A Hundred Thousand Dragons (30 page)

‘Half a mo. Let me copy it out first,' said Jack. ‘I want to keep it amongst my souvenirs. Aunt Alice and I are going out for dinner, Bill. Do you want to join us?'

‘I'd rather get on to the Chief,' said Rackham. ‘Thanks, though.'

They parted at the door, Rackham to Scotland Yard and Jack and Lady Rivers to dine on the balcony at Romano's on the Strand. After dinner, he escorted her to Waterloo Station and saw her on to the train home.

As her train pulled out of the station, his good mood evaporated. He'd known how fragile it had been. Nothing, he thought, as he let himself back into his rooms, seemed to add up to anything very much. Yes, they knew how Vaughan had done it. Yes, they'd cracked Von Erlangen's code.

So now what? he asked himself as he mixed a whisky and soda. Perhaps the Assistant Commissioner would be able to pull the right strings. Maybe Von Erlangen would be arrested. It was far more likely, thought Jack bleakly as he lit a cigarette, that Von Erlangen would escape. And Freya? His stomach twisted at the thought.

He put down his glass as he heard footsteps on the stairs and stood up to answer the caller's knock. He wasn't expecting anyone.

Bill Rackham came into the room. ‘I'm sorry to have to tell you this,' he said, taking off his hat and cutting Jack's greeting short. ‘A cable's arrived at the Yard. I'm sorry, Jack. Freya Von Erlangen is dead.'

FIFTEEN

‘
D
ead?' Jack echoed the word blankly.

Rackham nodded. ‘She was found in a trunk in Aden. There was another body, too, the body of a man. At a guess, he's Gilbert Faraday, the missing driver we've been looking for. I'll swear the manager at the Balmoral knew something was wrong, even if he didn't know it was murder. I'm looking forward to asking him a few questions.' As succinctly as he could, Rackham related Cynthia Coire's gruesome discovery. ‘What I think happened is that Von Erlangen killed her, put her in his trunk and, once he was on board ship, got down into the hold and swapped the labels on his trunk with the labels on Mrs Coire's. It was a new trunk and she didn't notice anything wrong until it was unpacked.'

Jack sat down slowly, numbed by the sick taste of grief. ‘She was killed because of me,' he said, more to himself than Bill. ‘That night he attacked me, Freya saved me from being knifed. He'd never forgive her for that.' Sudden anger flared. ‘If only I'd worked out the truth sooner! I talked about Craig, for God's sake! If I'd had the truth, the real truth, if I'd had the sense to realize Von Erlangen was alive, she'd have trusted me. I told her I could help and yet, with every word I said, it was obvious I couldn't.'

‘Easy does it, Jack,' said Rackham uncomfortably. ‘If she had told you the truth, you would have helped her.'

‘Oh yes?' Jack's voice was savage. ‘I talked about her being an accessory to
murder
. It's not reassuring, is it? She didn't even know her precious husband murdered the American guard. That's the bitter irony of it.'

‘She must have known Craig had been murdered though.' Rackham's voice was measured. ‘And there's this poor young devil, Gilbert Faraday. She must have known about him. And if she'd told us, we could have stopped Von Erlangen there and then.'

Jack started to speak, then stopped, covering his hand with his mouth. ‘You're right, damn it,' he said dully. ‘Of course you are. Yes, she could have turned to us. To me. I wish she had, but she wasn't a free agent. Can you imagine her state of mind? She must have felt like a rabbit trapped by a stoat.'

‘She had a choice, Jack.'

‘Technically, yes. Really? I don't know.' He got up and walked to the window, staring sightlessly at the plane tree in the yard. ‘What's the Assistant Commissioner going to do?' he asked after a time.

‘He's contacting the Transjordanian Police. We discussed what Von Erlangen was likely to do but I hadn't realized the distances involved. I knew Petra was off the beaten track, but I hadn't realized just how far it is from anywhere else. What'll probably happen is that the police will try and nab Von Erlangen on his way back. He's got to return to civilization and there are only so many places he can go. That way, as the Chief pointed out, the local police will recover the gold – if it's there – and get him as well.'

‘He'll escape,' said Jack flatly. Rackham said nothing but shifted awkwardly. Jack swung round to face him. ‘You agree, don't you? You know who we're up against. It's not dawned on anyone else yet. He knows Arabia, Bill. There'll be a hundred and one ways he can vanish and we won't be any the wiser.' He took a deep breath. ‘There's only one thing for it. I'm going to get him.'

‘
What?
' Rackham looked thunderstruck.

‘I'm a reserve officer in the RAF,' said Jack coolly. ‘I've a perfect right to arrest him. You agree, don't you?'

‘Of course I do, you idiot, but you can't charge off into the back of beyond. Apart from anything else, how will you get there? It takes twelve days or something like it to get to Port Said and that's only the start. It's over a week's journey after that, as far as I can make out, and I don't suppose there's a fleet of buses waiting. It'll take you forever to arrange transport and God knows how much it'll cost. That's why Von Erlangen needed Vaughan in the first place. He knew you couldn't stroll out there. It's a crazy idea, Jack.'

‘There are quicker ways to Port Said than sailing round the Bay of Biscay.'

Rackham made an impatient gesture. ‘So what? You've still got to get across the Med and into the desert. By the time you turn up, he'll have long gone.'

‘I'm not so sure. It'll take him time, Bill, lots of time. He'll have to organize a boat to Aquaba and transport from there, or some sort of convoy across the desert. With any luck, I'll get there before him.'

‘But
how
?' demanded Rackham.

‘Fly, of course. How else?'

Rackham gaped at him. ‘For God's sake, there aren't any flights to Petra.'

‘I'll buy a plane.'

Rackham looked at him incredulously.

‘Why not?' asked Jack. ‘There's plenty of second-hand machines around. Only the other day one of the men at the club asked if I knew anyone who wants an old air-taxi. He's asking eight hundred quid for it but I should be able to beat him down. That should do the job.' His face was grim. ‘I've got to do this, Bill. You see that, don't you? Don't worry. I'm not going off the deep end. I'll get all the correct documents and carnets and the rest of the paperwork I need.'

‘Never mind the ruddy paperwork. That's the least of your problems. Say you do fly out there. What then?'

‘That,' said Jack quietly, ‘is something I'll decide when I arrive.' His mouth curved into a humourless smile. ‘He won't be expecting me, that's for sure. And don't worry, I won't be working alone. I can call on RAF Kantara if need be, but I'm going and I'm going just as fast as I can. He shouldn't have harmed Freya.'

Arthur Stanton leaned contentedly over the balcony of his cabin, watching the last streaks of the setting sun dip into the Mediterranean. The deep blue of the sea looped round the dazzling white stonework of Valletta harbour made a stunning view. He turned his head and called into the cabin. ‘Come and look at the sunset, Isabelle. It's marvellous.'

‘I'll be with you in a minute,' said a muffled voice from behind the bathroom door.

Arthur grinned and felt in his pocket for his pipe and matches. He had never been so happy. They had docked in the Grand Harbour, Malta, that morning and spent the day exploring the wide, steep streets and the cool cathedral of the old city. The nightmares that had plagued him since the war had been completely routed and now there was a trip ashore with dinner under the velvet-blue Mediterranean night to look forward to. And Isabelle . . . A deep contentment washed over him. Life was good, all good.

Isabelle, dressed in crisp green and white linen, came out of the bathroom. A knock sounded on the cabin door. ‘It'll be the steward,' she said knowledgeably and went to open it. Arthur swung round as he heard her astonished gasp. ‘Jack!'

Jack?
And there, incredibly, was Jack. Arthur swallowed a mouthful of tobacco smoke the wrong way and nearly choked.

‘I'm sorry to butt in like this, but I saw the ships in the harbour as I flew over,' said Jack bewilderingly, strolling into the cabin as if it were the most natural thing in the world. ‘I wondered if one was yours, and it was, so here I am.'

‘You'll have to tell us a bit more than that,' said Isabelle. She had her hand on his arm, as if reassuring herself he was real. ‘What on earth are you doing here?'

They sat down, listening intently as Jack told them. ‘Bill Rackham thought I was nuts,' he concluded, ‘but I have to try. You see that, don't you? I bought Skip Roscoe's – you remember Skip, Isabelle? – old D.H.9. He used it as an air-taxi for a time. It's not terribly fast but it's sturdy enough.' He gave a small smile. ‘He wanted eight hundred for it but I beat him down a bit.'

‘Eight hundred?' repeated Isabelle in disbelief. ‘Jack, that must be all the money you've got.'

He shrugged. ‘More or less. So what? If I manage to recover even some of the gold, the government ought to be grateful enough to cough up some of it.'

‘Never mind the government,' said Arthur. ‘What about you? What do you plan to do next?'

‘I thought I'd spend the night here and push on to RAF Kantara in the morning. With any luck I'll be in this lost city by tomorrow evening.'

‘What about the police, Jack?' asked Arthur. ‘The local police, I mean. Do they know what you're doing?'

‘They know,' replied Jack. ‘They know because Bill told them. To be honest, I'd hoped they'd offer some assistance. That's certainly what Bill wanted, but they weren't pleased about me sticking my nose in. They can't stop me, of course, as I've a perfect right to go wherever I please, but they'd rather handle the matter themselves. The gold's the sticking point. If it really is there, they don't want me collaring it.' He laughed. ‘I don't think they realize how much we're talking about. It weighs a ton.'

‘A ton?' asked Isabelle. ‘A ton of
gold
?'

‘Well, not a ton exactly, but a dickens of a lot. I worked out that one hundred thousand sovereigns weighs in at just over at one thousand, six hundred and five pounds. That's over half a ton. I can't stick that in my pocket.'

Arthur chewed on his pipe stem for a little while. ‘You could stick some of it, though. I can see why they're leery. It's awkward. What about the RAF? Presumably, as you're headed for Kantara, they're involved.'

‘To some extent, yes,' agreed Jack. ‘The CO is a bloke called Masterson. I don't know him, but he's a friend of Canning, whom I knew in France. Masterson's offered refuelling, fitting and rigging facilities, but that's as far as he can commit himself. He said he'd help as much as he can, so I'll have to be content with that.'

‘I see,' said Arthur. ‘So, not to put too fine a point on it, you could be tackling Von Erlangen on your own?' There was a dead silence. Arthur waited for a few moments, apparently intent on the glowing tobacco in the bowl of his pipe. ‘What were you intending to do if you do find him?'

‘Arrest him, of course,' said Jack quickly. Arthur raised his eyebrows quizzically. That answer had been too glib.

Jack sensed his disbelief and hurried into speech. ‘What did you expect me to say? If the RAF are there, well and good. If not, I'll hold him prisoner until they arrive. I was going to talk to Masterson about it tomorrow.'

‘And if it comes to shooting? I mean, you are armed, aren't you?'

‘Oh course I am,' said Jack impatiently. ‘You don't think I'd tackle a swine like that without a weapon, do you? I'm not setting out to murder him, Arthur. I'm going to give him the chance to come quietly. It won't be my fault if he doesn't.'

‘I thought that was the size of it,' said Arthur quietly.

Jack slumped. He looked, thought Isabelle with a sudden twist of fear, beaten already.

‘What the devil
can
I do? He's bound to be carrying a gun and he won't be squeamish about using it.'

Arthur looked at him acutely. He'd seen that defeated look as well. ‘Which you will be. He's a killer. You're not. He'll have you for toast, Jack.'

Jack dropped his gaze. ‘I have to try.'

Isabelle looked at her husband. ‘Arthur?' she asked quietly.

Arthur nodded in understanding. ‘Yes. Yes, I think we better had.'

Isabelle turned to face her cousin. ‘We're coming with you.'

Jack's chin came up. ‘Oh no, you're not. That's a stupid idea.'

‘There's room in the aircraft for us, isn't there? I mean, if it was an air-taxi, there must be.'

‘Yes, it's got a cabin,' he said absently. ‘That's not a problem.'

‘Then why?'

‘It's
dangerous
, Belle.' He looked to Arthur for support. ‘Von Erlangen's bad enough, but Vaughan could be there as well and there'll be workmen, too.'

‘The workmen probably won't want to get mixed up in violence,' said Arthur. ‘After all, the authorities know where you're going, so they'll have to account for themselves if you don't come back. And if, by any chance, it's Von Erlangen who doesn't come back . . . Well, you've still got a problem.'