“Ah,” Richard said. “You’re German?”
Wilhelm scowled and shook his head. “What makes you think that?”
“Your accent. I never forget one of those. Not to mention that I always defeat Germans in poker.”
“Good thing I’m French,” Wilhelm said.
Two other gentlemen sat down, and the game began. Wilhelm gestured to the dealer to begin.
Five minutes into the game, Richard figured out the scam. The other two players, who barely mumbled a word, were German soldiers. Their job was to drive the bids up and apply pressure on the one player who wasn’t in on the bed. Once it was clear that they needed to fold, they did. It didn’t take long before Richard was digging into his empty pockets and producing the last crisp twenty-dollar bill he owned other than an emergency fund he stashed in his sock.
“Your money isn’t long for this table,” Wilhelm said. “I believe I hear it begging to be swept off the table and into my pockets.”
Richard maintained his composure, refusing to back down from Wilhelm even after he gained a significant advantage by winning a large pot.
“It’s not over yet,” Richard declared.
“You would do well to walk away from the table unless you want to get up empty handed.”
Richard shook his head. “I never back down.”
“It’s difficult to accept submission, but that’s where you are going to end up—and you’re going to end up there in a hurry.”
Richard stared at the card in his hand from the latest deal. Without hesitating, he pushed all his chips toward the center.
“All in,” he said. “And you?”
Wilhelm responded by doing the same.
“Let’s up the ante,” Richard said. “I have a gold watch in my room. I’ll go fetch it for you if I lose. Do you have any other object you might be willing to include in this wager? Perhaps that document you keep clutching next to your chest?”
Glaring at Richard, Wilhelm removed his watch and dropped it on top of the pile of chips in the center.
Richard looked at his card. Four nines and the ace of spades. The hand was a winner, no doubt. He laid down his cards and smiled in satisfaction.
Wilhelm didn’t flinch, laying down a royal flush in hearts. “I’ll need you to go get that watch for me now.”
Richard sighed before standing up. There was no watch in his room—only a sleeping Antoine who wouldn’t be happy about such an intrusion.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Richard said as he stood.
“I think I’ll accompany you,” Wilhelm said.
Several minutes later, Richard was opening the door to his room, which was received by Antoine with much disdain. He grunted and moaned when the desk lamp pierced the darkness.
“What are you doing?” Antoine asked, shielding his eyes as he turned in the direction of the desk. “I’m trying to sleep.”
“I’m looking for my gold watch,” Richard said. “I placed it right here on the desk before I left.”
“I haven’t seen your gold watch,” Antoine said as he turned over and buried his head beneath his pillow. “Now get out so I can get some sleep.”
Richard rooted around the room for less than a minute on a mission he knew would be fruitless. He finally exited the room and put his hands on his hips.
“Someone must’ve stolen it,” Richard said. “I left it right there.”
Wilhelm narrowed his eyes. “You’re lying.”
“I swear, I’m telling the truth.”
“Swear away, but I know a liar when I see one,” Wilhelm said. “You need to accompany me to see the captain.”
Richard refused to budge, but Wilhelm wasn’t having it. He gestured toward two other men to grab Richard. They complied with the direction, while Richard surrendered his fight.
Wilhelm led them to the captain’s quarters. The man was enjoying a glass of wine over dinner with his wife.
“Sorry for the intrusion, sir,” Wilhelm began, “but I’m afraid we need you to render a decision on what to do with this rascal.”
“What offense did he commit?” the captain asked, peering over the top of his glasses.
“Refusing to pay his gambling debt,” Wilhelm said. “He claimed to have a gold watch in his room that he offered to add to the pot. Yet when he lost, we went back to his room to retrieve the promised item and it wasn’t there.”
“Someone must’ve stolen it,” Richard said. “There’s a real thief running around on this ship somewhere.”
The captain scowled as he studied Richard. “You’re lying. Take him to the brig. We’ll keep him there until we reach port and then decide what to do with him.”
“You can’t throw me in the brig,” Richard said, his eyes wide with disbelief. “This is all a big misunderstanding. If you’ll just let me explain, I—”
The captain waved dismissively at Richard. “I don’t need another explanation. I know a lying thief when I see one. Now, if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I need to finish my meal.”
The door slammed shut, mere inches from Richard’s face, the sound reverberating down the hall. However, it wasn’t nearly as sickening of a sound when the brig door clanked shut.
Richard grabbed the bars with both hands and looked down at his feet. A rat scurried across the floor, weaving in and out of the cell as he appeared to be searching for food. A steady leak dripped from the ceiling, pooling in the far corner.
“What’s your name?” asked a guard as he settled onto a stool outside the prison door.
Richard hesitated, lost in thought over his ill-fated bid at the poker table.
I shouldn’t have been so confident.
The guard snapped his fingers several times. “Sir, I asked you what your name is. Do you not speak English?”
“My name is Fredrick Powers the Third,” Richard said with an air of pretentiousness.
The guard scribbled something down on his clipboard. “Well, Mr. Powers, I would tell you to get comfortable, but there’s nothing comfortable about that room in there. Just don’t let the rats nibble on your nose.”
Richard lay on the bed and pulled the sheets taut around him. He covered his face with his hands and prayed that he wouldn’t have to encounter any rats in the middle of the night.
Then he began to plot his escape.
Chapter 9
SITTING IN PRISON wasn’t a new experience for Richard, though spending time in a ship’s brig was. While sailing across the Mediterranean Sea, the Harvraise was a floating jail cell in some manner of speaking. Even if Richard could get beyond the bars that held him, he was still limited in where he could go to elude capture. However, he received the break he needed when Francis Gerard visited Richard just over twenty-four hours since first being incarcerated.
The orchestra conductor strode up to the gate and looked at Richard for a few seconds before speaking.
“I hardly recognized you in that disguise,” Francis said. “And I would’ve been down here sooner had I recognized your name on the brig roster.”
“One can never be too cautious while gambling with a ruthless opponent.”
“Well, Mr. Powers, I’m sure you’ve had time to contemplate the seriousness of your actions.”
“The only thing I’ve contemplated was my arrogance in thinking that the man I was playing poker with couldn’t be holding a royal flush.”
Francis sighed. “Why would I even be remotely surprised that you’re down here? What else should I have expected from a stowaway?”
“I’m not a stowaway,” Richard said. “I already told you that someone mugged me and stole my ticket a few hours before the ship was preparing to leave.”
“I remember,” Francis said. “But the funny thing is I went and looked at the ship’s manifest and couldn’t find a single Frederick Powers listed. Now how do you explain that?”
Richard shrugged. “Perhaps I wasn’t added because I purchased my ticket too close to the departure time. The manifest may have been recorded already.”
>
“That’s not how the manifest works.”
“In that case, maybe it was an oversight.”
Francis sighed. “None of your excuses sound very convincing to me.”
“Did you come here just to mock me?”
Francis shook his head. “I must admit that the reason for my visit is self-serving, though I certainly didn’t intend to come down here and needle you about your imprisonment.”
“What do you want?”
“I want my top violinist back.”
Richard huffed a soft laugh through his nose. “Isn’t he out there already, roaming the ship freely?”
“Actually, my previous top violinist is indisposed right now, suffering from a nasty bout with the flu.”
“I’m sure I’ll contract something soon enough down here. These aren’t exactly the best conditions to be living in.”
Francis shook his head. “Unfortunately, he’s not the only one who’s contracted something. With the Captain’s Ball scheduled for tomorrow night, which is our last performance before we reach port, I have eight of my musicians unable to perform due to sickness, including two of the other three violinists. As I’m sure you can attest to, a serious orchestra needs more than just one violin.”
“I will help you on one condition,” Richard said as he stood and started to pace around his cell. “You must get the charges against me dropped.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” Francis said. “I already spoke with the captain about this, and he’s fearful of what might happen if a first-class passenger is wronged and there are no reparations made. He must hold you accountable for your actions.”
“In that case, I’m not sure I can help you.”
“Here’s what I can do for you,” Francis said. “I already spoke with the captain about this, and he’s agreed to let you go free on the ship provided that you perform at the ball tomorrow night. After the dance, you’ll be escorted back to your cell by one of the guards. I know it’s not much of a concession, but you must understand the position the captain is in. I’m sure you’ll be able to work something out to avoid staying in an Egyptian prison for very long.”
“Let me think about it,” Richard said.
“You have one hour. After that, I’ll begin to make other plans.”
Left alone to ponder the proposition, Richard only needed five minutes to agree to it. He would’ve agreed to Francis’s deal the moment it was offered, but Richard didn’t want to seem too eager for fear that the orchestra conductor might suspect a scheme had already been hatched, even if only in Richard’s mind.
When Francis returned, Richard agreed to the terms with one caveat—that he would remove his disguise in an effort to avoid embarrassing the captain over allowing an accused criminal to roam free on the ship.
“Why were you even wearing a disguise in the first place?” Francis asked. “Never mind. I probably don’t want to know the answer to that.”
“So, we’re agreed?” Richard asked.
Francis nodded. “I’m sticking my neck out for you. You better not let me down.”
“Don’t worry,” Richard said. “I wouldn’t miss tomorrow night’s gala for the world.”
* * *
RICHARD AWOKE THE NEXT morning in his bed with Antoine looming over him. Before Richard could get his bearings, he sat up and scrambled back against the wall.
“I was beginning to wonder if you’d absconded with my bowler,” Antoine said as he straightened his hat.
“Just a little detour yesterday,” Richard said, forcing a nervous laugh.
“It didn’t have anything to do with the fact that you were scrounging around the room, looking for a gold watch, did it?”
“Now why would you think something like that?”
Antoine shrugged. “Perhaps your curious behavior makes me wonder about what kind of man you are.”
“All you need to know is that I’m the kind of man who keeps his word—and I told Francis I would be playing with the orchestra at the Captain’s Ball tonight.”
“I guess I’ll believe it when I see it, though I prefer you not skip the dance. Francis made me play violin yesterday, and let’s just say that it’s not my preferred instrument.”
“Just like I brought your bowler back as well as your fake mustache and glasses as promised, I guarantee you’ll be bellowing on your French horn tonight.”
Antoine was already exiting the room as he shouted back. “You better not disappoint me.”
Richard moaned as he got out of bed and staggered over to the sink. He stared into the mirror and inspected his eyes, underscored by sagging pockets from the lack of sleep. After splashing water on his face, he looked again at his reflection and smiled. As dire as his circumstances felt, he remained optimistic that he would evade any further consequences, legal or otherwise, for his actions. Yet his confidence in the matter wasn’t the only reason he felt somewhat giddy: In less than a twenty-four hours, he would be in Egypt.
He stayed out of sight for most of the day, venturing out of his room only to eat. The fear of being recognized by Wilhelm or any of the other Reichswehr members was a valid concern, one that could best be abated by refusing to tempt fate. And while abandoning his target may have been unconventional behavior for a spy, Richard concluded that it wasn’t endangering his mission since the Germans were trapped on the same boat he was until they reached Alexandria.
A half hour before the musicians were scheduled to arrive to warm up and review the song list, Antoine returned to the room to get ready. He scowled when he found Richard napping.
“What on Earth is wrong with you?” Antoine asked. “Please tell me you’re not sick. You promised that I would be playing my French horn tonight.”
“And that’s what you will be doing,” Richard said as he sat up. “I was just catching up on my sleep, that’s all. No need to panic.”
Richard stretched before standing. He plodded across the room in an effort to make sure Antoine left first.
“You better be there,” Antoine said before exiting and disappearing down the hall.
Richard rushed around the room, gathering his belongings and stuffing them into a bag. He also snatched Antoine’s bowler hat as well as his spare spectacles and mustache. After a brief pit stop in the restroom near the dance hall, Richard ducked out onto the main deck and scanned the area. When he was confident no one was looking, he slid his bag into one of the lifeboats.
Upon joining all the other musicians, he took a seat in the first chair and tuned up his violin.
“Glad you could make it tonight, Mr. Powers,” Francis said.
Richard forced a smile as he situated his notes. “Just doing my part.”
Despite the absence of several key instrumentalists, the Captain’s Ball went off without a hitch. The orchestra performed so well that Francis couldn’t stop raving about it afterward, heaping plenty of praise on Richard. After Francis dismissed everyone, Richard remained behind as instructed until one of the guards appeared in the doorway, waiting to escort the accused criminal back to his cell.
Richard strode across the floor toward Francis, who was packing up his materials into a briefcase.
“The captain seemed to appreciate the show tonight,” Richard said as he leaned down and spoke softly. “Any chance you might be able to convince him to reconsider his position and show me some leniency?”
Francis clasped his attaché case shut. “I already told you that he must act in the interest of justice or else have his reputation sullied.”
“Showing a person mercy should boost one’s reputation, not taint it.”
“Says the guilty man in desperate need of a pardon.”
Richard exhaled slowly. “If what I’ve heard about Egypt is true, their punishments often don’t fit the crime. And quite frankly, what is my crime here?”
“You lost a wager, and you must make good on it. It’s simple fraud.”
“Exactly. Simple fraud. It’s more like I got caught up
in the moment while playing a competitive game of poker and spoke more confidently than I should have.”
Francis shook his head. “You should know better than that. Besides, nothing good ever really comes out of gambling.”
“I recognize that now, but I shouldn’t have to pay a steep price simply because we were sailing in the open waters.”
Francis patted Richard on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, son. You’re a slippery one, but I’m sure you’ll find your bearings soon enough, even if you have to waste a little time working in an Egyptian labor camp.”
“Labor camp? What are you talking about?” Richard asked as his eyes widened.
Francis glanced at his watch. “Would you look at the time. We’re going to be docking within the next half hour. And I need to get back to my room. Good luck.”
Richard watched Francis walk away, though his departure felt more like abandonment. Their symbiotic relationship worked, but in the end it was hollow for Richard, leaving him with the stark realization that they were simply using each other and were never actually friends. A friend would have fought for Richard’s freedom by standing up to the captain. But Francis refused to do such a thing.
“It’s time to go, Mr. Powers,” the guard said as he tapped his watch.
Richard shuffled toward the doorway and then asked if he could use the restroom. Once inside, he located the hat, glasses, and mustache he’d stowed beneath the sink and donned his disguise again. He removed his coat and placed it across his arm before exiting. The guard who remained outside didn’t even flinch when Richard walked by.
Richard didn’t turn around, afraid that a second glance might awaken the guard to the fact that he’d just lost his captive. Once outside on the deck, Richard scanned the area again. Passengers and crewmembers alike scurried back and forth in anticipation of finally reaching the Harvraise’s intended destination. Not a soul was paying him any attention.
Richard lifted up the tarp and slid into the boat. It rocked back and forth for a few seconds before it sat still. He barely moved for the next two hours as he heard the bustling sounds of unloading and excited chatter.
When he was sure that only the workers were left, Richard rolled over the edge and headed straight down to the hull, where workers were unloading goods and supplies shipped by French merchants. He found a nearby dolly and hoisted a barrel of wine onto it before guiding it across the narrow plank leading to the dock. A man barked directions at Richard, telling him where to leave his item. After following directions, Richard stole off into the shadows and surveyed the scene around the Harvraise one final time.
The Secret of the King's Tomb Page 5
