Chapter Nineteen

Treasure House

No one moved; no one seemed to breathe. Every man in the hall stared at Kam Kohari, and there were more on the stairs and in the doorways; watching and waiting.

Mannering knew that this was not the moment to speak, or try to exert any further pressure. This man had to make the decision and only he could. Mannering wondered what questions were passing through his mind; what fears. He must be weighing up the chances of getting the treasure safely away against the risk of rejecting all that Mannering said, and staying here.

Suddenly, he stirred. The anguish faded from his eyes but pain remained.

“I shall do what you say,” he said. “If you have lied to me, I shall give a signal and any of these men will kill you.” He spoke in Tarian, very quickly, and there was a growl, as of mingled threat and understanding.

The knife which had threatened him was sheathed.

The imprisoning hands fell from Mannering’s wrists, leaving him free.

“Come,” Kam Kohari said.

He limped towards the staircase and along the passage, then pressed a notch in the polished wood. Slowly the panelling at the side of the staircase slid downwards. At the same time the stairs which led to the cellar moved until they formed a platform with a sheer drop on one side. Kohari stepped on to the platform, and Mannering and two others followed; next the lame man pressed another button and the ‘platform’ began to move downwards. It was in fact a lift.

Nobody spoke as it slowly reached cellar floor level; only then did Mannering see the door in the cellar wall. Kohari pressed the third push, and the door slid open.

Kohari stepped through and then beckoned Mannering, and Mannering realised that the big man, as well as the two who had come with them, were watching him with great intensity.

About him was a blaze of light.

Awareness of Kam Kohari; of the others; of danger; of the past and the future, all dropped away from him, for he was in a treasure house of such splendour that he could think and be aware of only that splendour and magnificence.

At the end of a long, narrow room was a throne.

Its arms, its head, its high back, seemed made of gold encrusted with jewels which shimmered and scintillated and almost threatened to dazzle him. The legs, of gold, had jewelled lions’ heads for their feet. On the seat was a cushion of dark red velvet, its tassels and braid encrusted with diamonds. And on a tall stand, close to this, was a jewelled crown – half-crown, half-turban, set sumptuously with diamonds and pearls, emeralds and rubies, sapphires and amethysts.

The turban was of spun gold.

Nearby were others of like beauty; and bejewelled swords and daggers, caskets, and objets d’art. On nearby shelves above were gold and jewelled mirrors, and a store of personal jewellery: brooches and pins, necklaces and earrings, bracelets and rings, sandals made more of precious stones than linen or leather.

There were carpets, spread out, some sewn and worked with jewels, all of a great richness.

There were gowns and costumes for both men and women, each one priceless for its beauty and doubly priceless for the jewels sewn upon it.

This was a treasure house of Kings.

“John Mannering,” Kohari said.

Mannering heard but did not really know what he said: it was a voice out of the blaze of multicoloured lights.

“John Mannering,” Kohari repeated, and this time Mannering stirred and looked towards the speaker.

“There is enough wealth here to rebuild our nation,” Kohari said.

“I can believe it,” Mannering made himself say.

“Can you find men wealthy enough to buy it?”

Huskily, Mannering said: “Yes. Yes – they exist.”

“Will you find those men?”

“Yes,” Mannering said.

“Do you swear to me that you will take these treasures to a place of safety?”

“Yes,” replied Mannering.

“And do you know that if you fail the penalty will be death?”

Mannering nodded impatiently: “You waste time in making threats, that should be used in getting the cellar emptied.”

Kohari’s face darkened in anger, but cleared again as the force of Mannering’s words struck him. He called sharply to his men, and now a dozen of them appeared, carrying wooden boxes and sacks for packing. The lift came down again and this time held a large crate open at one side; obviously this was for the throne. The sides were lined with foam rubber, and there were wooden locks to hold the chair in place. Eight of them lifted it into the crate with as much reverence as if it had been the body of the Sultan.

Mannering turned away.

“I must go and tell my friends to be ready,” he said.

“You will remember the consequences of betrayal?”

Disdaining to reply, Mannering stepped on to the lift, and Kohari followed. Neither man spoke as they reached the hall. Mannering went on through the doorway.

No one followed him.

The van was drawn up almost opposite the front door of the Consulate, and Brian stood by it. He came forward at once.

“Thank God you’re safe, sir.” “I won’t be if we don’t get three or four more vans here quickly,” Mannering told him grimly. “Hire, borrow or buy them, but get them here. We’ve a big load to take to Hampstead, and mustn’t lose a minute. Call our carriers and say it’s an urgent job for Quinns.”

“I can get at least one more over from Hampstead right away,” promised Brian. “Don’t worry, sir – we’ll fix it.”

He turned and hurried off.

Two and a half hours later the first van was unloaded at Filbert Street in Hampstead, and the crates were taken to the top floor, some stored in Rupert’s and Brian’s flat, the others in empty rooms nearby.

An hour and a half after the first load was delivered, the last was emptied.

Inside the house and in the grounds, pop groups played and people sang, or cooked and ate or – even amid the cacophony – read and talked. And on the top floor Prince Hamid, uncrowned Sultan of Taria, lay in a coma.

Mannering stood and looked down on the handsome face, so calm and untroubled in sleep.

From among the trees and in the street, Kam Kohari’s Tarians watched.

Mannering left the temporary house of treasures when there was still an hour or more of daylight to come. He made no attempt to conceal himself, knowing that at least two of Kohari’s men were following. He beckoned a taxi outside the park gates and gave the Green Street address, saw the Tarians following in a Japanese Toyota which they manoeuvred through the traffic with surprising ease.

Two policemen were in the street, one of whom he recognised.

He went into his own house and up to the top floor. In case someone was lurking nearby he rang the bell and heard movement inside the flat immediately. Lorna called: “Who is that?”

“You might say Rupert’s friend,” Mannering said, relieved that she was cautious.

The door opened, but only on the chain; he saw Lorna peering out at him, saw her expression relax, and as she took the chain out of its slot, and let him in, he kicked the door to with his foot, and held her; hugged her.

“What happened to Blount?” he asked.

“The police took him away after I charged him with assault – I’ve no idea what they did with him.”

“No doubt we’ll find out,” Mannering said drily. “And we’ll find out where he comes into the Tarian affair, too.”

“So it isn’t over,” Lorna said.

She looked at him shrewdly, seeing the strain, the anxiety under which he was living; then poured out drinks and manoeuvred him into a chair.

“Did you find the treasures?” she asked.

“Enough to pay the national debt,” he said.

“Oh, John! Where?”

“The Tarian Consulate.” He sipped his drink, lay back with his legs stretched out, and smiled without tension for the first time. “Rupert and Brian and a bunch of hippies are sitting on it, and Hamid is within a few feet of his own throne!”

“Then it is over!” cried Lorna.

“No,” Mannering said. “We have to find out what Rachel and Blount have been up to, and what the Prince is really after. Gordon wouldn’t lie, and it was the young man who set things in motion when he heard that his father was dead.” After a pause, he went on: “Is Rachel still here?”

“Yes. In the spare room.”

“Still unconscious?”

“She was when I last looked in to see her, half-an-hour ago,” Lorna answered. “I locked her in, for safety’s sake.”

“You couldn’t have been wiser,” said Mannering. He sipped again and stifled a yawn. “What I could do with is a couple of hours sleep—”

He broke off, staring at the door.

Lorna twisted round to see what caught his attention.

Prince Hamid stood in the doorway, Rachel just behind him; his face was expressionless, but Rachel’s held a thin-lipped, triumphant smile.

Mannering stared at them as if thunderstruck.

“Mr. Mannering,” Hamid said, bowing slightly. “I congratulate you. You found the treasures and performed the impossible by removing them from the Consulate. I do indeed congratulate you. Now there is only one thing left for you to undertake.”

“What on earth are you doing here!” Mannering burst out. “I thought you were in a coma. I thought you both—”

“The drug neri can cause comas,” the Prince interrupted. “But comas can also be simulated.” He advanced into the room, with Rachel at his side. “Mr. Mannering, you are a man of great honour and discernment, and I regret that it has been necessary to deceive you. However, I had no choice. The treasures of Taria belong to the royal family, not to the state. While they were in the Consulate, however, they could not be taken. Now they are accessible. Rachel and I have been striving to achieve that situation for many months. We were unwise enough to enlist the help of the man Blount, who was much too greedy – and is, I understand, on a charge at Scotland Yard, accused of assaulting your charming wife.”

Prince Hamid paused, but only momentarily, to glance at Rachel.

“The silver was not discovered in the way Blount said, of course. The whole thing was a plan, carefully worked out as an excuse to involve you.”

“And did that work!” exclaimed Rachel.

‘The result was most successful,” the Prince agreed. “And I doubt whether anyone else would have succeeded in finding the treasure and removing it. Now – I wish you to tell your friends to allow me to remove it again, Mr. Mannering. I have a safe place ready for it.”

Mannering said: “Even for the throne?”

“The throne is not significant anymore,” said Prince Hamid. “I shall remain Sultan only for so long as it seems practicable and shall not go back to Taria to rule. However, the throne is of enormous value. But we are wasting time. The treasure must now be released to me.”

“Now,” emphasised Rachel.

“And supposing I say that I won’t release it?” Mannering said coldly.

“You are in no position to refuse,” Prince Hamid declared. “You and your friends actually contrived to remove the treasures from the Consulate. Your part in this would have disastrous consequences for you, if you refused. And for your friends, who have the most romantic notions about you and what they are doing for you.”

Rachel actually laughed.

“He won’t let them down,” she said. “Get a move on, Mr. Mannering. We fooled you completely from the beginning, but you aren’t going to fool us.” She took a small pistol from her pocket. “Hurry,” she ordered.

Mannering finished his drink and placed his hands on the arms of his chair. Lorna looked bewildered and defeated. Rachel covered Mannering with the pistol as he stood up.

“Go into the study,” he said gently to Lorna. “Don’t leave the room whatever you do.” He waited for her to back into the study – then went slowly towards the other door. Rachel gave a little laugh, almost a giggle, of triumph. Filled with exaltation she stood immediately behind him, and the Prince stood just behind her.

Mannering placed a hand on the door knob, and said musingly, as if he could not believe what had happened:

“So both you and the Prince fooled me. Highness, are you sure—” At that moment Rachel pressed the trigger. There was a sharp report, and a bullet buried itself into the wall. Chippings flew, as Mannering wrenched open the door.

In the doorway stood Kam Kohari, holding a revolver.

A group of men surrounded him, each carrying a knife.