Thieves Fall Out (Hard Case Crime)

by Gore Vidal

  “I understand you had an adventure across the river night before last.”

  “That’s one way of putting it. You nearly lost an errand boy.”

  Said chuckled. “They’re not easily come by, either. Could you come to my house now?”

  Pete said he would be there. After he hung up, he slid the revolver inside his belt on the left side, the butt at an angle where it could be easily reached. He had had little experience with small firearms. In the Army it had been an M-1 rifle all the time, but the principle was the same in any case: speed. Then he slipped on his gabardine jacket and went downstairs.

  He looked about him as he left the hotel, half expecting to see Osman standing in his usual position beneath the acacia tree, but only a fat naked child sat there in the heat, listlessly playing in the sand.

  A taxicab drove him at what seemed great speed across Luxor to the oasis of Said. His employer was waiting for him in the study overlooking the fountain. He was dressed, as before, in white. His dark glasses had been discarded and the one brilliant blue eye was turned always toward Pete, giving him suddenly the look of one of those figures in profile carved on the walls of the old temples.

  “Too early in the day for a drink? Yes? No?” Pete ordered Scotch and it was brought by one of the silent white-clad boys who moved barefoot about the house. They sat then in silence, looking at one another while Pete drank, slowly, carefully, not because he wanted the whiskey but because he wanted to be doing something, to avoid the bright stare of that one blue eye.

  At last Said spoke. “Why did you go across the river?”

  “To see Anna Mueller.”

  “Didn’t you realize how dangerous it was?”

  “No, I’m afraid I didn’t. Besides, I was with Osman. I figured he knew what to do if there was any trouble. He did, too. He ran like hell.”

  “Not fast enough,” said the Egyptian.

  “Why? Didn’t he make it?”

  “I think not. We have heard no word from him and that means just one thing.”

  “He was caught?”

  “There is no other explanation.” Said turned his good eye thoughtfully toward the garden. “He should have known better, I suppose. The error was his, not yours.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Pete, wondering whether or not to believe him. There was no reason for Said to lie. He could not have wanted Pete killed, at least at this stage of the game. But then, the game was none too clear as yet.

  “Well, there are other dragomen in Egypt.” Said smiled, any grief for Osman well disguised. “But now we have work to do and your days of sightseeing are over.”

  “They weren’t very convincing to begin with,” said Pete.

  Said looked surprised. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, if I was supposed to come up here and pose as a tourist, it was all a big flop, because the one person who shouldn’t have known why I was here did know, and as far as I can tell nobody else gives a damn, except him and the law.”

  “You’re referring to Mohammed Ali? Yes? Well, how do you know that he was supposed to be fooled by your masquerade? Have you considered the possibility that he might be one of us?”

  Pete nodded. “Sure, and when I mentioned it you told me he would give anything to lay his hands on the necklace.”

  Said laughed. “You have me there. Let’s put it this way: The Inspector is our man on the police. There’s little chance of our doing anything without his co-operation. In the past he has proved himself to be honest. That is, he lived up to his agreements, helped us smuggle various odds and ends out of the country, and never tried to—what is your nice American expression—hold us up. This time we’re not so sure. You see, our other…consignments have been bulky and the machinery of getting them abroad was complex. There was really no way the good Inspector could take our business away from us, or would want to, since we took all the chances and he collected his commission, safely and easily.”

  “But you think this time he’s tempted?”

  “Tempted is not the word, Pete. Our friend is out of his mind with greed. That necklace could be any man’s fortune and Mohammed Ali knows it. He knows, too, that it is easily smuggled—not like one of the usual consignments, when we are forced to hire an entire ship to take care of our cargo. This particular fortune can be carried in a man’s pocket or sewn in his coat. It is so easy, too easy, and the Inspector wants it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Wouldn’t you want it?” The question snapped like a lash across the room.

  Pete sat back suddenly in the chair. He tried to grin. “You make it sound awful nice,” he said.

  “I suspect I do,” said Said quietly, and his eyelids dropped like a hawk’s over the two strange eyes.

  Pete changed the subject quickly. “If it was so important—the necklace, I mean—why did you ever let him find out about it in the first place?”

  “It’s not that easy.” Said played with an ivory box. “You see, the necklace is a famous one. There is no real secret about it. I suppose there are at least a dozen people in Egypt who know I have it, and they would like it, too. The Inspector is one of those. I will not go into past history because it is no concern of ours now—except to say that Mohammed Ali tried, some years ago, to get the necklace away from my predecessor, and failed. I believe he’ll try again.”

  “In spite of his having been already fixed?”

  Said nodded. “In spite of that. I had hoped we would be able to get it out of the country quietly, without any trouble from him, without his knowing, but unfortunately he found out. I’m not sure how. We first received warning last week, from Hélène. He had mentioned it to her.”

  “At a night club in Cairo,” said Pete, suddenly remembering his first sight of the Inspector.

  “That’s right. You were there, too. He spoke, of course, only of his usual fee for allowing us to get it through the customs—a form of blackmail, since in the case of something so small police protection is hardly important…unless someone in the police has found out about it.”

  “As he did.” It was beginning to make a little more sense, thought Pete.

  “As he did. We had thought all along that it would be wise to entrust it to someone who would not be under suspicion—preferably one with an American passport.”

  It was always at this point that Pete’s suspicions recurred. “The only thing is,” he said reasonably, “that I am under suspicion by the one person who wants it the most and who has the best chance of getting it, being a policeman.”

  The blue eye flashed at him sharply. “If you are careful you have nothing to fear.”

  Pete shrugged. “What’s to prevent him from arresting me for walking on the wrong side of the street? Or, even easier, why arrest me at all when he can just march into my room waving a police badge, cut my throat, and take the necklace with him?”

  Said looked thoughtfully across the oasis. “We have taken all that into consideration,” he said. “We realize the risk is great. I have confidence in you, though.” He smiled. “Any man who can take care of three—it was three?—bandits in their own region at night is a likely candidate for survival.”

  Pete finished his Scotch. “Well, it’s not that so much. I don’t flatter myself that you people care one way or the other what happens to me. But it does matter a hell of a lot to you what happens to the necklace. I think it’s sort of funny that you’re willing to hand it over to a marked man.”

  The Egyptian sighed. “Take our word for it, Pete. We know what we’re doing.”

  “Even though the Inspector knows I’m to smuggle the necklace out of Egypt, and you still don’t know, in spite of your big international hookup, whether or not I might be dumb enough to try to get off with it myself?”

  “I’m sure you wouldn’t do that.” Said was mild. “For one thing, you wouldn’t know how to dispose of it.”

  “I could sell the ruby you mentioned.”

  “Possibly. But what a waste! One tenth of the pr
ice we could get, and you will get a tenth of the final sale anyway.”

  This was it at last. “You on the level?” Pete was finally interested; he had been waiting for this since Said’s hint a few days before.

  “On the level, Pete.” Said looked at him gravely. “We can have no written agreement, but in an undertaking as delicate as this we must all act in good faith with each other or else lose everything. Were you to double-cross us, we would lose the necklace for good, even though the organization of which we are a part would see that you were punished. Were we to double-cross you, you could make it extremely difficult for us to dispose of the jewels by giving an alarm.”

  “Unless I were put away.” Pete grinned.

  Said frowned. “We are not like that. And so, you see, mutual faith is necessary. You are a partner in this. You will be an agent for us and receive an agent’s commission in addition to what we’ve already given you.”

  “I’m still not so sure about Mohammed Ali,” said Pete. “His knowing, I mean. He’s got all the cards. This is his country; he’s the police. There’s nothing he can’t do.”

  “Remember us, Pete.” Said was cool. “Remember that we have power, too, in Egypt. Power above the police if we need it. Power to remove a police official who crosses us. He will not act openly against you. Don’t be afraid of that. He is a careful man, unwilling to offend us.”

  “But he wants the necklace.”

  “Yes, he wants it, and you must be careful. Always keep in the open, near people—but avoid public places like Le Couteau Rouge.”

  Pete was startled. “How did you know about that?”

  Said chuckled. “I hear everything, my boy.”

  They sat in silence for a moment while Pete considered the situation. He had, he realized, no alternative. This was the only chance he had of making enough money to get himself and Anna away from Egypt and back to the States. If the necklace brought as big a price as Said seemed to think it would and if he was actually given a tenth of that price, it would be a tidy amount to settle down with, to start a new life on. It sounded good; it sounded a little too good. “By the way,” he asked, “what was the point of my coming here? The Inspector was onto me anyway and—”

  “But I wasn’t,” said the Egyptian pleasantly. “I wanted to get to know you first and that was easier up here.”

  “Then why was it so important for me to trail around after Osman, acting like a tourist? There was nobody to fool, was there?”

  Said looked at him a moment without expression; then he said, “There are others interested in our property. You must be discreet.”

  “Others? Who?”

  “Stop seeing that girl.” It came out harshly, unexpectedly.

  “Anna? But—”

  “Take my word for it. Don’t see her if you want to get out of this alive.” Then, before Pete could protest, could demand an explanation, Said stood up. “Let me show you my cellar,” he said easily. “It has the distinction, I believe, of being the only real cellar in Upper Egypt. And it has other distinctions, too, of course.”

  Mystified, Pete followed him out of the study and into a drawing room, richly furnished with Moorish tapestries upon the wall and a floor of mosaic arranged in exotic patterns. Said pushed open a door hidden by tapestry and Pete followed him down a narrow flight of stone stairs. It was like the tombs, he thought uneasily as he stood behind Said, who was working the combination to the heavy metal door at the foot of the steps. Noiselessly the door opened and Pete followed him into a stone crypt. For a moment they stood in blackness, a hot, airless place; Pete found himself gasping for breath until a gust of air from the open door behind them restored oxygen to his lungs. A light flashed on.

  The room was fairly large with a low ceiling. The walls were of stone blocks and the floor was hard-packed sand. Every available bit of space was occupied with mummy cases and ancient relics, chariots, statues inlaid with gold and ivory, boxes of lapis-lazuli scarabs. Over everything hung a strange odor of ancient sandalwood and incense.

  “These are my treasures,” said the Egyptian, leading Pete between the statues of golden kings seated in ivory chairs. “I collect them for my own amusement. Some are very valuable and I am forced, every now and then, to send one on a long journey to another country.” As he talked his hands caressed the statues as though they were alive. It was oddly unpleasant, Pete thought.

  At the far end of the crowded room, Said rummaged about among a number of small, highly decorated chests of inlaid wood. The one he wanted, however, was quite small and plain, fashioned of some pale stone with silver hinges.

  “Alabaster,” murmured Said as he brought the little box into the light and placed it carefully on a stone sarcophagus. Then he opened it and took out the necklace of Queen Tiy.

  Even to Pete’s untrained eye it was a marvelous work: a collar of bright gold and blue enamel set with dark blue and red stones. But the unusual part was the pendant, which was shaped like the head of a hawk in whose beak was suspended an enormous pear-shaped ruby, as large as a pigeon’s egg and gleaming luminous red in the dim light. Pete had never seen anything like it.

  Said fondled it for a moment in silence. Then he handed it to Pete. “You must guard it well,” he said.

  Pete nodded as he felt the cool gold in his hands. The necklace was lighter than it looked, the gold as thin as paper, but firm, unbent after three thousand years. “How will I handle it?” he asked.

  “I’ll show you.” Said led him back upstairs to the study, where he clapped his hands twice. A servant appeared. Said mumbled an order and the servant disappeared while Pete stood awkwardly by the window, holding the necklace in his hands.

  A moment later a veiled woman appeared. She made a low bow and stood before them, her eyes on the floor. Said turned to Pete. “Take off your coat,” he said. Pete did so and watched with interest as the woman deftly ripped open the lining and placed the necklace inside near the shoulder, where it would not show; in a matter of minutes, she had sewn it in. When she was finished, she left the room as quietly as she had come.

  “There.” Said smiled, tossing him the coat. “How’s that for a good job?”

  Pete held up the coat and examined it. The job was extraordinary. The necklace had been placed in the armpit, so that even if someone were to clap him on the shoulder it could not be felt. “Now all I got to remember is to keep my coat on,” said Pete, slipping it on.

  “Especially when you have a gun in your belt.”

  Pete flushed; he had forgotten it. “Well, those were orders.”

  “That’s right, those were orders. Well, Pete, I wish you luck. We shall probably not meet again. You will take the train tomorrow to Cairo and there you will contact Hélène, who will give you final instructions. She will make all further arrangements.”

  “One thing,” said Pete, as they walked to the door. “Why did you tell me to stay away from Anna?”

  Said paused. They were in the hall. A servant stood ready to open the door. “Ask her one day, if you’re foolish enough to keep seeing her, how well she knows Le Mouche. Now, Allah be with you.” And they parted.

  * * *

  When he got back to the hotel he found that Anna was out, shopping in the town, but she would be back in time for dinner, according to the manager, that master of misinformation. Idly Pete strolled out into the garden at the back of the hotel. Under the trees was a certain coolness, for which he was grateful. He sat on a bench in the shade and looked west toward the river.

  Boats with red sails tacked across the snake-gray water. A flight of birds crossed the blazing sun. For a moment he was at peace, all thought of trouble gone in the warm green silence of the garden. He shut his eyes and dreamed of Anna, of the life they would have together in the States. He saw a house, children in the vague background. But he saw no job, and thinking of that, he opened his eyes again, frowning slightly. Would they really give him a part of the proceeds from the necklace? He could feel the weight of the jewels ag
ainst his side. They were his if he wanted them, if he had the nerve to double-cross Said and Hélène. He put this out of his mind. There were rules even for those who lived outside the law. He could break the laws of Egypt, of the United States, but he could not break those laws that demanded that partners in desperate adventures play it straight with one another.

  But why was he a partner in this scheme? Why had they asked him to do what they themselves could obviously have done better? Said’s reasons had been good, but not good enough. He wondered if perhaps they were testing him and, if so, for what?

  Then he remembered what Said had said about Anna and he grew suddenly cold at the thought. Was it possible she wanted the necklace? Was it possible that all her words of love had been false? A means to an end? Even while he considered this possibility, he knew instinctively that Anna was his. At the worst, she was being controlled by others. He thought back over all that she had said and left unsaid about her situation in Egypt. But no matter how hard he tried, he could make no real sense of it. She was involved, some way or other, with the government and the King. She was not free to do as she pleased and she was also very likely under the surveillance of the police. The simple explanation that she was the King’s mistress and he was keeping an eye on her did not explain the apparent freedom with which she had behaved here in Luxor; then, too, he believed her when she told him there had been nothing between her and the King. The mystery of her behavior was impenetrable. All that he could believe in, finally, was her love.

  Mohammed Ali appeared in the French window of the dining room and looked about him. Pete wondered whether or not he should light out, avoiding a meeting with the eager Inspector, but he was spotted before he could hide.

  The policeman was as cordial as ever. “Feeling better?” he asked, sitting down uninvited beside Pete.

  “I’m all right.” Pete moved to the far end of the bench.

  “I’m glad. I have been looking for you all afternoon. I supposed you were at Said Pasha’s, and of course I didn’t want to interrupt your conference.”

  “You did once before.”