The Mask of Sumi (16 page)

 

It was unbelievable but the heat became worse; and the air was so heavy with moisture it seemed to cling as one walked.

The lights of a ship showed not far away, the only assurance that they were not alone in a boiling ocean.

In the ballroom the band was playing, incredibly, the Gay Gordons; even more incredibly, some people were dancing the ballroom equivalent of the Highland Fling. But lying prostrate in deck chairs were dozens of passengers, some waving fans or paper in an effort to feel a momentary coolness.

Mannering went into the smoking-room. The fancy dress parade was over, he and two women had delivered their verdicts. Here, unbelievably, were two long tables of cold meats and savouries, pastries and sausage rolls. Behind the longer laden table were four men in chef's white cap and smock. Cross came bustling in from the main deck. He had a word with the four chefs, and then called to Mannering.

“Here are the men who've prepared your meals for you,” he said. “Mr… .” He introduced each one.

Mannering duly shook hands and complimented them all.

“The crowd will soon be in,” Cross said. “Got to keep the gaiety up, no matter what the weather is.” He looked as if he would like to dig Mannering in the ribs. They moved away. “I've had all the reports on Pearl Toji or whatever her name is,” he told Mannering in a whisper.

“Well?”

“Nothing suspicious of any kind. And the more I think of it, the more I feel that the chance of her doing anything this side of Aden is extremely remote.”

He broke off as a young officer came up.

“Sorry to worry you, sir.” The youth handed Cross a slip of paper with some handwriting on it. Cross glanced down, frowned, and then said: “I'll be along.” The youngster moved off, and Cross said to Mannering: “Everything is happening on this voyage. There's a man with appendicitis on a yacht, thirty miles away from us. We're the only ship near with a doctor.”

“What does that mean?” Mannering asked.

“We'll have to pick the chap up, and bring him aboard,” said Cross. “That ought to make everyone forget the heat for an hour anyhow.”

 

The
East Africa Star's
loud-speaker blared.

 

“Attention all passengers, please. The ship hove to near us is the South African steam yacht,
Dabreek
. A member of her crew is desperately ill with appendicitis. We are going to bring him aboard. The
Dabreek
will send the man over and we shall hand him aboard on the starboard side.”

 

Every passenger on deck crowded the rails to watch. Mannering was among them, close to the rail.

The sea was like glass, and the lights of the yacht and the mast lights of the boat bringing the sick sailor were keeping very still although the boat was drawing nearer.

A woman cried: “There he is! They won't drop him, will they?”

“Better not,” a man said. “The Red Sea's alive with sharks.”

“Oh, Ben!”

Searchlights focused on a man trussed up in a kind of strait-jacket – a Neil Robertson stretcher which kept him quite rigid. He was strapped at the shoulders, arms, thighs, knees, and ankles. One man in khaki shirt and shorts and wearing sandals was bending over him. The boat was small but its clean lines made it very fast. One man wearing a red fez stood at the helm. In the quiet, the boat's motor was clearly audible, stuttering without a pause.

Out of the ship's side door on C Deck Dr. Roughead appeared. He called down to the kneeling man, who looked up and shouted: “He's got a million units of penicillin in him. He should be all right until he gets to Aden.”

Roughead called something which Mannering did not catch. He was watching the three-man crew closely, puzzled without quite knowing why. The ship's side was crowded up here on First Class and on the Tourist deck.

Then Mannering saw a man he had seen before, but he could not place him.

The man was below, leaning over the rail. Mannering had seen him in just such a position. Here, of course; all day long people were looking over the side, whenever he glanced over he would see a head or shoulders or bare, brown arms.

The man was taking something out of his pockets. They were large discs – the red discs which were used for shuffleboard. He dropped one down towards the little motor-boat, quite casually.

On that instant, Mannering recognised him. His name was Smith and he was the mild-mannered grey-haired proprietor of the Compton Hotel – where Toji had died.

Mannering saw the shuffleboard disc drop on to a heap of rope. Everyone else was too fascinated by the drama itself to notice this. A rope was being lowered from the
East Africa Star's
side, and the man in the stretcher was being shifted so that his head was directly underneath the rope. No one talked. The only noise was the lapping of the water, the staccato beat of the motor-boat's engine as the helmsman kept her level with the
East Africa Star.

There was a hook at the end of the dangling rope, a ring at the top of the stretcher. The man in khaki and a ship's officer in white were trying to put the hook through the loop.

A second shuffleboard disc fell.

Mannering moved and turned towards the main hall. He could see that the rescue operation was being carried out from B deck. He knew just about the right spot, but there wasn't much time.

He saw Thomas standing and talking to a passenger.

Mannering said: “Have you seen Pearl?”

“She was dancing before this sensation. Is this urgent?”

“Yes,” said Mannering. “Very urgent.”

Thomas drew away from the man he was talking to.

“What's on? Pearl in danger?”

“I think she could be planning to board that motor-boat.”

Thomas's expression said: “You're crazy!”

“Alert your chaps, will you?” Mannering said. He moved very quickly, and almost bumped into Naomi. She stopped, dabbing at her lips with a damp looking handkerchief.

“What's the matter?”

“Have you seen Pearl?”

“Yes – five minutes ago,” Naomi said. “For the first time I nearly liked her. She said it was so hot dancing, she was going for a swim.”

Mannering said: “My God! Did she have her swimsuit?”

“Yes.”

Mannering didn't wait for her to finish but ran along the corridors towards the stern. He reached the deck from the deserted ballroom. Two or three young couples were in the shadows, some were by the rails, but they were too far away to get a good view.

Mannering went more calmly down the steps leading to the Tourist class swimming pool. It seemed deserted. He reached the deck, and approached the side where the man was being taken aboard. He saw a solitary figure standing in the black shadow of a winch, and crept towards it.

Pearl was there.

She was in her swimsuit, leaning over the rails. Her bare legs seemed to glow. He had no doubt that it was Pearl, little doubt what she meant to do.

He crept nearer.

Young Joslyn said: “Exciting show, John, isn't it?”

Mannering saw Pearl swing round. Joslyn was standing unobserved in another shadowy spot. Pearl's face showed up vividly.

“Pearl,” Mannering said. “My wife telephoned me from Aden. She's seen a photograph of Nikko's daughter. Don't try to pretend that—”

Pearl swung round. Mannering jumped towards her but Joslyn moved at the same time and got in Mannering's way. Pearl reached the rail and climbed over. Mannering freed himself but Pearl was poised on the rail.

“Pearl!” he cried.

“Stop her!” Joslyn shouted.

Pearl dived.

“My God,” gasped Joslyn. “She's dived in. The sharks will get her. My God.” He was appalled.

Mannering was at the rail, peering down. He saw Pearl in the water fifty feet or so away from the motor-boat. It was pulling away now that the man on the stretcher was aboard. A powerful searchlight beam shone on the water and on Pearl as she swam. A cry rose up from hundreds of throats, a great gasp of sound.

Joslyn cried desperately: “Man overboard!”

The motor-boat, manoeuvring slowly, drew nearer Pearl. The man who had helped the sick man was standing with a boat hook stretching out. Pearl was within twenty yards of it. Mannering could see exactly what was going to happen. She would be hauled aboard and the fast boat would move away towards the parent craft. If once she disappeared she might never be caught.

He kicked off his shoes and ran as fast as he could towards the boat, climbed the rail, and dived in. As he went down he saw the motor-boat was nearer him than he had realised. For an awful moment he saw the danger of crashing into it.

He struck the water ten feet away from the motor-boat, between it and Pearl. He could not see her but could see the man with the boat hook stretching out. He made for the boat itself. It was low in the water, and should be easy to climb into. He grabbed the side, and began to haul himself up. There was a shrill cry. He saw the pilot pointing. The third man swung towards him, and Mannering saw him snatch at an oar.

Mannering tried desperately to get in. He could not see whether Pearl was aboard or not. The man close to him had the oar thrust forward. He struck the side of the boat close to Mannering's hand, tried again, and knocked Mannering's wrist. The pain was excruciating. Mannering snatched one hand away, knowing that he would have to drop back into the water. A word sprang to his mind, one he had heard several times tonight.

Sharks.

He felt something glide beneath him and shivered. The oar smashed again, missing him, but the next time …

He saw a man rise out of the water beside him. It was Thomas. Thomas thrust both hands on the gunwale and hoisted himself up, then began to jump up and down. The man with the oar staggered helplessly.

Then Mannering saw other men of Thomas's Committee clambering aboard. He looked towards the stern. The man with the boat hook was pulling Pearl aboard, but at the same time was looking over his shoulder fearfully.

Thomas, now in the boat, leaned to Mannering.

“Want a hand?” he asked, and gripped Mannering's hand. As Mannering slid up and over the side, Thomas went on: “We've got to board the ship they came from, John. Coming with us, or looking after Pearl?”

Mannering said: “I'll look after Pearl.”

But he wasn't really thinking of her; he was staring at the shuffleboard discs. There were six of them, lying close together, dropped by Mr. Smith of the Compton Hotel.

 

 

Mannering, high and dry on the
East Africa Star,
watched Pearl being led away by Lister and the nursing sister. The rest of the passengers obviously thought she was going along to the sick bay. She walked proudly, head high, but did not look right or left.

It was an hour since the “rescue”.

Mannering watched as Thomas and some of his Committee men began to climb up the rope towards the side door. As each man disappeared to safety there was a ragged cheer. Mannering went along to B Deck, and met Thomas as he came up the gangway from the deck below.

The midnight heat had already dried Thomas's clothes and hair.

“All okay,” he said cheerfully. “Three of my Committee've taken over the yacht – it's Egyptian, not South African. Kassim owns it. They'll get the yacht to Aden. The crew's amenable, mostly Arabs with a couple of white officers. I gather they think they've been running drugs or arms. Do you know which?”

Mannering said: “Neither, this time – I don't know what they do at others.”

As he spoke an officer came up, saluted smartly, and said: “Captain Cross's compliments, gentlemen, and he would like to see you both in his cabin.”

“Now we're in for the big stick,” Thomas said.

In fact, Cross was relaxed and mild-mannered. He had whisky and gin handy, but no steward to wait on them.

He poured out.

“I must say, gentlemen, that you both dice very readily with death in these shark-infested waters. I presume you knew the risks?”

“There wasn't time for any risks,” disclaimed Thomas. “Was there, John? As soon as I saw Pearl Toji go in and John follow I realised what was on – it was a phoney illness, and that yacht was up to no good. Strictly speaking what I did when taking it over was an act of piracy. Eh, Skipper?”

Cross laughed.

“Don't ask me to get you out of your mess,” he said. “But I'm damned glad you took the law into your own hands. I wouldn't like to have decided what to do if you hadn't. It's no part of my job to get involved in that kind of caper.”

“Do we know what really happened?” asked Thomas.

“So far as tonight's business is concerned, yes,” answered Cross. “I've talked to the man who brought the sick member of the crew over.”

“
Is
he sick?” asked Thomas.

“No. They pumped morphine into him, not penicillin. He'll be all right. It was simply a trick to get the jewels on board the motor-boat, and to take the girl off. It nearly worked, too. What made you realise it was a fake, Mannering?”

“Call it luck,” Mannering said. “I saw a man dropping shuffleboard discs into the motor-boat, and that seemed a bit odd. It dawned on me that the jewels we were looking for could be hidden in fake discs.” He looked at the six which were laid out on a small table. “Are they, sir?”

“We've examined one,” Cross answered. “It contained two diamonds and two emeralds, wrapped in cotton wool, packed as safely as you could want.”

“What jewels are they?” Thomas demanded. “Don't try my patience too far or I'll get my Committee to take this ship over, too.”

“That will be the day,” said Cross. “Like to explain, Mr. Mannering?”

Mannering smiled: “He's earned it.” He told the story as simply as he could. When he had finished, Thomas said almost sadly: “I could have sworn it was a drug racket.”

“Never satisfied, some people,” Cross remarked. “The prisoner knows the situation, Mannering. He says that Akbar Kassim has often handled stolen jewels – he's acted as a kind of half-way house between East and West. O'Keefe's always been a small-time drug trafficker working with Kassim. This time O'Keefe carried a bit of ready cash with him, as always, and then realised that Mrs. Ransom was after him. He went to Kassim for protection, and discovered that the Thai girl was working with Kassim. He tried to blackmail Kassim. We don't need any more telling why he was killed. Kassim wanted you dead, too – but on the ship at sea, not at Port Said, where he would be involved. And Pearl, whoever she is, thought you'd seen the truth about her, John – that was another reason why you were on the assassination list.”

Mannering said: “I was beginning to suspect Pearl before we reached Port Said. I must have given myself away. Has she talked?”

“She won't say a word,” Cross told him. “But the man who dropped those discs over the side has. He is a man named Smith, an associate of the dealer, James Harding. Harding himself was first approached by the Thai girl who called herself Pearl Toji. She had word that Nikko Toji was bringing the jewels to you, Mannering – and something else.”

“What else?” demanded Mannering, tensely.

Cross said: “Care to open those discs, Mannering?”

Mannering hesitated, then stood up and went to them. He picked up one and the top half came off easily; this was the one which Cross had already opened. A diamond winked at him from its bed of cotton wool. He picked up another, felt it, tried to prise it open, and then pressed all round the edges. Suddenly there was a sharp click; after that the top of the disc came off easily.

There were rubies and emeralds there.

In two others there were jewels, too. Mannering put them all aside, acutely aware of Thomas's interest and Cross's watching eyes.

In the fifth disc there were smaller jewels and a small cylinder which contained a roll of paper. Mannering unrolled it, and saw the wording and realised almost at once what this meant.

“It's a detailed list of directions where to find the rest of the Crown Jewels of Sumi,” Mannering said, very softly. “The hiding place of two million pounds' worth of precious stones. I wish I knew just what Nikko Toji had in mind.”

“You should know at Aden,” Cross said. “I've just had word that his real daughter arrived there by air from Bangkok.”

 

“I would never have believed she was a criminal,” young Joslyn said miserably. “I can really believe it now.”

“Why did you follow her last night?” asked Mannering.

“Somehow I had to. I always had to,” Joslyn said. It was almost pathetic.

 

“John,” said Naomi, “I wouldn't have taken your money. I threatened blackmail just to make sure you were the man of your reputation.”

“Did the
Globe
ask you to take up the story after Dottie Mills?” inquired Mannering.

“Yes,” said Naomi. She was cooler and much more herself. “You'll get such a build up, John.”

“I'm not sure I want one,” Mannering said.

Naomi laughed. “I'll let you off if you answer one question.”

“What is it?”

“Who
is
the woman who called herself Pearl Toji?”

“That's what I'm going to find out,” Mannering said.

 

Lorna was standing in the launch which approached the
East Africa Star
from Aden. It was dusk. A heat haze gathered over the volcanic hills, almost like a threat of an eruption tomorrow. Several big freighters were at anchor, and a dozen small craft and lighters moved in all directions at once, it seemed.

Lorna waved.

Mannering felt a wave of emotion such as he had not experienced for a long time. The soft light gentled Lorna and yet could not dull the eagerness in her eyes. She waved only once, then stood quite still. The launch drew alongside. Behind Lorna was a much smaller woman, obviously from the East.

Two men came up the gangway. A third helped Lorna on to the bottom of it. She stepped on the platform and started up the stairs. As she came, it dawned on Mannering that he was looking at her as if she was the only woman in the world. She wore a sleeveless, tailored dress, light green in colour, but no hat. She stepped inside the doorway on to the ship.

Mannering said huskily: “Hallo, my sweet.”

“John,” Lorna said. “I had to come.”

“You'd have heard from me if you'd stayed away,” Mannering said.

He hugged her close, and he could feel her heart thumping. Then he forced himself to let her go and to stand back. Lorna turned as the Oriental woman came aboard.

“This is the real Pearl Toji,” Lorna said.

The Thai girl was not lovely as the impostor had been, yet in her way attractive with her broad face and delicate, unblemished skin. She smiled gravely and held out her hand.

“I must thank you, Mr. Mannering, for all that you have done,” she said simply. She offered him her hand.

“Miss Toji,” Mannering said, “can you answer me one question before we go into details?”

“I will try.”

“Is the woman who impersonated you Prince Asri's wife, Kana?”

The real Pearl Toji said: “Yes, Mr. Mannering. She wanted the jewels for their value, she did not share her husband's opinions. In one way it is good, for now he will have to divorce her. He will be able to serve his country better that way.”

 

“I realise what else you need to know, Mr. Mannering,” Pearl said. “It is really very simple. My father was asked to sell these jewels for the best possible price, for the Government of Sumi. The country needs funds so very much. My father believed you would be most likely to find the best market. But he could not bring everything with him. The risk was too great. So he brought the mask, and in one of the settings was all that you found – details of the place where all the other jewels can be found. Only my father and the Sumi Government knew. But my father told me what he was planning and where he had hidden the secret. Also, he told Princess Kana, believing he could trust her.”

“So she was in at the beginning,” Mannering said heavily.

“Yes, that is so. We know now that she tried to find someone else to handle the jewels – James Harding. Harding arranged for his associate to meet Toji at the airport, but it was Kassim – whom Harding had to use – who planned everything after what happened in London. Kassim – and Princess Kana.”

“Did she know about the poisoning?” Mannering asked.

“I do not know. I am only sure that Kassim did. Once Kassim took control, no one else greatly mattered. But for you,” she added, “I think the plot would have succeeded. For the other jewels are still in the possession of Prince Asri. He would have surrendered them to anyone who took him the jewels from the mask.

“I thank you for the memory of my father, who can rest in peace. I thank you for myself. And I thank you in the name of Prince Asri and the people of Sumi.”

 

Mannering said to Lorna: “I don't think I've ever known anyone more touching.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Lorna said.

They stood at Aden airport and saw the great aircraft take off to the East, with Pearl Toji aboard. An official of the Aden Police was with them, and as they turned away, he said: “Very satisfactory outcome for you, Mr. Mannering, and for that young woman.”

“Very,” Mannering said – and thought of Nikko Toji dying.

“I've sorted out the mess where the others are concerned,” the police official went on. “The woman who posed as Pearl Toji and the man Smith are to fly back to England – their crimes were committed aboard the
East Africa Star
, and will be tried in England. The people from the yacht are Egyptians but I've had agreement from Egypt to try them here in Aden for piracy on the high seas. They'll get what they deserve, be sure of that. Egypt will deal with Kassim.”

“I'm sure,” Mannering said.

“Now, how about a little sightseeing before your plane leaves …”

“What I would like to do is talk to Captain Cross by radio-telephone,” Mannering said.

“That's no trouble,” the official assured him. “The
East Africa Star
will be about twelve hours out of Mombasa. Come back to my office and I'll fix it.”

There were other things he had “fixed”. He was able to tell Mannering that Smith had talked freely, blaming the man whom Kassim had sent – the man who had died at Gibraltar – for the poisoning. He had telephoned Lorna in the first place, when he had felt it was too late for Mannering to help. He had even gained more time by pretending that Toji had said “Mrs” not “Mister” Mannering.

Smith had sent the threatening notes on board, too – the one to Pearl to make her look a victim.

“The master of the yacht is the man who acted as Kassim's bodyguard,” the police chief had said. “Kassim was terrified of serious trouble at Port Said. He hoped you would be scared off by the danger to the woman you thought was Pearl Toji. Then Thomas – damned good chap, Thomas – put the fear of Allah and Nasser into him, too.”

“I don't really understand how Kassim took such an important part,” Mannering said.

“He's been a kind of clearing house for anything stolen for years – arch-smuggler between East and West. He'd often worked with Jimmy Harding. Harding realised he couldn't handle this on his own, and Kassim flew an agent to London ahead of Toji. Harding committed suicide, by the way. Well! I must fix that call to the
East Africa Star.
”

 

“Hallo, Mannering,” Cross said in that familiar matter-of-fact voice. “Nice of you to call me. What's happened?”

He listened. “Well, well,” he said at last. “What a story! I'm glad it ended at Aden, mind you. Had a very peaceful trip since we got rid of you. Young Joslyn's found another girlfriend. Thomas prowls around looking for trouble he knows he won't get. Not in the way he's hoping, anyhow.”

“What trouble will he get?” asked Mannering.

Cross laughed.

“He and Naomi Ransom spend a lot of time together. I wouldn't be too surprised if they're serious. Nice couple. Might work out very well.”

Mannering had that feeling too.