone a quarter of a mile when I noticed that the bole of the palm tree which I was passing was illuminated by the lights of a car coming up behind me. I saw my own shadow lengthen in the yellowy light of the cadmium bulbs. The car swished past within inches of me. It was a large American model the size of a cruiser. It stopped a few yards past me and the rear door opened.
‘Get in,’ a voice invited me.
I stooped to enter, and immediately put my head into a thick bag of some coarse material. A pair of hands pulled me forward and downwards, and another pair yanked me on to the floor of the car. I heard the door slam.
‘Make no trouble,’ a dangerous voice commanded me in French. ‘Just keep still where you are.’
I made myself reasonably comfortable and obeyed my instructions. I could feel the car gathering speed. It was a good thing that I had not tried to have myself followed. Rostand’s methods of abduction had made sure that any shadower would have been detected. I supposed that ten minutes must have passed since the call came through. I wondered how much luck Forbes would have in tracing it.
With the sack over my head I could not tell how long the journey lasted. We seemed to be turning a great many corners, and I guessed that the driver was making sure he was not being followed. After that our speed seemed to mount and I heard the whine of the tyres on the tarmac of a main road. The sound continued for a long time and my heart sank as I realized I was being taken some way out of Tunis. We must already be beyond the confines of the map I had left with Forbes.
Presently the car slowed and there came that characteristic roar which low-pressure tyres make as they pass over stone-paved roadway. We lurched through several sharp bends, then stopped. I heard someone climb out of the front seat and knock on a wooden door or gateway. There came the clatter and squeak of bolts being drawn. The car ran forward a few more yards, then came to a final halt. My two companions in the rear seat opened the door and handled me out. There was no point in resisting. Still blind, I was led, each of my arms firmly held, up a flight of steps, along a corridor and into a room.
The sack was pulled off my head.
‘Sit down, Mr. Temple.’
The voice was dangerously polite, and I recognized it as Rostand’s – the same voice I had heard at the Villa Negra. My eyes were gradually focusing to the light. I saw that I was in a small room furnished as a comfortable office and sitting-room. Schultz was seated at the desk. This time there was no false friendship on his face. His expression was one of undisguised hostility. Rostand was at the uncurtained window, which seemed to look directly out to sea. He was half standing, half sitting on the ledge. I thought he might be slightly drunk. He seemed excited and very full of confidence.
The third of the men waiting in the room was so small and insignificant that I had not noticed him till now. He sat hunched in the corner like a little wizened old mouse, watching the scene from huge saucer eyes.
‘I hope you have had an enjoyable day, Mr. Temple, and not been too worried about your wife.’
‘I’ve had a very interesting day,’ I said. What I most needed was time. If Rostand was in the mood to banter so much the better. ‘Mr. Zoltan Gupte and Mr. O’Halloran were both very hospitable.’
‘O’Halloran!’ Rostand exclaimed. ‘But he was murdered last night.’
‘Then you should really meet his ghost. It’s just as good as the real thing. Even Gupte was taken in by it.’
Rostand glanced swiftly at Schultz and then back at me. ‘You’re lying. The police are looking for his murderer.’
‘I’m sorry you don’t believe me. I could have told you several other useful things.’
‘Such as what?’
‘For instance that you made a great mistake in killing Audry Bryce. That is what made the good Sam decide to turn Queen’s Evidence – or Bey’s Evidence, as I suppose they call it here.’
Schultz pushed his chair back and stood up.
‘Let’s cut out the fancy talking, Pierre.’
He turned towards me. His blue eyes with their curiously dead expression were absolutely merciless.
‘I hope you have not been so unwise as to try any tricks. You have brought the glasses?’
‘Yes. I have.’
‘Then hand them over.’
‘Not till I’ve seen my wife.’
Schultz sneered.
‘You poor fool. Do you not realize you are now in our power? If you have the glasses it will be perfectly simple for us to take them from you.’
As two gorillas were still standing only a yard behind me this was demonstrably true. I took my handkerchief from my breast pocket, extracted the glasses and handed them to Schultz.
He opened them carefully and both he and Rostand bent their heads to scrutinize them.
‘I hope for your sake these are genuine,’ Schultz said. He looked towards the little man waiting fearfully in the corner. ‘Come along, Armand. You can get to work now.’
Armand stooped to pick up the black wooden box at his feet. Schultz nodded to my two guards.
‘All right. You can put him in with the woman.’
Once again my arms were seized. I was hauled out through the same door and pushed along to the end of the passage. I had time to register the impression that I was already in a kind of basement. The door at the far end opened out on to a flight of stairs, which led farther downwards. At the bottom was a heavy door with a massive lock. One of my guards twisted the key and I was thrust forwards. Behind me I heard the door crash shut and the big key turn. The place was so gloomy that I did not dare to step forward until my eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness.
Then I heard a voice which I knew.
‘Paul! Have they hurt you?’
I moved forward and almost crashed on to my face as I stumbled on a further two steps leading downwards. Steve had run to meet me, and it was only by going into her arms that I avoided falling.
We stayed like that for a few moments.
Then I said: ‘No. I’m all right. What’s more important is, have they – have they done anything to you?’
‘No. Apart from making me lie on the floor of a car with a smelly old bag over my head. My main problem has been boredom. I’ve been sitting here doing nothing since about midday.’
‘Where did they pick you up? Somewhere in the Rue de Rome?’
‘Yes. I fell for a very old trick. A man pulled up beside me in a car and said you’d had a bad accident and I was needed back at the hotel at once.’
‘Oh, Steve! I thought you were too experienced to fall for that one.’
Steve laughed softly.
‘So did I. But when it actually happened— Paul, what are you doing here? Did they kidnap you?’
My eyes were beginning to become accustomed to the gloom. There was a window high up in the wall, and some of the light of the stars was filtering through. The two thugs had not turned off the bulb on the stairway outside, and a bar of light shone through the half-inch gap at the bottom of the massive door.
‘No. I came by invitation, as it were.’
‘You mean you walked into this? I’m not going to pretend I’m not glad to see you, Paul, but – you haven’t let them take the spectacles? I believe that’s the only thing that prevents them from killing us.’
‘No. The spectacles are where they’ll never get them. I gave Schultz a false pair. It’s only a question of time before they find out that I’ve tricked them. We may be in for a rather sticky time, Steve.’
Steve put her head against my arm and squeezed my biceps.
‘I feel I can face it better now that you’re here.’
‘What sort of place is this we’re in? Is there a light switch?’
‘It’s outside the door, I think. Doesn’t the smell give you a clue?’
I peered round in the darkness. Sure enough there was a musty, vinous aroma in the air reminiscent of a pub. I could just make out the shapes of two huge wine barrels. I put a hand to the dark walls and felt the cold bottom ends of row upon row of bottles.
‘It’s the cellar. But isn’t that the sky outside?’
‘Yes. I think the house above us must be built on a cliff. I’ve been able to hear the sound of the sea below this window.’
‘Any chance of escape that way?’
‘I’m afraid not. It’s barred and covered with wire mesh. There’s a bench over there if you’d like to sit down.’
Steve led me towards the bare section of wall under the window.
I said: ‘Pity we haven’t a couple of glasses. We could at least celebrate our reunion.’
‘There is a glass somewhere. I saw it during daylight. I think I can find it.’
Steve began to grope about on a shelf which I could hardly see. I cursed myself for not remembering to put my pencil torch in my pocket. Still, the thugs would probably have taken it. I had felt their expert hands running over my pockets soon after I’d been hauled into the car. My gold cigarette-case, my lighter and my wallet had all gone. Perquisites of the profession, presumably.
‘Here we are,’ Steve said. ‘It’s quite a big one.’
‘Good. We can share it. Now did you notice whether there was any champagne?’
‘No. I’m afraid it never occurred to me to make wassail. There must be champagne somewhere. It’s all neatly labelled and marked with prices.’
‘By Timothy, Steve! Why didn’t I think of it before? We must be underneath the Trou du Diable, Schultz’s restaurant in Sidi bou Saïd. It’s about the right distance and that matches up with you hearing the sea.’
I had begun to make an exploration of the bottles in the wine racks, trying to recognize, by feel, the different types.
‘I think you’re right. Some very tantalizing smells of cooking have drifted through to me, and all I had was bread and cheese.’
I said with false cheerfulness.
‘Here we are; struck lucky first time.’
Under my fingers I could feel the distinctively wired, bulbous cork of a champagne bottle. I loosened the wire and began to prize the cork out. It would do neither of us any harm to have our spirits lifted. We would probably need a good deal of Dutch courage before long. I wished I had remembered to mention Le Trou du Diable to Forbes. The chances of his finding us here were very remote.
The cork came out with a pop that sounded curiously like a shot from a silenced automatic. I held the bottle at an angle and poured some of the bubbling liquid into the glass. We drank each other’s health, sitting close together on the narrow bench. I held my watch in the bar of light from the door. It was just two o’clock, about fifty minutes from the time I had received the telephone call. I was sure now that the call had been made from somewhere in Tunis, nowhere near our present whereabouts, and that even at this moment Sir Graham might be making an abortive raid on some empty hide-out.
Silence was bad medicine under these conditions.
‘I’ve found out a good deal since we last met,’ I said. ‘In fact this has been an extremely eventful day.’
I told Steve about the long chain of events which had kept me busy since that morning. She cheered up considerably when she heard that Sir Graham Forbes had appeared on the scene, and listened eagerly when I recounted the story of the Melrose jewels.
‘I remember reading about that. Did Sir Graham explain what the significance of the spectacles was?’
‘I’m afraid that was one gap in the otherwise very full picture he painted for me. Luckily I was able to fill it in for him.’
‘Paul! You mean you’ve known the answer all along? How unfair of you not to tell me!’
‘I haven’t known it all along, but I began to have an inkling when we were discussing things last night. I was able to confirm it this morning soon after I so unwisely left you.’
I stopped to pour a little champagne into the glass. It was a pretty good vintage; probably 1952, I thought, and possibly a Delbeck. I was looking forward to seeing the bottle in the light and confirming my diagnosis.
‘Well, go on!’ Steve nudged me impatiently.
‘When the gang decided to split up it was Leather who had the responsibility of hiding the loot. He took it to some place out in the desert and buried it. He then made an exact trigonometrical calculation of the spot and converted it into a prescription for a pair of spectacles. When the prescription was made up he was able to destroy all the other evidence of the whereabouts of the jewels.’
‘What an absolutely marvellous idea!’ Steve breathed. ‘It seems impossible that anyone could hit on such an inspiration. How on earth did you guess it?’
‘It was a bit of luck, really. I’d been on the fringes of a solution, and then simply because an old optician was a little on the deaf side, I suddenly saw the light.’
‘I think he almost deserved to get away with that – this man Leather, I mean.’
‘Leather was a remarkable man. He was the welding force in that gang – or syndicate, to give them a more flattering name. After his death they were all at each other’s throats, each man out for himself.’
‘How many of them were there? Rostand, Schultz, Leyland?’
‘No. Leyland did not belong to the original syndicate. That consisted of Leather, Rostand, Schultz, Zoltan Gupte – he was the fence who could dispose of the jewels – and a fifth person.’
‘Someone we haven’t met yet?’
‘As a matter of fact we have, but I think I’d rather you didn’t know who it is just at this moment.’
‘Do I know his name?’
‘You know the name very well. It’s David Foster.’
‘I see. So David Foster really does exist, after all.’
‘In a way, yes.’
Steve took the glass from my hand, and after taking a drink was silent for some moments. I thought it could not be long now till the little old man in the study upstairs gave his verdict. It would then be obvious to Rostand and Schultz that the prescription for Forbes’s spectacles did not make geographical sense.
‘How did Judy Wincott get mixed up in all this?’
I automatically felt for a cigarette, and then remembered that I had lost my case.
‘You know the old saying: cherchez la femme. In this case it should be amended to cherchez les femmes, because the women provide a key to the whole business.’
I broke off. A shadow had fallen across the bottom of the door and there was a sound of feet descending the stairs.
‘Keep your chin up, Steve,’ I said. ‘This is it.’
The key clattered in the lock and the door was flung open. Looming hugely in the doorway were the two thugs who had brought me there. Beyond them at the top of the flight of steps was Schultz.
‘Bring them up!’ he shouted harshly. ‘Be quick about it.’
‘Come on, salaud,’ the larger of the thugs grunted at me. ‘Any funny tricks and the woman gets it in the stomach.’
With an automatic levelled at my back I went ahead up the stairs. Schultz had returned to the study. He and Rostand were standing there when we were hustled in, and I knew by their faces that the truth was out. Forbes’s glasses lay on the white blotter of the desk. The frightened little old mouse man had disappeared. Rostand had that unnerving, excited look on his face which I had seen before in the Villa Negra. Schultz, on the other hand, had gone a livid grey. He was in the grip of an overwhelming rage.
Rostand rushed towards me the moment we were pushed through the doorway.
‘Hold his arms!’ he hissed to the guards. My arms were pinioned to my sides while Rostand drove his clenched fist repeatedly into my cheeks, my eyes and my mouth. I rocked my head back at each blow, but I could feel the blood trickling into my eye and taste it on my tongue. He stopped abruptly when he found that his own knuckles had begun to bleed.
‘All right, Pierre,’ I heard Schultz say. ‘We haven’t any more time for games.’
He had seized hold of Steve when she tried to rush forward and throw herself on Rostand. He had her arm twisted behind her, and was able to hold her with one hand. She did not cry out, but she had turned quite white.
‘Mr. Temple,’ Schultz said with dangerous politeness. ‘You have wasted a lot of time. I beg of you not to delay any longer in telling the truth. We are going to find out where those spectacles are, you know.’
Still holding Steve easily with one hand, he brought her towards the table just in front of me. She was gasping with pain when he pinned her other hand palm upwards on the table.
‘Pierre,’ he suggested, ‘you have your automatic?’
Pierre groped in his pockets and produced a Beretta. He was watching Schultz for his cue.
‘You know that a shot through the hand is one of the most painful wounds? I am going to count five and then Pierre will pull the trigger. One…two…’
Schultz, as I knew well, was not lying when he said that a hand wound is one of the most painful. I could feel the sweat breaking out all over my body. The hands that held me had tightened their grip.
‘…three…four…’
‘All right,’ I said. ‘I’ll tell you. They’re in the vaults of Lloyds Bank in Tunis.’
‘How do we know you’re telling the truth?’
‘The receipt is in my wallet. One of your gorillas pinched it from me.’
The automatic was still aimed at Steve’s hand. Schultz showed no surprise at my wallet having been stolen. He merely glanced up enquiringly and one of the guards, with a very sheepish look, produced it. Schultz released Steve’s hand to flick it open. The money had vanished, but the small receipt from Lloyds Bank was still there.
‘Let him go,’ Schultz said, ‘but keep him covered.’ He addressed himself to me. ‘Go to the desk and write on it: “Please hand the package specified on this receipt to the bearer” – then sign it.’
I went to the desk and wrote as he had directed. There was little doubt in my mind that I was signing both our death warrants, but I could never have steeled myself to watch Steve being shot through the hands. I handed the document back to Schultz. He and Rostand studied it.
‘Will that do the trick?’ Schultz asked the other man.
‘Yes,’ Rostand confirmed. ‘They know me at Lloyds. There won’t be any difficulty. It means waiting till to-morrow, that is all.’
‘We can go to the yacht in the meantime. I think we’ve been here long enough, you know. The sooner we move the better.’
They were talking to each other as if Steve and I no longer existed.
Rostand said: ‘Better make sure you haven’t left anything important here.’
‘I’ve checked all that,’ Schultz said, casting a quick glance round the place.
Since he had relinquished his hold of Steve we were each of us watched by one of the guards, their automatics aimed suggestively at our stomachs.
‘Let’s go, then,’ said Rostand. ‘There’s nothing more we can do here.’
Schultz turned to me as he stood at the door.
‘I have enjoyed meeting you, Mr. Temple. Did I tell you that I have read one of your stories? I am so sorry I cannot provide you with a happy ending to this one.’
His voice changed as he addressed the two guards in French.
‘I am leaving you to dispose of them. You know what to do.’
The thugs nodded and the door closed on Schultz and Rostand.
‘I suppose he means dump them in the sea,’ the larger of the two guards said. ‘Well, they may as well walk there on their own two feet as have us carry them. Come on, my friend. If you give us your co-operation we can make this nice and quick for you.’
I knew that Steve was looking towards me, but I dared not meet her eyes. I was feeling too ashamed of myself for not having the guts to suck it out or at least to make a fight for it before the odds against us became too heavy. Dimly in the background I heard the door of the house shutting. I imagined Schultz and Rostand climbing into the car.
Then abruptly a new sound came – the sharp unmistakable crack of a revolver followed by a brief and vicious burst from a sub-machine-gun. The two guards turned their noses towards the door like pointers.
I dived across the front of my own guard at the man who was covering Steve. I heard a shot go off as we both crashed to the ground. I think that desperation and fury must have given me a strength I’d never had before. I pulled the gunman’s head back by the hair and banged it hard on the ground. His body went limp. I turned round to find out how Steve was faring. She was holding grimly on to the gun-arm of the other thug, her teeth gritted with effort. Her adversary had sunk on to one knee and was making only half-hearted efforts to resist her. Between us we soon had the automatic out of his grip. He immediately collapsed on the floor and grabbed for his right foot. The shoe was shattered and blood was spurting from it.
‘What happened?’
‘He shot himself in the foot when you dived across him.’
Outside the corridor a fusillade of shots sounded, followed by the sound of running feet. I could hear Schultz shouting as he came: ‘Armand! Pierre! Open the windows. We will have to go down by the cliff.’
Two more shots were fired outside the door, and I heard a man scream with pain. Schultz wrenched the door open and came in dragging a wounded Rostand behind him. He locked it, and then turned to find himself looking up the spout of the two automatics which I held in either hand.
‘Drop your gun,’ I said, and fired one into the wood behind his ear just to show him that my aim was good. He dropped the gun.
‘Now unlock the door.’
Schultz slowly did as he was told. Meanwhile out of the corner of my eye I saw Steve stoop and pick up his automatic.
‘Now come and stand under that nice picture of Venice.’
With Teutonic dignity and the air of a man who knows how to face the firing squad, Schultz ranged himself against the wall under his aquatint of the Bridge of Sighs. Rostand had crumpled unconscious on the floor, his shoulder shattered by a bullet. The upward rolling eyes and drooling mouth showed that he was not shamming.
That was how the Commissaire Renouk and Sir Graham Forbes saw us when they kicked open the door.