The Mask of Sumi (10 page)

 

Mannering lay awake.

They were nearing Port Said and Suez, and he was no further on in the investigation; he still had no idea who had the mask and there were moments, like this, when he wondered whether it was on board.

There was no wind, and the cabin was hot and airless. There was the usual drone of the engine and buzz of the ventilator louvres, and a few people walked along from Tourist. It must be one o'clock.

A girl said with a deep sigh: “Oh, I love you so much.”

A man said: “I've never felt like this before.”

Mannering heard them with only half his attention.

He had been through every suspect's cabin, and found nothing to help in his search. Naomi had relayed a great deal of information, and so had Pearl. The information tallied in all but minor details. According to Naomi, none of the men showed any animosity towards him, and only Katman claimed to know anything about him beyond what the newspapers said.

The two women he had talked to and whose cabins he had searched seemed to be travelling innocently in every way.

He had been through Naomi's cabin, and found nothing to help.

What should—what could—he do next?

He heard a soft sound at the door; it was probably a rustle of wind, for he felt a slight breeze. Silence fell. He heard another rustle of sound, this time at the window. He was facing it, with his eyes closed. He opened them a fraction, but saw nothing. The ship was moving very slowly, and he guessed they were slowing down for the pilot to take them along the breakwater into Port Said and the entrance to the Canal.

He closed his eyes again – and heard the rustle.

Opening his eyes he saw a dark face, eyes glistening, close to the bed. He saw a glint, as of a knife. He flung himself sideways towards the floor. There was a flurry of movement, a sharp snapping sound, a metallic crack. He felt a warm, oily arm and body. He grabbed, but his fingers slid off the arm. He felt the little creature back away and heard him gasp as if for breath.

“Stop there!” Mannering shouted, hoping to frighten. Padding footsteps sounded on the cabin floor and a dark shape suddenly appeared at the window as the attacker hoisted himself up.

“Stop him!” Mannering bellowed.

He snatched a heavy book from the dressing-table as he straightened up, and hurled it. He heard the assailant cry out, but the book dropped to the floor and head and shoulders appeared against the window.

Outside, someone came running.

Mannering saw the dark shape disappear through the window, heard a shout followed by a scream.

“
George!
”

Mannering saw the little creature who had attacked him stand on the ship's rail for a moment and then dive in. There was hardly a splash.

“Look at that!” cried a man.

“What a dive!”

“
George!
”

Others came hurrying. By the time Mannering reached the deck a dozen passengers and two English and two Indian members of the crew had gathered, many were chattering, several were pointing. Just visible in the light of the ship was a dark dot of a man or a boy's head.

A youthful officer in white was saying: “Which cabin did he come from?”

“Mine,” said Mannering briskly. “I'm going after him. Rescue me, won't you?”

“Mr. Mannering! You can't—”

Wearing only a pair of briefs, Mannering climbed to the rail. A man grabbed him. Someone called: “Don't let him!” He poised for a moment which seemed very long, before diving in. The water was as calm as a swimming pool. He struck the surface, cleft the water, and went under. After another long moment, he surfaced. He could see nothing of the other swimmer, but not far away he could just make out the shape of a boat against the glow in the sky above Port Said. Another ship, lights ablaze, was anchored nearby.

Mannering swam towards the small boat. A searchlight shot out from the
East Africa Star,
a vivid beam which began to sweep the sea. It shone on Mannering and the reflection from the water dazzled him. It passed, and caught the edge of the small boat, lost it, then switched back. A motor-boat with a man in the bows showed up in vivid relief.

Mannering struck out towards it.

The beam travelled along the stretch of water between him and the boat, and stopped. He could just make out a shape which might be a head in the water.

Then he saw a stab of flame coming from the boat. He realised in a flash that the man in the bows was shooting. At him? Fear went through him. He saw two more flashes. The searchlight beam shifted, and for a split second he saw a pair of arms rise out of the water, then they disappeared beneath the surface.

A roaring sound followed. He could make out the wake of the motor-boat which was heading out to sea, not towards the harbour. He felt chilled by what had happened, and turned round, treading water for a moment, then swimming towards the ship. The searchlight shone on him. He thought he heard a shout. A moment later there was a splash in the water near him; a lifebelt. He hardly needed one but swam towards it. When he was near enough to the ship the men on board began to haul him in. Soon, he was able to climb up a rope ladder let down to him.

He could see the crowd and hear the buzz of excitement. A lot of passengers had been restless in the heat, and came rushing out. Now there would be questions, questions, questions.

 

Some time later, wearing only shorts and a shirt, he stood with Captain Cross in Cross's cabin. He did not need telling that Cross was in a savage temper which he somehow kept under control.

“Well, Mr. Mannering?”

“There was no other hope of catching the man,” Mannering said simply.

“If you had raised the alarm I could have radioed Port Said and had the motor-boat held.”

“I doubt it,” Mannering said.

Cross seemed to have grown in stature.

“I am
telling
you what would have happened, Mr. Mannering.”

“This thing was laid on so well that I doubt if the boat would have gone straight to Port Said,” Mannering said, reasonably.

“It would have been apprehended with the man in it. Now there is every reason to believe that the man who attacked you is dead. But for you he would probably be alive.”

“Captain Cross,” said Mannering, softly, “you know as well as I do that I did the only thing which offered a reasonable chance of catching my attacker.” He leaned forward towards a desk, on which was a broken knife – the blade had snapped close to the handle. The knife thrust, meant for him, had hit with such force against the wall that the blade had snapped. “The fact that his accomplice shot him isn't on my conscience and needn't be on yours.”

Cross said coldly: “I think we will leave each other's consciences out of this. I have given you all the co-operation I possibly can. You have grossly abused it.”

“By diving into the sea tonight?” Mannering began to feel angry in turn.

“This has simply brought the situation to a head.
Nine
of my passengers have complained about their cabins being searched.”

“Nine?” echoed Mannering.

“Nine. It must stop, forthwith.”

“It must indeed,” said Mannering. “Yes. Nine, you say.”

“You heard me.”

“I certainly did,” agreed Mannering, “but—oh, never mind.”

“What were you going to say?”

Mannering hesitated, and then said slowly: “I don't think any passenger would know I'd been in his cabin, even if I had.”

“You may not be as expert as you appear to think.”

Mannering drew his breath in sharply, bit on a sharp retort, and said: “If I've caused you any difficulties or embarrassment, sir, I'm really sorry.”

Cross was staring, half-frowning. Then, as if mollified, he said: “I accept that, Mr. Mannering. But it must stop.”

Mannering said: “Can I look at the list of complainants?”

Without a word, Cross got up, took a folder from his desk and handed it to Mannering. He ran his eyes down the list of passengers. O'Keefe was on the list; so was Katman; the rest were only vaguely familiar names.

He looked up.

“None of these have complained because of me. I haven't been in their cabins.”

“Are you asking me to believe that?” Cross asked, coldly again.

“Captain Cross,” said Mannering, “I haven't lied to you yet and I don't intend to.” He picked up a pencil and ticked off the unfamiliar names. “I've no interest at all in any of these people.”

“You mean—someone
else
has been in the cabins?”

“Presumably.”

“Good God! I took it for granted that it was you.”

“Has any of them missed anything?”

“So far nothing has been stolen, but drawers have been opened and wardrobes and suitcases searched.” Cross stood up. “I don't like this one bit. I assumed there was nothing to worry about except excessive enthusiasm on your part. I was going to tell you to stop it, because it's beginning to be talked about among the passengers.” He looked stunned. “Do you think someone else could be looking for that damned mask?”

“It's possible,” Mannering said, although that was the last thing he had expected and certainly the last he wanted. “How much talk has there been?”

“Enough.”

“It hasn't reached me,” Mannering said. “What time do you expect to tie up?” He saw from the wall clock that it was just after four.

“About six o'clock: the pilot's coming aboard at five. We'll be here until eleven or twelve, when the noon convoy to the East will start through the Canal.” Cross was silent for a moment. Then he gave a quick laugh and said: “You've had quite a night. Like a drink?”

“Very much.”

“I can manage a whisky and soda,” Cross said. “If you hadn't woken up, that boy would have killed you.”

“Boy?” echoed Mannering.

“Your description sounds as if it was a boy. They can swim like fishes and dive from great heights. Absolutely fearless.” Cross had his back to Mannering, pouring out the drinks. “You were a bloody fool to dive off the ship, but a lot of George Medals have been handed out for the same kind of thing.” He turned as he spoke. “Cheers.”

Mannering drank.

“Cheers.”

“What made you think it was worth it?”

“If I'd caught him he would have talked.”

“About who had put him up to it, eh? Yes, possibly. But he would have named the boatman and the boatman would have named someone else, and by the time you'd started talking to the police the ship would have sailed.”

Mannering said: “It was worth trying.”

“Answer me a question, Mannering, will you?”

“Yes.”

“What's in this for you?”

Mannering said: “I don't know that there's anything. Possibly a profit if I negotiated a sale for all the Crown Jewels of Sumi, but that's not certain.”

“Then why risk your life?”

“Mine is threatened, Pearl Toji's is threatened,” Mannering pointed out simply.

Cross deliberated.

“I see,” he said at last. “I suppose the truth is I don't really understand you but I admire your courage if not your good sense. Do something for me, will you?”

“If I can.”

“Find out who is searching these cabins.”

“If I get any indication at all, I'll tell you,” Mannering promised. “What have you done so far?”

“Reported that a motor-boat brought a thief near and the ship was boarded,” answered Cross. “The Egyptian police will assume that it was a particularly daring attempt at burglary.”

“That's all?”

“Yes,” said Cross. “We don't know for certain that the swimmer was shot and killed. They're tough, these Egyptian teenagers, and your chap may have been older than you think. If I'd reported the attempted knifing it would hold the ship up a long time. Days, possibly. These Egyptians co-operate very well these days but they would want to get their teeth into this one.”

Cross hesitated, and then demanded: “Do you want the attack reported, Mannering? If you insist, it will be done.”

 

 

Mannering said with a faint smile: “I'd rather it wasn't reported.”

“I thought you'd say that,” said Cross. “I hope it's the best thing to do. Going ashore?”

“Yes,” Mannering said. “Yes, I think so. Two passengers get off here according to the passenger list.”

“Four get on,” Cross told him. “Do you want us to try to check what is taken off the ship? We can't do here what we did at Gib, you know. The police will want the whole story before they'll co-operate.”

“If the man with the mask wanted to get it ashore at Port Said he wouldn't have gone to all this trouble to get me,” Mannering reasoned. “He must have written from Gibraltar, or sent a coded cablegram, or one of his agents might have—”

“Come aboard when we slowed down,” Cross said. “It can be done all right and it's quite easy after dark. The disquieting thing, surely, is that your man could call on someone in Port Said and lay this on. Are you sure that
only
this Mask of Sumi is involved, Mannering?”

“As far as I know,” Mannering said cautiously.

Cross's expression seemed to say: “You may not know very much.” Aloud, he said: “No one would go to these lengths for jewels worth twenty-five thousand pounds, surely.”

“It's a thought,” Mannering said. “Is there any word from Tourist?”

“Except for three young couples, two girls and four young men all going out for short-term appointments in the Civil Services or the schools, we know them all,” Cross said. “They're all fairly regular travellers, and all live in East Africa. Most Tourist passengers are simply anxious to get to their destination as quickly as possible, without frills. We seldom have any odd men out down there.”

Mannering had to be satisfied with that assessment.

Very soon, he also had to accept a great deal of comment, much of it fulsome, about his night dive.

“John, dear,” Naomi said with refreshing matter-of-factness, “don't drown yourself before you've paid me for my honest toil, will you?”

Mannering laughed.

“John!” Pearl said, coming up to him on deck. “Why did you do that last night? I have only just heard.”

“I thought it might bring the affair to a head quickly,” Mannering answered.

“It might have led to your death!” She looked and sounded deeply concerned. “Please don't take such chances again. It is not worth it.”

“Do you really mean there is a limit to what it's worth?”

“Yes,” Pearl said. She leaned against the ship's rail, looking at him. A faint reflection from the deep blue sea travelled across her eyes, and seemed to give her expression an even greater intensity. “Every time someone else is endangered I wish I had not come.”

Mannering didn't speak.

“It is said that the man who attacked you was killed. Is that so?” Pearl asked.

“I think so.”

Pearl looked almost unbelievably lovely as she went on: “John, you were attacked at Gibraltar, and when coming on the ship. Now it has happened again. Every step you take seems to threaten danger. Three people have died already. I think we should give up, here.”

“In Port Said?”

“We could wait for a ship going back, or we could go to Cairo and fly to England.”

“Leaving the mask,” Mannering said very slowly.

“Yes,” Pearl said. Her fingers were light and cool on his arm. “John, why should you risk your life again for my father? You knew him so little. For the mask? You know nothing about the Asri Dynasty. It can mean nothing to you. Give up, John, please.”

He didn't speak. The pressure of Pearl's fingers on his arm became greater.

“John, please go back to London, to Lorna. Forget this terrible affair.”

Mannering said slowly: “I'll think about it.”

“You will, won't you?”

“Very seriously,” Mannering promised.

“Pearl!” Thomas came up, brisk as always. “They're waiting for you in the semi-finals of the women's quoits. Can you play now?”

“Of course,” Pearl said.

She hurried off, Mannering watching her. Thomas stood by Mannering's side.

“How well do you know her, John?”

“I knew her father better.”

“Think she can look after herself?”

“Why?”

“Katman is setting his cap at her,” said Thomas. “So is Nares. Wouldn't trust either of them with my daughter without a chastity belt.” He looked shrewdly at Mannering.

“None of my business, I suppose, but I'd hate anything to happen to a girl like that.”

“So would I,” said Mannering feelingly.

“I felt sure you would. That's why I thought I'd mention it. Er—anything I can do to help you in the other business?”

Mannering echoed blankly: “Other business?”

“My dear chap!” said Thomas. “Three attempts on your life aren't coincidental. There are a lot of us would like to lend a hand, if there's anything we can usefully do. It was discussed at the Sports Committee meeting this morning: your high dive won you quite a reputation. Friend Joslyn can't stop talking about you.”

Mannering exclaimed: “Well, well.”

Thomas grinned. “We're not all blind, John!”

“Obviously not. Then there is one thing you can do.”

“Name it.”

“Watch Pearl wherever she goes on land.”

“Ah. Is she in physical danger, too?”

“She could be,” said Mannering. “Tell only Kenyans or people you know.”

“It shall be done,” said Thomas. “How will it help you?”

“It will leave me free for other jobs.”

“Don't forget that if you want strong-arm help—”

“I won't forget,” Mannering promised him.

“Is Pearl going ashore?”

“Yes. She hasn't been to Port Said before.”

Thomas said: “We'll see she doesn't come to any harm. Don't you worry.” He went off, obviously delighted, leaving Mannering very thoughtful.

 

Soon they began to move slowly along the Channel towards Port Said harbour. As they came alongside, and were moored to the huge buoys, a dozen boats gay and riotous with colour, pulled close to them. Men in the boats packed with leather goods and carpets, sandals and cottons, began to bellow their wares. Every game stopped as passengers crowded towards the side. The big floating bridge was slowly extended and pushed towards the ship but before then goods were being hauled on board, passengers were shouting their offers.

Mannering watched for a few minutes, saw Pearl with Katman and two others – active men on the Sports Committee. Nares wasn't there. He went down to his cabin. His cabin steward said: “Don't forget lock door, sahib.”

“I'll remember.”

“Very small boy easily get in window.”

“Don't I know it!” Mannering said.

He went inside.

He knew at once that this chaos wasn't just Nares' untidiness. A drawer jutted out an inch, clothes hung in the wrong places, books on the dressing-table were displaced.

He remembered Cross's story of the nine passengers whose cabins had been visited.

“Now I wonder what they're after,” Mannering said. He opened a drawer where he kept his ready money. The money, wrapped in a handkerchief, was still there. Suddenly, he frowned.

Two small brown paper packets were in the drawer, packets which he had never seen before. They were about the size of a flat fifty cigarette box, and sealed thoroughly with Sellotape. He began to pick up the tape with his fingernail.

He heard footsteps outside, half-turned, and saw Naomi. She looked alarmed, much of her usual poise gone.

“John, are you in trouble?”

“I often am. What makes you think so?”

“I heard two Egyptian policemen who came on board saying that their first job was to see you.”

“
What?
”

“I speak Egyptian,” Naomi said quickly. “I'm quite sure. And they obviously suspect you of smuggling.”

“Smuggling what?”

“I don't know.” Naomi stared at the packet in his hand. “What's that?” Her voice sharpened.

Mannering said: “I found it in my drawer.”

“My God!” she exclaimed. “That's how they pack hashish. If the police find that in your possession—”

She broke off as if horrified.

Mannering knew only too well what would happen. An Englishman caught in an Egyptian port with a fortune in hashish would be a sensational propaganda gift to the Egyptian Government. They would take him ashore and hold him for questioning and would not release him until the last ounce of publicity value had been wrung out of the situation. The “New Egypt” going all out to stop the traffic in drugs, the decadent Englishman making a fortune out of human misery.

All this flashed through his mind as he opened drawer after drawer and found nothing more.

“John—” Naomi began.

“I've a chance of dropping this into the harbour,” Mannering said. He opened the window and saw the impassive face of a moustached Egyptian just outside.

Footsteps sounded in the passage.

Naomi said swiftly: “Give them to me.” She snatched the packets, and thrust them down the neck of her sundress. “You go out.”

“I can't let you—”

“Don't be a fool!” she said urgently. “Go out!” She pushed him towards the door.

Mannering went out. If there was any risk to her he could tell the truth, so she was in no danger. He need not worry on that score.

He stepped into the passage. Lister, the Master-at-Arms, was coming towards him, with two tall, handsome policemen. Lister stopped. His expression made it all too clear that he was alarmed.

“Oh, Mr. Mannering.”

“Hallo,” said Mannering. “What time are we likely to get ashore?”

“You are Mr. Mannering,” the older of the two officers said.

“That's right,” Mannering beamed. “Can I help you?”

“Mr. Mannering, we have been told that you carry contraband,” the officer said.

“Oh, nonsense!”

“We must please search your cabin.”

“Search—” Mannering drew himself up and turned to the Master-at-Arms. “Can't you stop this nonsense?”

“I'm afraid it isn't nonsense, Mr. Mannering.”

“Then I must see Captain Cross.”

“That's not possible. He is deeply involved with—”

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Mannering again. “I insist.” He thrust himself forward, and the two officers barred his path. “This is outrageous!”

“Mr. Mannering, please!”

Mannering swung round and rushed in the other direction. The policemen cried out, Lister shouted: “Mannering! Don't be a fool!”

Mannering turned to the Tourist promenade deck and heard heavy footsteps thumping behind him. He reached the deck. To the right was his cabin with the man outside it; to the left was an empty deck. He turned left and raced along, the others after him.

As he reached the Tourist swimming pool, passing a doorway on his right, he saw a man's leg stretched out in front of him. He kicked against it and pitched forward. As he crashed on to the deck he saw a man's back as the man climbed a flight of stairs towards the main promenade deck.

 

“Of course there's nothing in my cabin,” Mannering said. “It's a trumped-up charge, and you of all people should know it.”

Captain Cross said coldly: “If you had co-operated with the Egyptian police you would have saved yourself a lot of time and us a lot of trouble.”

“I simply wanted to see you,” Mannering said. He looked at the two Egyptian policemen. “Are you satisfied?”

“We offer our apologies,” the spokesman said. “Our information was from a most reliable source, and we have much trouble with drug smuggling. You are free to go ashore if you wish, Mr. Mannering.”

Mannering said: “Thank you.”

“Captain Cross,” went on the policeman, “I regret that it is necessary to search your ship. Our information that there is contraband on board came from a most reliable source.”

For the first time, Mannering saw Cross put out of countenance.

“Search my ship. You
can't
be serious.”

“I am very serious indeed,” said the Egyptian.

Tight-lipped, and restraining his anger with a great effort, Cross had a loud-speaker announcement made, and ordered his crew to co-operate. Mannering took his first chance to call Lister aside.

“How well do you know the police here?” he asked.

“Well enough. Why?” asked Lister suspiciously.

“They could keep their eyes open for the mask,” Mannering said. “I could telephone the Yard and ask them to phone Port Said or Cairo, if it comes to that.”

“I'll see what I can do,” promised Lister.

 

For four hours in the torrid heat passengers stayed on board while the search was made. Every cabin and every part of the ship was searched with a thoroughness which told Mannering how certain the police were that they would find what they were after. Mannering waited, with a sense of anti-climax, until Lister came up to him.

“Mannering.”

“Any luck?”

“They've found a stack of Egyptian currency in O'Keefe's cabin – he obviously had a black market deal on. They've confiscated the money but O'Keefe's staying on board, thanks to Captain Cross's pleading. And Nares has been held on shore,” added Lister in a tone of suppressed excitement. “He was one of the few who got off before the ship was searched – for smuggling watches in. Bloody fool – he'll be in an Egyptian jail for a long time. They've just finished. I think they turned up something which will interest you.”

“The mask?” exclaimed Mannering eagerly.

“It was found hidden behind some crates in the hold,” Lister said. “The Captain has it now.”