Read Vulture is a Patient Bird Online
Authors: James Hadley Chase
Vulture is a Patient Bird (21 page)
Fennel gave him an evil look, then turned away. Seeing the mood he was in, Gaye watched him, but didn't speak.
"Where's the lift?" Fennel asked. "This job could take me three or four hours."
Garry turned to Gaye.
"You'd better stay here if it's going to take that long." She nodded.
"All right."
"How about the TV snoopers?" Fennel asked.
"They're there in the museum, but I've no idea where the monitor-room is or if anyone keeps watch at night."
Fennel flushed with rage.
"Your job was to find out!" he snarled.
Garry went to the door, opened it and beckoned to Fennel.
"Take a look . . . there are about thirty-five doors down that corridor. It could be behind any one of them. We can't walk in and check. Did you see any Zulus as you came through the garden?"
"No. What's that to do with it?"
"The chances are if they aren't patrolling the grounds, they don't keep watch at night on the TV monitor."
"If they do, we're sunk."
"There it is. Have you any ideas how we can check?"
Fennel thought, then shrugged.
"It could be anywhere . . . could be in one of the huts away from the house." He hesitated. "It's taking a hell of a chance."
"We either take the chance or we leave without the ring."
"Will you take the chance?" Fennel demanded.
"Sure, if you will."
"Then let's go."
They moved silently into the corridor, leaving Gaye still sitting on the bed. A few minutes later, they were descending in the lift. When they reached the vaulted chamber, Garry pointed to the TV lens in the ceiling.
"There it is."
Fennel moved under the lens and peered at it. Then he sucked in a deep breath.
"It's not operating."
"Sure?"
"Yeah."
Garry wiped his sweating hands on the seats of his shorts.
"There's the door to the museum. Do you want me to do anything?"
Fennel went to the door and examined the dial and the lock.
"No . . . just leave it to me. It's going to take time, but I can get it open." He opened his tool kit and laid out a selection of tools on the floor. Garry went over to a high-backed leather chair and sat down. He lit a cigarette and tried to contain his impatience.
Fennel worked carefully, whistling softly under his breath. His body concealed what he was doing, and after a while, Garry got bored watching his broad back, and getting up, he began to pace up and down. He smoked one cigarette after another and continually looked at his watch. After an hour had dragged by, he paused in his pacing to ask. "How's it coming?"
"I've neutralized the time switch," Fennel said, sitting back on his heels and wiping his forehead with his arm. "That's the worst part of the job behind us. Now, I've got to tackle the lock itself."
Garry sat down and waited.
Another hour dragged by, then Fennel gave a little grunt.
"I've done it!" he exclaimed.
Garry joined him at the door.
"Quicker than you thought."
"Just luck. I've been five hours on one of these goddamn locks before now." He stood up and pulled the door open. "Do you know where the ring is?"
"I'll take you to it."
Fennel hastily repacked his tool bag and together the two men moved into the picture gallery. Going ahead, Garry entered the second room and made for the lighted alcove. Then he paused, experiencing a sense of shock. The pedestal was there, but the glass box and the ring were missing.
"What is it?" Fennel demanded.
"It's gone!" Garry licked his dry lips. "That's where it was . . . it's gone! I thought . . ."
He stopped short as he saw Fennel, his face twitching, was staring at the wide archway from which they had come into this room from the picture gallery.
Standing in the archway, wearing only leopard skins, were four giant Zulus, each holding a broad-bladed stabbing spear, their cruel, fierce black eyes fixed on the two startled men.
One of them said in guttural English. "You come with us."
"What they call a fair cop," Garry said and moved towards the Zulus.
Fennel hesitated, but he knew they hadn't a chance against these four giants. Cursing softly, he picked up his tool bag and moved after Garry.
As the minutes crawled by, Gaye became more and more uneasy and restless. She prowled around the luxurious lounge wondering how Fennel was getting on. It was now nearly two hours since they had left the lounge. She kept telling herself Fennel had said it might be a four hour job. She wished now she had gone with them. This long wait was getting on her nerves.
Then she heard a gentle tap on the door. Thinking it was Garry, she hastened across the lounge and opened the door. She was confronted by a Zulu who towered above her, the overhead light making his black skin glisten and the blade of his assigai flash.
She stifled a scream and stepped hurriedly back, her hand going to her mouth. The Zulu glared at her, his eyes like wet stones.
"You come with me," he growled and *stepped aside.
"What do you want?" Gaye asked, her voice husky with shock.
"The Master wants you . . . come!"
She hesitated. So Garry had been right after all, she thought, they had walked into a trap. By now she was recovering from her shock. There was nothing else to do but to obey, and lifting her head high, she walked out into the corridor.
The Zulu pointed to the double doors at the far end of the corridor with his assigai.
She knew it was useless to try to escape so she walked down the corridor, followed by the Zulu.
When she finally reached the double doors, they swung open automatically. Without looking at the Zulu, she walked into Kahlenberg's office, her heart thumping and her mouth dry.
At the far end of the vast room, Kahlenberg was sitting at his desk, a cigarette between his fingers, Hindenburg at his side.
"Ah, Miss Desmond," he said, looking up. "Please come and join me. I am watching something of great interest."
As she moved around the desk, she saw the small TV set was on. Kahlenberg waved to a chair near his, away from Hindenburg who hadn't taken his eyes off her since she had entered the room.
"Sit down and look at this."
She sat down, folding her hands in her lap and looked at the lighted screen. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Fennel kneeling in front of the door leading to the museum.
"I believe he is actually defeating my beautiful lock," Kahllenberg said. "The makers assured me no one could do it."
Fennel suddenly sat back on his heels.
"I've done it!" he exclaimed. His voice, slightly muffled, came through the speaker well enough.
Then Garry moved into the picture.
"Your friend is clever," Kahlenberg said. Although he spoke mildly, his eyes glittered angrily. "I didn't believe he could do it, but as you see, he has done it."
Gaye said nothing.
"Usually, we immobilize the lift," Kahlenberg went on, leaning back in his chair, his eyes still on the screen. "But I was interested to see if this expert could break in. I will have to talk seriously with the makers. This won't do at all."
They watched Fennel and Garry enter the museum. The picture changed to another angle as Kahlenberg reached forward and pressed a button on the set.
"I didn't want to alarm your friends so I didn't operate this set until they were satisfied it wasn't operating," Kahlenberg went on. Now I fear they are in for a disappointment and a surprise."
The picture showed the two men staring at the pedestal in the lighted alcove.
Gaye heard Fennel say, "What is it?"
Leaning forward, Kahlenberg turned off the set.
"They will be here in a few minutes, Miss Desmond," he said. He reached for a gold cigarette box and offered it. "A cigarette?"
"Thank you." Gaye took a cigarette and accepted a light. "By the way, how is Mr. Shalik?"
If he had expected to startle her, he was disappointed. Her face was expressionless as she said, "Last time I saw him, he seemed very well."
"He continues to concoct his miserable little swindles?"
"I really don't know. He always seems to be busy, but just what he does I have no idea."
"It is time he was stopped for good." The flash of fire in Kahlenberg's eyes made her remember that Garry had thought this man was unbalanced. "He is developing into a nuisance."
"Do you think so? I should have thought he is no more of a nuisance than others," Gaye said coolly. "After all, Mr. Kahlenberg, surely you are birds of a feather?"
Kahlenberg's eyes narrowed slightly.
"What makes you say that, Miss Desmond?"
"Mr. Tak tells me everything in your museum is an original. I don't imagine the authorities of Florence would have sold you the Ghiberti panel or the Bernini David. I do know you stole the Borgia ring. Surely you are just as much a nuisance to the curators of various museums as Mr. Shalik is to you."
Kahlenberg smiled.
"Yes, I admit everything in my museum has been stolen, but there is a reason. I appreciate beautiful things. I need beauty. I am too busy to visit Europe so I prefer to have my beauty here where I can see it when I have the inclination. But Shalik only plots for money, not beauty. He lives for money as I live for beauty. I intend to stop him."
"Perhaps he needs the money," Gaye said. "You have more than enough. Perhaps you would be like Mr. Shalik if you had no money."
Kahlenberg crushed out his cigarette. She could see he was controlling his temper only with an effort.
"You are a spirited woman, Miss Desmond. I am sure Mr. Shalik would be flattered to hear you defending him."
"I am not defending him. I am just saying I see no difference between you and him," Gaye said quietly.
At this moment the double doors swung open and Garry and Fennel walked in.
The four Zulus paused in the doorway, looking towards
Kahlenberg who dismissed them with a wave of his hand. They stepped back and the doors closed.
"Come in, gentlemen and sit down," Kahlenberg said, waving to chairs opposite his desk. "As you see, Miss Desmond has already joined me."
Garry went to a chair and folded himself down into it, but Fennel remained standing, glaring at Kahlenberg.
"Please sit down, Mr. Fennel," Kahlenberg said quietly. "Let me congratulate you. I didn't believe it was possible for anyone to open the door to my museum and yet you have done it. It is an achievement."
"You can cut out the soft soap!" Fennel snarled. We came for the ring and we haven't got it so now we're getting the hell out of here and you're not stopping us!"
"Certainly you shall leave," Kahlenberg said, "but we have something to discuss first."
"I'm not discussing anything with you!" Fennel snapped. He was livid with rage and disappointment. He looked at Gaye and Garry. "Come on . . . he daren't stop us." And he started towards the door, grabbed the handle but found the door locked. He spun around, glaring at Kahlenberg. "Open this door or I'll break your goddamn neck!"
Kahlenberg raised his eyebrows.
"That could be dangerous for you, Mr. Fennel," he said and made a soft clicking sound with his tongue against his teeth. Immediately, Hindenburg stood up and began to move slowly forward, his eyes on Fennel, his lips off his teeth in a ferocious snarl that made Fennel back away. "I assure you," Kahlenberg went on, "my pet would tear you to pieces if I give him another signal. Sit down!"
Cowed by the cheetah, Fennel sat down abruptly by Garry. "Thank you," Kahlenberg said, then went on, "I don't want the effort you three have made to get the Borgia ring to be wasted. As Miss Desmond has rightly pointed out, the ring doesn't legally belong to me. Since you all have shown so much initiative in getting as far as you have, I have decided to give you the ring on certain conditions." He opened the drawer in his desk and took out the glass box, containing the ring. He placed the box on his desk where the three could see it.
Fennel glared at the ring and then looked at Garry.
"Is that it?" and when Garry nodded, Fennel turned to Kahlenberg. "What do you mean . . . conditions?"
Kahlenberg addressed himself to Gaye.
"Miss Desmond, although I live in considerable luxury, although I am an exceedingly busy man, there are times when I get very bored with myself. As you see, I am a cripple. I am chained to this chair. One of my ambitions when young was to be a hunter. Nothing would have given me more satisfaction than to go on safari. But being a cripple, this has been impossible and I admit to a certain frustration. Any form of frustration to a man of my power and wealth is intolerable."
"What the hell is this?" Fennel demanded impatiently. "What are these conditions you are talking about?"
Kahlenberg ignored him.
"Here is the Borgia ring." He picked up the glass box and handed it to Gaye. "I understand each of you will be paid nine thousand dollars when you hand the ring to Shalik." He smiled bleakly. "You see, I have an excellent spy system. Nine thousand dollars to you is important money and naturally it will give you incentive to deliver the ring to Shalik."
"You mean you are giving us the ring?" Fennel demanded.
"Miss Desmond already has it. I am now going to give you a further incentive . . . a much more important one . . . to deliver the ring to Shalik. But in spite of these two incentives, you still have to get the ring out of my estate."
"So that's it," Fennel's eyes narrowed. "Your savages are going to stop us . . . is that it?"
"If they can they will. I am going to arrange a hunt. You three and Mr. Jones who is waiting for you will be the hunted and my Zulus will be the hunters. You must regard it as exciting a game as I shall. You will have a reasonable chance to escape the hunters because I am going to give you a three hour start. You will leave here at 04.00 hrs. when it will be light enough for you to make good speed and you will need good speed. At 07.00 hrs. my Zulus will come after you. It will be entirely up to your speed and ingenuity to avoid them."
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