‘What are you talking about?’
‘Persi’s room – it’s the fourth window from which end?’
‘For heaven’s sake Lennox, you should have thought about that before.’
I noticed the fat chap in white robes on the roof opposite take the pipe from his mouth and lean forward to gaze at me.
I ignored him and shuffled closer to the precipice.
‘No, effendi, no! Don’t do it,’ Jamal suddenly called out from somewhere behind me. I twisted around. He appeared from the stairs and was now dodging around tables, chairs and potted palms to rush in my direction.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Jamal, he’s got a rope,’ Swift told him. ‘Come and sit on this seat.’
Jamal paused to stare open-mouthed and realised I was indeed secured to the end of a tether.
‘Jamal, come and sit down and don’t move,’ I ordered. Then I took a deep breath, turned round and lowered myself over the side.
The rope swayed and I swung like a pendulum for a couple of seconds, my heart racing. I clung to one of the knots I’d tied as my knuckles turned white. The parapet jutted out about a foot which was enough of a gap to allow me to rotate slowly on the rope without actually touching the stone wall. I looked down as I swivelled 360 degrees and realised the window was only about three feet below me. I lowered myself down the next two knots and, still spinning, tapped the glass with my left foot as I arrived level with the top of the frame.
Nothing happened.
‘Damn it, Persi. Come on,’ I cursed aloud.
I went a few inches further down and could see some sort of shadow in the window, which I now realised was opaque with a layer of grime. I kicked again as the gentle spinning of the rope brought me back to face the glass.
Still no response. ‘Persi,’ I tried yelling.
That didn’t work either. I lowered myself to the next knot in the rope, waited until I’d rotated level with the window, raised my fist to rap on the pane then let out a shout. ‘Hell!’
‘What?’ Swift called out.
I didn’t answer.
There was a face pushed up against the glass. A shadowy grey face with a slack jaw and wide, open eyes staring out at me.
A window opened further along the row, it was Lady Maitland. Why the devil did she always appear at the most inopportune moments?
‘Major Lennox! What, pray, are you doing now?’
‘I… I…’
The window on the other side opened. Persi put her head out and shouted. ‘Heathcliff! What on earth are you doing out there?’
I was still spinning slowly and had involuntarily turned to face out over the rooftops at the fat man in white, who was now gaping at us.
‘I have to see you, Persi,’ I told her as I rotated in her direction.
She held her hands to her cheeks. ‘Heathcliff, do be careful! There’s a forty foot drop below.’
‘I know! And will you please stop calling me Heathcliff.’
‘Miss Carruthers,’ Lady Maitland said cooly, ‘I suggest you inform your Romeo on a rope that there are easier means of access than this desperate escapade.’ She slammed her window shut on her words.
‘Persi,’ I gasped. ‘I’ll be back,’ and hauled myself up knot by bloody knot.
‘Body, Swift.’ I could barely catch my breath. ‘In the window. Dead body.’
‘What sort of body? Whose?’ He rattled questions off at me as I sat wheezing on the parapet. I’d untied the rope and flung it onto the tiles. Jamal was peering over the edge, down at the windows, as I told Swift what I’d seen.
‘I don’t know. A man.’ I was still trying to catch my breath.
‘The perfume!’ he exclaimed. ‘It wasn’t spilled, it was dropped deliberately to cover up the smell of a body.’
‘Effendi,’ Jamal returned, ‘effendi, you must not go on rope. It is too dangerous. Not to go again, sir. Be a good fellow now.’
‘Have to, Jamal.’ My breath had almost returned. ‘No choice.’
‘Please. If I help you, please not to tell anyone.’
Swift and I turned our gaze on him. ‘How?’
‘There is stairs for use by servants. I can show you, if you promise no more ropes.’
I grabbed the end of the cord nearest to me, coiled the damn thing up and tossed it over the parapet. ‘Agreed, Jamal. Now lead the way.’
‘First, you must take note of my words, effendi.’ He held a finger up as he spoke. ‘Doorway to inner stairs is behind reception desk and Master Hamid will prevent your entry. It is not a worthy place for honoured guests.’
‘Then you will have to distract him,’ Swift ordered.
‘Ah, yes, be certain that I will do this, effendi. But this new guard for the ladies is not so easy. He will observe you along the walkway before your goal is reached.’
This gave us pause for thought. An arm suddenly pushed aside the curtained day bed in a far corner. Harry Bing leaned out from between the posts – we hadn’t even noticed he was there.
‘I say, you there. Couldn’t keep the noise down, could you? Trying to have a doze, you know.’
‘Bing! Just the man,’ I called to him. ‘Come over here.’
‘No.’
‘Bing,’ Swift shouted.
‘Oh, very well.’ Harry rose to his feet, swayed a little and tottered over, circumnavigating chairs and shrubs as he went.
‘Came up for some fresh air.’ He wafted a hand in the direction of the bed. ‘What are you up to?’ He brought us into focus with blood-shot eyes.
‘Umm, never mind,’ I said. ‘Listen, Bing, we need a bit of a favour. You couldn’t distract the guard on Ladies Row, could you?’
‘Why?’ He frowned.
‘I want to see Persi. Miss Carruthers, you know. She’s my girlfriend.’
‘Thought she was engaged to Langton?’
‘Well, she isn’t,’ I told him firmly. ‘Anyway, could you do something?’
He blinked a bit. ‘Well, I can do magic, but I’d need a rabbit and top hat for that. I can mime!’ he exclaimed. ‘Do you think that would distract him? I used to be awfully good at it in my schooldays.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘It helped get me into show business, miming.’ He suddenly stopped as still as a statue and then started to pretend there was a solid wall in front of him, hands out-splayed as though pushing against it. It was quite funny, actually.
Swift frowned. ‘I can’t see the guard being amused by that.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ I replied. ‘As long as he’s distracted.’
‘Right, come on,’ Swift tightened the belt of his trench coat and headed for the stairs.
We pushed Harry ahead of us when we reached Ladies Row and waited to watch what happened.
Utter bemusement was the reaction. The guard sat open-mouthed clutching his glinting sword across his lap as Harry started an impromptu performance. We silently filed down the stairs while Bing mimed himself out of an invisible box, quite obviously enjoying himself.
Hamid was easier to distract. Jamal simply led him to the fountain and began some lengthy explanation about something or other.
We spotted the staircase in a corner behind the reception desk, made a dash for it and raced up the stairs. Taking the steps two at a time, we passed linen cupboards and dimly lit corridors, not stopping until we reached the very top floor. The door to the outside was locked, but there was a large metal key hanging on a hook next to it.
We stepped out onto a shaded alcove at the very end of Ladies Row. Harry was performing at the other extremity, with the guard still turned in his direction.
‘We need to examine the corpse,’ Swift insisted.
I hesitated, keen to see Persi, but realised he was probably right.
‘Fine,’ I whispered back, ‘it’s the fourth one down.’
We crept along, Swift was right about the perfume, it was sickly sweet and only made bearable by the breeze wafting up from the courtyard and through the open walkway.
I tried the handle on the door, it was locked so I pulled out my lock picks.
‘Hurry up,’ Swift hissed.
I fiddled with a long, hooked tine then heard the satisfying ‘click’ as the levers sprung. As we opened the door, a different sort of stench hit us. I took a step backwards, Swift had a stronger stomach and shoved me inside, pulling the door behind him.
‘The perfume isn’t going to smother this any longer,’ Swift said as he eyed the deceased.
I gave a muffled reply through my handkerchief.
The man was a ghastly grey with green overtones and purplish in parts. He wore an expensive suit, well-cut and western in style. His face was long and thin to the point of cadaverous, which wasn’t surprising really.
We were in a cupboard of sorts, it held mops and brooms, buckets and domestic whatnots. It was quite narrow, the corpse was propped on a stool by the grimy window through which I’d seen him. Swift turned him around so that he ended up staring glassy-eyed at the unpainted ceiling. I hung back.
‘Look,’ Swift said.
‘I’d rather not, actually, old chap.’
He ignored my squeamishness and pointed to a purplish red cut under the dead man’s chin. ‘He was killed with a stiletto knife.’ He leaned in more closely and pointed. ‘It would have been a quick upwards stab, probably took him unaware as there are no signs of a struggle.’
‘Bing said he’d seen Josephine use one during the war.’
‘And she was carrying a stiletto when she was killed.’
‘Really?’ I stared at him. ‘How do you know?’
‘I found it strapped to her inner thigh.’
I stepped backwards. ‘You found it on her thigh? What were you doing searching her thigh…’
‘Lennox, will you stop being so damn prudish. She was dead!’
‘That’s worse, probably… but… well, what happened to the knife?’
‘I left it there and Fontaine found it. He questioned me about it later.’
‘Hum, I still don’t think you should have…’
‘I think it’s the lawyer,’ he cut in.
Yes.’ I was still talking through the handkerchief. ‘Midhurst, I think he was called.’
‘Wait!’ Swift exclaimed. ‘There’s something here.’ He bent over the corpse, trying to open the right-hand fist. He unlocked the stiff fingers, held in a claw-like grasp, to reveal something written on the dead man’s palm.
‘He was hiding this.’ Swift was fond of stating the obvious.
I moved closer, despite the stink.
‘Raqisa,’ he read out, then looked at me.
‘Who?’
‘Or what?’ He read it again, then shrugged.
‘We should go. Bing will be running out of mimes.’ Actually, I was keen to get away from the corpse.
‘Yes, just a minute.’ He searched the clothes further but found nothing and the stench was truly overpowering. He gave up and we cleared out.
We trod quietly along the corridor, close to the wall, staying in the deep shadows, away from the bright, warm sunlight. We halted and I rapped quietly on the next door along. It opened.
‘Oh, at last!’ Persi smiled at us both and opened the door wide. ‘What’s that awful smell?’
‘We think it’s the lawyer.’ I was about to offer a peck on the cheek, but she froze and stared up at me.
Swift closed the door and came into the room, which was really very pleasant, although not as large as the Vincents’, nor mine actually.
I managed to gather her into my arms and cleared my throat to indicate to Swift that he should give us a moment. He didn’t take the hint.
‘You mean… Mr Midhurst?’ Persi said as I scowled at Swift. ‘But…?’
‘Yes, he must have been in the cupboard a couple of days,’ I said.
‘You don’t mean…?’ Her hands shot to her lips as she realised the implications. ‘He’s dead?’
‘Yes, he’s been stabbed with a stiletto,’ Swift told her, rather brutally to my mind.
‘We think Josephine did it,’ I said as she turned pale and went to sit on one of the sofas by the window.
‘But, why would she do that?’ Persi uttered.
I went to sit beside her.
‘We don’t know. Look old thing,’ I said as kindly as I could. ‘You must tell us as much as you can, we’re totally in the dark here.’
‘Yes, of course,’ she said. ‘It’s just been so…’
She was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. We swung around to see Lady Maitland standing in the doorway with a gun pointed straight at us.
Chapter 14
It seemed to be another day for surprises. Our reactions must have shown on our faces as a smile flicked across Lady Maitland’s thin lips. The door opened again and Genevieve slipped through – she was only armed with a handbag so we were probably safe from her.
‘Stay where you are,’ Lady Maitland ordered.
‘You’re British secret agents, aren’t you,’ I said rather loudly.
I received a cold glare in response.
‘Where is the house?’ Lady Maitland advanced on Persi.
‘You should be helping Charles Langton. He’s one of your men, isn’t he?’ Persi retorted, her eyes flashing. ‘You’ve left him to die.’
‘We have very little time, Miss Carruthers.’ Her Ladyship ignored the outburst. ‘I saw the corpse. Your misdirected Gallahads have allowed a stench to escape that will very shortly attract the guard’s attention. Tell me where the house of Hanno is.’
‘I can’t because I don’t know,’ Persi snapped back.
‘If you truly want to help your fiancé, I suggest you co-operate,’ Lady Maitland replied.
‘He’s not my fiancé,’ Persi retorted.
‘I do not like repeating myself, Miss Carruthers. Where is the house of Hanno the Navigator?’
Persi glared, she looked magnificent when she was angry, but then she hesitated. ‘I haven’t been able to contact the tomb-robber.’
Lady Maitland raised her brows. ‘So the exchange has not taken place?’
‘No,’ Persi replied. ‘Not as far as I know.’ She glanced at me with a questioning look.
I shook my head and shrugged.
‘Have you found the tomb-robber?’ Lady Maitland demanded of Persi.
‘No.’
‘Does Langton know how to contact him?’
‘Why don’t you ask him?’ Persi retaliated.
‘Do not test my patience,’ Lady Maitland glowered. ‘If you really want to help, tell me how to contact the tomb-robber.’
Persi stared in anger then dropped her eyes.
Genevieve had remained with her ear next to the door, listening for any noises outside. ‘I can hear the guard, he’s moving towards the cupboard. He’ll find the corpse,’ she called out.
Lady Maitland suddenly turned on me. ‘You have it, don’t you? That’s why you’re here.’
‘No,’ I replied, taken unawares by the sudden shift.
‘Give me the medallion,’ she demanded, the gun now aimed at Swift and I.
‘What are you going to do, kill us?’ I retorted.
‘No, Major Lennox, but I will damage you.’
Genevieve called out, ‘I can hear a commotion downstairs. I think the guard has gone for the gendarmes.’
‘Miss Carruthers,’ Lady Maitland turned her attention back to Persi. ‘Without the information from the tomb-robber, the French will not release you, or Langton. If they find the information before we do, we will have nothing to negotiate with.’
‘Why should I trust you?’ Persi sounded uncerta
in.
Lady Maitland turned and held her hand out toward me. ‘Give it to me, or I will be forced to act.’
I took a step back.
Swift stepped in. ‘Raqisa.’
‘Swift!’ I protested.
‘It’s an impasse, and I believe she is telling the truth,’ Swift was looking at Lady Maitland as he spoke.
She turned toward him. ‘How do you know it’s the Raqisa?’
I realised Swift was fishing for information and had thrown her the bait. He continued. ‘The lawyer had it written on his hand, I think he was killed because he’d found out about it.’
Genevieve turned around to call out, ‘I can hear shouting. You must hurry.’
‘Leave,’ Lady Maitland ordered Swift and I. ‘Both of you go to the terrace. I will meet you there shortly. Do not forget what is at stake.’
Swift turned to me. ‘Come on, Lennox.’
I paused to give Persi a quick, but heartfelt kiss then dashed after Swift.
We reached the door to the servant’s staircase just as the guard, followed by Colonel Fontaine, the sergeant and a number of soldiers, reached the top steps of the walkway. They didn’t see us as we slipped through to race down.
We came out behind the reception desk before pausing to catch our breath. There was a group gathered at the fountain so we casually sauntered over to look up at the commotion high on Ladies Row.
‘What’s happening, Hamid?’ I asked the Maitre’d who was standing nearest to me, wringing his hands.
‘Ah, effendi,’ he replied, without taking his eyes from the top floor, ‘there is something very terrible occurring. It is the mystery of the locked cupboard. I cannot understand it, the key was lost for two days and now the door is unlocked and it has revealed a tragedy. And yet, still, the key is missing.’
‘Ah, right, yes. A great mystery,’ I muttered and retreated to the rear where Swift had gone to stand out of earshot of the servants.
‘Fontaine will realise Josephine did it,’ he said.
‘Yes, I suppose so,’ I replied. ‘There are some damn strange women about the place.’
His hawkish look was more pronounced. ‘I suspect her Ladyship’s quite ruthless.’
‘Yes, do you think she killed Josephine?’
Death in Damascus: A 1920s Murder Mystery with Heathcliff Lennox Page 11
