The Deadly Curse (8 page)

The
significance of Sarah’s comments was clear, and I could see from the expressions upon my friends’ faces that they, too, had come to the same conclusion as I. There was surely some connection between the brutal evisceration of Signor Fosco Peretti and the mysterious appearance of the canopic jars in his drawing room, containing the insides of another corpse, albeit one that had died more than three thousand years earlier, and – one hoped –
before
the removal of his or her internal organs.

‘These
are evidently very deep waters,’ Van Helsing said. ‘Although I dare say Inspector Delland will have convinced himself of a rational explanation. We can at any rate report back to him what Miss Wilton has discovered.’

Mina
held up her hand. ‘Wait. Are we not forgetting something? What of the inscription?’

Van
Helsing snorted in annoyance. ‘Of course. My apologies, Miss Wilton. Perhaps my advancing years are finally taking their toll. We also require your opinion regarding the curious symbols which appear on the
inside
of the canopic jars.’

Sarah
looked puzzled. ‘Inside?’ she said, and picked up a fragment. ‘I, too, missed this in my earlier examination, so I think we can acquit you from the charge of senility, Professor. This is really most unusual. These symbols are Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs – a form of picture writing. Thanks to the work of Champollion, Uhlemann and other scholars, they are now readily translatable, although the process might take me some time.’

‘But
how on earth could the writing have been inscribed on the inside of the jars?’ Mina asked. ‘There would not have been room to guide a stylus through the opening.’

‘That
is where the creator of these unique vessels has been most ingenious,’ Sarah replied with a smile. ‘Canopic jars are normally made on a potter’s wheel – a device that has hardly changed for millennia. However, these two jars – most unusually – were constructed in a different manner.’

She
lifted up one of the larger pieces and held it up to the light. ‘Do you see the slightly raised seam which runs from top to bottom of this side of the vessel? That shows that it is what ceramicists call a “slab pot”. Such containers are usually square shaped, but a skilled potter can produce a rounded version. They are made from a thin sheet – or sheets – of clay, which are then rolled up or stuck together to make the final shape.’

I
clapped my hands. ‘I see! So the hieroglyphic writing could have been scratched onto the clay before it was rolled together – to appear on the inside of the final product. How ingenious.’

‘And
how extraordinary,’ Van Helsing interjected. ‘To take an inordinate amount of time and trouble to record a message that will probably never be read. Tell me, Miss Wilton, how long will it take you to prepare your translation?’

‘Let
me see. I may have to further dismantle the pots in order to do so, but they are so badly damaged already I think that we can permit such vandalism. I have no lectures to deliver on Friday – shall we say tomorrow evening, at six? Perhaps it would be best if I came here, Professor; we are likely to have more privacy than at my house in Endsleigh Street. Meanwhile I suggest you communicate with Inspector Delland and inform him of the provenance of the jars. I propose you say nothing regarding the hieroglyphs as yet, other than that I am subjecting the fragments to further examination.’

Chapter
6

The following morning we sent Van Helsing’s butler to Scotland Yard with a note for the Detective Inspector giving him Sarah’s preliminary findings concerning the jars, and stating that she might have more to tell him after further examination of the shards. There seemed little else that we could do until our appointment with Sarah Wilton that evening, and after breakfast I suggested to Mina that she might wish to visit the Impressionist exhibition at the Blatchford Gallery.

As
she concurred with my suggestion I extended the invitation to our host. He declined with a shake of his head.

‘The
paintings are rather too modern for my taste,’ he said. ‘Although I’m sure that Mina will appreciate their subtleties. However, I’m tempted to invest in one or two canvases. I’ve a feeling they may be worth a great deal in years to come.’

‘By
which time you will be unable to enjoy your profits,’ I said with a smile. Then a thought suddenly occurred to me in that unaccountable way that ideas have of appearing when the mind is least occupied in the conscious deliberation of a problem.

‘I’ve
been a fool,’ I said with some annoyance, causing Mina to look up sharply. ‘Your talk of money has made me realise. As Mrs Flinzer has been uncooperative, it may be some time before we can ascertain exactly what items have been sold. However, unless Flinzer was paid in cash – which seems unlikely considering the transactions were legitimate – there may well be a record kept at his
bank
.’

‘Surely
Inspector Delland will already have checked that possibility?’ Mina interjected.

‘Perhaps,
but I think it unlikely,’ I said. ‘He was notably sceptical about the significance of the warning the late Sir Edward Wilton found in the tomb of Karnos II, and will probably not feel that tracing any additional sales is of pressing importance. Remember, he has his own theory: that of a falling-out between thieves. Let me make a suggestion. I recollect that Miss Wilton has mentioned the name of her father’s bank. Now what was it?’

‘Havelocks,’
Van Helsing said. ‘Their office is in Marylebone, not more than two miles from here. Jonathan, if your proposal is that we visit the branch immediately, I concur absolutely. The worst that can happen is that we are told the information has already been given to Inspector Delland. If any more artefacts from the tomb of Karnos
have
been disposed of, it is essential that they are located and retrieved before any further violent retribution is meted out to the unsuspecting purchaser.’

I
had expected Mina to accompany Van Helsing and I to the bank, but she declined, saying that she wished instead to spend some time investigating some other aspects of the puzzling case in which we had become involved. When I asked her to take care she acknowledged my concerns with the understandable insouciance of one who has faced far greater terrors than are likely to be found on a crisp autumn day in central London.

*

Some twenty minutes later Van Helsing and I had passed through the imposing portals of Havelocks Bank and persuaded the reluctant chief clerk to grant us an interview with the manager, Mr Barnabus Buford. We were left to languish in a chilly anteroom for what seemed like hours, although my pocket watch confirmed that only fifteen minutes had passed before yet another immaculately dressed and well-spoken minion ushered us into the manager’s presence. That august personage was seated behind an enormous mahogany desk, our cards arranged neatly in front of him. He had the desiccated appearance of one who could have been any age between fifty-five and seventy, and an expression of poorly concealed annoyance. He waved us ungraciously towards a set of hard-backed chairs in front of him. A small open fire glowed faintly at one end of the office, and the temperature was hardly more comfortable than it had been in the waiting room.

Buford
stared down at our cards. ‘Ahem – Professor Van Helsing – Mr Harker. I usually see no one without an appointment, but in this case’ – he made a great play of consulting a slim gold pocket watch of the best quality – ‘I can allocate you five minutes of my time. Now, how may I help you?’

Van
Helsing glanced towards me and, encouraged by his nod, I began to speak.

‘You
may have heard of the tragic demise of Mr Theodore Flinzer,’ I said. ‘He had his banking account here, and was violently killed at the beginning of this week, on Monday evening. It is possible that his wife has already contacted you.’

The
manager looked a little disconcerted. ‘Dear me!’ he exclaimed in a show of feeling. ‘How unfortunate. I must tell you that I was not aware of the matter. However, that is not unusual since my chief clerk, Higgins, would normally deal with such things. My own involvement in the bank is with the management of our large investments, negotiations of loans to national business concerns, and such like. I can summon Higgins if you wish – but perhaps first you could enlighten me as to your interest in the late gentleman.’

As
succinctly as possible I informed Buford that Flinzer had almost certainly been murdered and that it was of vital importance that any recent sales that he had made could be identified. I explained that due to our current lack of a record held by Flinzer we hoped that Havelocks Bank could examine his account to see if cheques for any large sums had been received in recent weeks.

Buford
dismissed my enquiry with barely disguised distain. ‘Mr Harker, that is entirely out of the question. We could only accede to such a request if it came from the courts or a senior police officer: and even then I would require a warrant. Our duty of confidentiality to our clients does not cease when they are dead.’

Van
Helsing interrupted. ‘Our difficulty, Mr Buford, is that time may be of the essence. Detective Inspector Delland of Scotland Yard is aware of our interest in this case, and I am sure that he would be happy to obtain the necessary warrant, but that might take two days or more and any delay could well be fatal. Come sir, you have our cards: can you not see your way to relaxing your rules on this occasion?’

Buford
shook his head. ‘With respect sir, anyone who can lay his hands on a guinea can have cards printed – including cards of evidently superior manufacture. No, you must return with the warrant, or not at all.’

At
this Barnabus Buford stood up, signalling the end of our interview. However, before he could usher us to the door Van Helsing rose quickly and strode towards him. The Professor has a substantial physique, and this combined with his evident determination caused Buford to step back.

‘If
confirmation of our
bona
fides
is the matter at issue, that is easily resolved,’ Van Helsing said. ‘Let me see – we cannot be more than a mile or so from Eaton Square. I take it that you are cognisant of the position of Sir Anthony Neville-Street?’

I
could see Buford blink in surprise at Van Helsing’s mention of the Home Secretary. Unlike the bank manager, I was aware that the Professor was on familiar terms with some of the most eminent personages in the land, although in normal circumstances he would never boast of it.

‘Sir
Anthony’s habits are notoriously regular,’ Van Helsing said. ‘At this hour on a Friday he is invariably at home. I suggest that the two of us take a hansom to Belgravia, where I am sure he will vouch for me in person. Do you think his character reference would suffice? He could speak to the Bank Directors if necessary.’

Buford
sat down heavily in his chair, a slight sheen of perspiration visible on his pale forehead. ‘Erm – that will not be necessary. I am sure that I can accommodate the request of a friend of the Right Honourable gentleman. Now, what exactly is it that you require to know? I will send for Higgins immediately.’

*

In
a very short time Van Helsing and I had obtained the information we had requested, although it did little to set our minds at rest. Havelocks Bank – whatever the shortcomings of its manager – kept most meticulous records of its customers’ transactions, and three entries in the account of the late Mr Flinzer were obviously relevant to our search. The first was a cheque from the financial director of the Clarendon Institute of Archaeology for six hundred pounds, dated October 10th: clearly the sum that Flinzer had realised from the sale of the coffin of the Pharaoh Karnos II. The second was a payment of one hundred and thirty pounds from Dr Harold Levin, Curator, Edinburgh Museum of Ethnography, dated November 1st. No doubt this was the cheque that Dr Levin had sent for his purchase of the
khopesh
– the item that had never reached him, or had disappeared after its arrival. However, what struck the three of us most forcefully was the record of a cheque recently received from a Dr M Limonov for eighty pounds.

‘Why
– the cheque was dated November 8th, 1887!’ I exclaimed. ‘That’s last Monday – the day before Flinzer was killed. Is it possible that he has disposed of a further item?’

Van
Helsing picked up the leather-bound ledger. ‘Limonov...Limonov...’ he mused. ‘I am sure that name is familiar. Yes, of course! It must surely be Dr Mikhail Limonov, the well-known collector of antiquities. He has a villa in St John’s Wood, not half a mile from my own house. I attended a
soirée
there last summer. We must go there immediately.’

As
we hurried out of Barnabus Buford’s office, I turned to speak with him and his chief clerk.

‘Tell
me, was Mr Theodore Flinzer experiencing any financial difficulties? The balance of his account appears very low for someone of his standing.’

Higgins
looked nervously at his superior, who nodded. ‘There were no difficulties as such, Mr Harker: Mr Flinzer made a healthy income from his art dealings. However, over the last twelve months he has regularly made large cash withdrawals. I once took the liberty of asking if they were being used for investments, and he told me – rather sharply – that it was a family matter he would prefer not to discuss.’

*

As our route to Dr Limonov took us close to Van Helsing’s house, we asked the cab driver to pause there. Mina had already returned from her mysterious expedition – she appeared determined to keep the details secret from us – and joined us for the rest of our journey. After we had told her what we had discovered at Flinzer’s bank, Mina turned to Van Helsing and I with a puzzled expression.

‘There’s
one thing I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘Although we have not yet had the benefit of Miss Wilton’s translation, it seems highly probable that the canopic jars that were discovered in Signor Peretti’s house were purchased from Theodore Flinzer. And yet Flinzer’s bank account showed no record of any payment received from that gentleman.’

‘Remember that Signor Peretti is – or rather was – a native of Sicily,’ Van Helsing said. ‘The people of that region have an aversion to banks and cheques, preferring the security of cash. I dare say Flinzer – if indeed the jars were his – was paid in gold. But I see we are rapidly approaching Belmont Square. I must warn you that Limonov has something of a reputation for domestic eccentricity. We may find him at a late breakfast, or be informed that he has just retired to bed.’

‘Then
he is evidently a bachelor,’ Mina said with a smile. ‘Such irregularities would hardly be tolerated in a married man.’

*

Limonov’s maid led us not to her master, but the housekeeper, who introduced herself as Mrs Garnett, and took us into the drawing room.

‘I
believe it’s Professor Van Helsing?’ she asked our friend. Upon receiving confirmation the housekeeper addressed herself to the Professor.

‘To
tell the honest truth I’m glad you’ve called today, sir. The plain fact is I’m rather worried about Dr Limonov. I haven’t set eyes on him for almost three days – the last time I saw him was Tuesday, when I took a light supper up to him on a tray, about nine o’clock that evening. As you know the doctor doesn’t keep what you might call regular hours, but then he has to eat, doesn’t he? And if he were to go away, he’d always tell me. Then there’s another thing. You can see his bedroom from the back of the house, and the curtains haven’t been open since Tuesday night. Of course I’ve tried knocking on his bedroom door, but it’s locked and there’s no reply.’

‘Tell
me Mrs Garnett,’ I said, casting a worried glance towards my wife and Van Helsing, ‘do you recall your master receiving any parcels before his disappearance?’

‘Why
yes sir. On Tuesday morning a package was sent here addressed to the doctor; it was about the size of a cigar box. He was out all day, and to be honest I’d forgot all about it until he got home that night and I took up his tray. So I took the parcel up to his room along with his supper. When he saw it he was so pleased he didn’t ask why I’d not given it to him the moment he’d got home. “Splendid, Mrs Garnett, splendid!” he’d said and fair snatched it from me.’

‘Very
well,’ I said, with my mind full of foreboding. ‘If Professor Van Helsing and my wife are in agreement, I propose we break down your master’s bedroom door. Of course, if it turns out to be unnecessary, I will reimburse the cost of repair. Mrs Garnett, if you could show us to his room and then wait for us downstairs, I would be grateful.’