The Mask of Sumi (15 page)

The music stopped, the band played the rally for a Paul Jones. When the two rings of people stopped, women inside, men outside, Mannering found Pearl opposite him.

“Hallo, John. Where have you been?”

“Detecting,” Mannering said lightly.

“Must you, tonight?”

This dance was a slow foxtrot.

“Especially tonight.”

She was light as a feather, and very close to him.

“I feel I want to forget it.”

“Still?”

“More than ever.”

“Still having pleasant dreams?”

“They're not really dreams,” Pearl protested.

“I know,” Mannering agreed. He swung her round, and slid his hand along the small of her back. She was quite cool.

She winced.

“Did I tread on you?” asked Mannering. “Sorry.”

“No, something pricked me.”

“
What?
” asked Mannering, sharply.

“I'm sure it did.”

“Let's go and see,” Mannering said, and led her off the floor. “What was it like?”

“A sharp pain – oh, nothing, but—”

“Like the one when you examined the clothes in Port Said.”

Her eyes lit up.

“Just like that.”

They were on the promenade deck where a few chairs were dotted about but no one was lounging now. Under a lamp, Mannering said: “Let me see.”

She turned round. In the small of her back was the tiny scratch made by his pin, and there was a globule of blood. He dabbed this off with the corner of his handkerchief.

“It's nothing to look at,” he said. “I'm trying to think who was dancing near us at the time.”

“John,” Pearl said. “You're not trying to frighten me, are you?”

“I want to make sure you're alive to all the dangers,” Mannering said. He squeezed her. “You're too precious to be injured, you know.”

She said in a startled voice: “Precious? To
you?
”

“Very precious.”

“But—your wife, Lorna?”

“She's a long way away,” Mannering said deliberately. “And I have a feeling you are precious to her, too.”

Pearl was leaning against him. Out in the still sea the lights of a ship showed, like an island in the darkness; above them a tiny segment of the moon lay on its back. There was no breath of air.

“This is wonderful,” Pearl said. “Wonderful.”

“Isn't it?”

“John.”

“Yes?” he whispered.

“I think I—” she began, but stopped.

“Go on.”

“No.”

“Please go on.” His arm was round her shoulders now.

“John, I shouldn't have started to talk like this.”

“I don't yet know how you're talking.”

She leaned back against him and turned her head to look into his eyes. Her flawless skin seemed to glow. The way she stood made the line of her dress stand away from her bosom, and the deep and enticing curve of her breasts was like alabaster.

“Please don't make me talk.”

“You must talk,” Mannering said. His hand stole a little higher, above her waist.

She said: “John, I think I am in love with you.”

 

 

Mannering could still hear her voice, could still see her upturned face and feel the pressure of her body against his. Throughout the hot, sultry night, when no breath of air seemed to come through the open portholes, he had slept fitfully, and on each waking had found her image in his mind.

“John, I think I am in love with you.”

A little crowd, happy and hilarious with drink, had come along the deck then, the men whistling at Mannering and Pearl. The spell had been broken, and neither of them made any attempt to recapture it.

A bell rang; the early call. He pressed for his morning tea, and the little Indian from Goa who never seemed to understand him brought it.

“Good morning, sahib.”

“Good morning.”

An hour later, shaved and showered, Mannering went along to the surgeon's quarters. Roughead's door was unlocked, but the surgery was empty. The nursing sister, small and bright-eyed, came along.

“Can I help you?”

“Can I find Dr. Roughead?”

“He'll be along in two or three minutes,” the Sister said.

Mannering waited in the air-conditioned room, one of the few cool spots on board. Why were the English so reluctant to admit the merits of air conditioning? He felt blessedly cool. He kept on seeing those vivid pictures of Pearl and Naomi – and of Lorna. There was a lot in common between Lorna and Naomi. But Pearl? He remembered how horrified Lorna had been when she had realised that Pearl had boarded the ship.

The door opened.

“Hallo, Mr. Mannering,” Roughead said breezily. “I thought you'd soon be along. I've examined Miss Toji's blood specimen.”

“Ah,” said Mannering.

“Group O, perfectly normal.”

“No sign of hashish or a similar drug?”

“None at all.”

“Thanks,” said Mannering. “Thanks.”

“It's a great relief,” Roughead said.

“Ah, yes,” agreed Mannering. “Very great.”

He went down to breakfast. Pearl as always was having hers in her cabin.

Lister came over.

“Good morning, Mr. Mannering.”

“'Morning.”

“I've a list of people who could have gone to see O'Keefe.”

“And whom he would have let in?”

“Possibly.”

“Don't hold out on me,” Mannering urged.

“Major Thomas,” declared Lister. “Mrs. Ransom, Mr. John Mannering, and Miss Toji.”

“Ah,” said Mannering.

Lister looked at him curiously.

“Did you call on O'Keefe?”

“Only when I broke his door down.”

“Not before?”

“No, but I doubt if I could prove it.”

“So do I,” said Lister. “The others couldn't prove they didn't go in to see O'Keefe, either. Doesn't make the situation any easier, does it?”

“No.”

“There's a call due for you from Aden in fifteen minutes,” Lister changed the subject abruptly. “Will you go up to the Marconi office for it?”

“Of course,” said Mannering.

The Radio Officer was waiting for him when he reached the office. The inevitable squeaks and squawks were coming out of the complicated and elaborate instruments. There was a telephone by the man's side.

“Won't keep you a jiffy, Mr. Mannering.”

“Thanks.”

“Captain Cross would like you to go and see him after the call.”

“I will.”

“
Hallo.
” The Radio Officer's voice changed. “Hallo, Aden—yes, he's on the line.” He motioned to the telephone, and breathed: “The agents, sir. They know what you want.”

“Thanks—hallo, there.”

A man said clearly: “Mr. Mannering.”

“Yes.”

“I understand you would like to have your correspondence opened and described to you. Is that right, sir?”

“Yes. I'm particularly interested in one large enough to contain photographs.”

“And it is in order for them to be opened?”

“Yes.”

“One moment, sir.”

The pause seemed to go on for a long time, and then a woman said very clearly: “Hallo, darling. Ready for a shock?”

Mannering gasped: “Lorna!”

 

He had not dreamt that she was at Aden; the possibility had not even crossed his mind. But it was so like her. Mannering was silent for what must have seemed a long time.

“Are you there, darling?” Lorna sounded anxious.

“Shocked into silence,” Mannering said at last. “It's wonderful to hear you.”

“You haven't had the shock yet,” said Lorna.

“From the photographs?”

“Yes.”

Mannering said in a low pitched voice: “The Pearl of the picture isn't the Pearl we know, is she?”

After another long pause, Lorna said in astonishment: “So you know.”

“It's been pointing that way for a long time.”

“Does she know you suspect?”

“I've tried to make sure she doesn't.”

“I've heard what has happened,” Lorna said. “Be very careful.”

“I'll be careful,” Mannering said. “What I really need is luck.”

 

He did not go straight to the Captain's cabin, but to the verandah deck behind the bridge. He stood looking out on a sea as blue as the Mediterranean and almost glassy smooth. A long way off a ship showed up against the horizon, sailing through the haze of motionless heat.

He kept seeing Lorna's face as if it were reflected in the water.

He kept seeing Pearl's.

He heard footsteps, and Cross came towards him.

“Good morning,” Cross said. “You've had your call, I'm told. Has it helped?”

“It's helped a lot,” Mannering said. “You won't like it.”

“I'm not personally or emotionally involved,” Cross pointed out.

“The woman on board who represented herself as Pearl Toji, daughter of the dead Nikko Toji, is an impostor,” Mannering announced.

“Good God!” Cross looked appalled, in spite of what he had said. After a long pause he went on: “Positive?”

“Yes.”

“Had you any idea?”

“Yes,” Mannering said slowly. “I began to fear it in Port Said, because I didn't see how she could have been spirited away from the sightseeing crowd. It was much more likely she would go willingly. She wasn't injured at Kassim's place. She talked about a scratched finger, but knock-out drugs can't be administered so easily as that. And—she's been so careful since we left Gibraltar. It could have been the result of hashish, but it wasn't typical.”

“Roughead says her blood is quite clear.” Cross remarked. He still sounded shaken.

“Yes,” said Mannering. “And the dutiful daughter of a Thai family couldn't behave as light-heartedly as that so soon after her father had died. Moreover, a girl from Thailand who has lived a fairly secluded life wouldn't be so expert at all the Western dances. She came, she said, on the spur of the moment. Then why did she bring a wardrobe which made her the best-dressed woman on board?” Mannering moistened his lips. “When I knew she could have visited O'Keefe before he died I was virtually certain she was involved. I think O'Keefe was killed to make sure he couldn't name her.”

Cross said: “It's a dreadful thought that such a lovely creature—” he broke off before adding wryly: “Didn't think I was a romantic did you?”

“It doesn't surprise me as much as all that,” Mannering said drily.

“What do you expect now?”

“A final attempt to get the jewels off the ship before we reach Aden,” Mannering said. “I can't believe that the thieves will allow them to stay on board after that – they must know they can't go on indefinitely.”

“I sometimes wonder whether they've ever been on board, or whether the empty mask was left here to fool us.”

“I doubt it.”

“Why?”

Mannering said: “They've tried to kill me since. They have killed O'Keefe. Kassim took the grave risk of getting on the wrong side of his Government – he's stuck his neck right out. He wouldn't have gone to such lengths unless he had a lot at stake. A million or so, for instance.”

“I suppose that's logical,” Cross said.

“Pearl, Kassim, and whoever is working with them are bound to realise that the deception can't go on forever. If they know that my wife flew to Aden they'll realise that Pearl's game will be up there.” He dabbed his neck with his handkerchief. “We've two more nights.”

“Nights?”

“I always expect trouble by night,” Mannering said. “Days and nights, if you'd rather have it that way.” He dabbed his upper lip. “I wish I could be sure who is absolutely reliable.”

“Meaning Thomas?”

“Yes,” Mannering said. “And Naomi Ransom.” He thought of the information in the cable. “We want Pearl watched wherever she goes. Her porthole must be under constant observation. If she gives or sends anything to anyone else we must be told, and must examine whatever it is.”

“We can rely on the crew,” Cross said. “I'll have all the stewardesses warned and tell the cabin stewards. I'll have a word with the nursing sister and the hostesses, too. I'll make sure Miss Toji's cabin is under observation minute by minute.”

“Second by second,” pleaded Mannering.

“All the time,” agreed Cross. “We'll have her watched and followed so that we know everyone she speaks to, know every move she makes. Leave that to me.”

“Thanks,” said Mannering gratefully.

When he left the Captain, he was wringing wet, it was so hot and humid. He turned on to the promenade deck for a breath of the still air, and heard gusts of laughter; a foursome was busy playing deck quoits – Joslyn and the plump woman among them.

“Don't forget your final tomorrow morning,” she called. She looked as if she was running in sweat, but was as lively as could be.

Mannering waved and smiled.

Further along by the crescent of deck space in front of the main lounge, Naomi was standing. Mannering joined her.

“There's a following wind, and it cancels out the wind the ship's making,” she said. She looked pale and her eyes looked glittery. “It's unbearable, John. I've never been so hot.”

“They promised us coolness after Aden,” Mannering said.

“I don't believe it will ever be cool again,” Naomi forced a smile. “If it gets any worse I'll be really ill.”

“You ought to take it easy,” Mannering said. “Have a cold shower and—”

“Oh, don't talk the same claptrap as the others,” Naomi said exasperatedly. “Ten minutes after a shower I'm wringing wet again.”

“I think I'd better leave you alone until after Aden,” Mannering said.

She made no comment as he went on. Was she really affected by the heat or was she being bad-tempered for some other reason to do with his problem?

Thomas, with his shirt clinging to him in great damp patches, said brightly: “Red Sea Rig tonight, John!”

“What's that?”

“Open-necked shirt and cummerbund. Oh, and a pair of trousers!”

Mannering laughed.

A few people were dotted about the deck, hot and listless. The sea was like a sheet of oily glass. Two freighters passed, a long way off. Mannering was watching one which seemed to be listing, when he heard footsteps, and glanced round.

Pearl was approaching.

She looked the only cool person on board.

“Hallo, John,” she said. “You've been avoiding me.”

“Have I?”

“You know you have. I shouldn't have told you that I was in love with you, should I?”

He smiled at her, very gently. “Shouldn't you?”

“John,” she said, “Lorna need never know. We could have a wonderful few days after Aden. It will be cooler, and in Mombasa it should be wonderful. We could stay at the Oceanic Hotel for a few days.”

“Do you know the coastline?” Mannering asked.

“Only by reputation,” she said quickly.

“Pearl,” Mannering said.

“Yes?”

“If we're both on the ship beyond Aden, we'll have a wonderful time,” Mannering said. “Wait until Aden.”

“John—”

He didn't respond again.

“John, do you think you'll know all the answers at Aden?”

That was really what she wanted to know; and he wanted to make her feel that Aden was the end of the run for her.

“I hope to,” he said. “I really hope so.”

“I can't wait until we're beyond Aden,” Pearl said in a soft voice.

She turned and walked away, slim, figure so trim, and looking so tantalisingly cool.