Redfalcon, page 18
‘Couldn’t stop who?’ Stannix demanded irritably.
‘Me, I’m afraid.’
Mary Hannay shooed the young officer away as she entered the room and closed the door behind her. Although the Royal Nursing Auxiliary was not officially part of the military, it had been granted military ranks. Mary now stood before them in a khaki uniform with captain’s stripes, which lent her a commanding air of authority.
‘You, I suppose, are Mr Stannix,’ she said, addressing the man who had spoken, before turning to Lamancha. ‘Hello, Charles. It’s been ages, hasn’t it?’
‘Kit, this is Mary Hannay,’ Lamancha explained. ‘You know I’m always glad to see you, Mary, but we’re mired in some deep business right now.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Mary informed him brusquely. ‘You’ve sent my husband off on some desperate mission that will take him to Malta, God willing. I’m sure you know my son is already stationed there. Well, now you’re going to send me.’
Confronted by a pair of faces blank with astonishment, she went on, ‘I’m sure you could use my services as a military courier, and once there I could take up a post at the hospital.’
The two men exchanged dubious glances and Lamancha struggled to articulate a response. ‘Mary, I appreciate how you feel . . .’ he began.
‘But really, Mrs Hannay, there are proper channels for this sort of thing,’ Stannix asserted gruffly.
Mary’s eyes grew as hard as diamonds and she fixed the men with a glare that could have felled a prizefighter.
‘Gentlemen, for the past few months I’ve been involved in training some very brave young women to blow up bridges and kill with their bare hands,’ she stated in a voice of intimidating calm. ‘Yesterday I sent the first group of them off to France where a terrible death may await every one of them. I think you’ll find I’m not in a mood to be put off.’
29
THE ADVERSARY
The long train ride north to neutral Tangier proved mercifully uneventful, though I remained, as ever, alert for any sign that the enemy might have picked up our trail. Because of the strict controls at the border of Spanish Morocco, we could not have any sort of weaponry with us. This left us largely defenceless, but we could not take the chance of being detained by the border police, not while the clock was ticking so loudly on the fate of Malta.
We had no sooner emerged from the bustle of Tangier’s railway station than we were beset by a mob of hawkers, pressing upon us all manner of wares, including cheap jewellery, treasure maps and hashish. We fought our way through this throng past a perfumery from which issued the popular Arab scents of musk and amber. Ahead of us, the city’s whitewashed buildings rolled across its seven hills, dotted here and there with the slender brick towers of the mosques. In the distance, past the battlements of the kasbah, lay the sparkling bay enclosed in a curve of dark blue hills; beyond that, lay the wide blue waters of the Mediterranean and the Straits of Gibraltar.
In 1906 the European powers had signed a treaty which established Tangier as a neutral port to be administered by a multinational committee. The city’s international status had quickly gained it a reputation for a laxity that bordered on decadence. As well as being a nexus point for migrant workers passing between Africa and Europe, its many shady bars and cafés were frequented by spies, exiles and smugglers of every stripe.
It occurred to me that we were in more danger here in these boisterous streets than among the storm-haunted peaks of the Atlas Mountains. I took little comfort from the sight of the white-helmeted local police in their khaki uniforms, for they seemed as bemused by the swarming crowds of colourful merchants and entertainers as any newly arrived tourist.
Beyond the palm trees that surround the circular sloping square of the Grand Socco, we found the discreet entrance that leads into the courtyard of the El Mahzri hotel. That antique building had been constructed in a Hispano-Moorish style under the auspices of a notorious Scottish marquis and had retained a certain roguish reputation ever since. Turpin had assured me that no one here would enquire after our business or question whatever names we chose to sign in under.
After our long journey from Fez, we were all grateful for a bath and some basic comforts. Once we were freshened up, we gathered round a table in the hotel bar and ordered drinks and a salver of flatbreads and spiced meats. Karrie had the tablet in a satchel that was slung over her shoulder. She had taken it upon herself to act as the guardian of the precious artefact her mentor had given his life to find, and I was not minded to argue the point. With Dougal keeping as close to her side as he could get away with, I knew our mysterious treasure was well protected.
Dougal took a swallow of local beer and screwed up his face at the taste of it. ‘I suppose it will have to do until we can get home to a proper pint of eighty,’ he grumbled.
‘Where do we go from here, sir?’ Jaikie asked me. ‘Back to Gibraltar? I suppose we should hand this little mystery over to some code-breaking geniuses and see if they can make anything of it.’
‘Right enough,’ Dougal agreed. ‘I can’t make head nor tail of the blessed thing.’
‘We must go on to Malta,’ Karrie declared firmly. ‘That is where the tablet came from and the key to its secrets must lie there.’
‘I agree with Karrie,’ I said. ‘And if everything Stannix told me is correct, then there’s precious little time to waste.’
The bar, which had been mostly empty when we arrived, was gradually filling up with customers, but we paid them little mind as we gratefully devoured our simple supper.
‘Malta it is then,’ said Jaikie, sipping from a glass of iced water. ‘But how are we to get there? A ship would be too slow. Is there a chance we could hire a plane?’
‘I don’t know that any civilian pilot would willingly fly into the middle of a war zone,’ said Karrie.
‘Turpin gave me the names of a few people I can approach,’ I said, ‘but we’d better watch our step. Tangier has a reputation for intrigue and double-dealing second to none.’
At this point I noticed the waiter standing at my shoulder, clearing his throat to get my attention.
‘Many pardons, sir,’ he apologised, ‘but the gentleman at that table over there invites you to join him for a drink.’
‘Thank you.’ I dismissed the waiter and glanced over at the table he had indicated. The man seated there wore a broad-brimmed hat that partially concealed his features and was dressed in a long leather coat. He raised his glass in salute, leaving me in no doubt at all as to his identity.
The others were looking in the same direction.
‘I can’t say I like the look of him,’ Dougal growled.
‘It’s Ravenstein,’ I informed them. ‘All of you please stay calm.’
Jaikie’s sharp eyes darted about the room, assessing the other customers who had recently arrived. ‘What are you going to do?’ he asked.
‘I suppose I had better go and have a chat with him,’ I replied with an air of casual irony. ‘Don’t make a move until we know just where we stand.’
As I stood up, Karrie laid a hand on my arm. ‘Please be careful, Richard. I’m quite sure he’s not alone.’
I sauntered over to the table and sat down opposite the enemy, who greeted me with a smile devoid of either warmth or amusement. I suspected at once that he did not actually need the gold-rimmed spectacles he was wearing, but that he felt compelled, when facing me, to mask himself behind even this most minimal of disguises. The eyes beyond the polished lenses were as cold and pale as Arctic ice. Beneath his straight, patrician nose the tight line of his mouth was formed by full lips suggestive of a sensual appetite only held in check by a rigid self-discipline.
He placed a glass in front of me and filled it from a bottle of spirits. ‘Schnapps,’ he said. ‘It was a pleasant surprise to discover that they serve it here.’
‘I’ve never cared for the taste of it,’ I said, pushing the glass aside.
Ravenstein took a sip of his own drink. ‘I’m so glad we have this chance to talk, Mr Hannay. Our last meeting was so rushed.’
‘It’s very hospitable of you to invite me over, but I don’t believe we have anything to discuss.’
‘Oh, I think you know that is untrue. And by now I am sure you are well aware of the sort of man you are dealing with.’
‘I hear you’re the last of the old Black Stone gang,’ I remarked casually. ‘I thought I had put paid to all of them, so I suppose I should regard disposing of you as a sort of mopping-up operation.’
‘Ah, you are trying to provoke me.’ He gave an indulgent nod. ‘Very good. But you mistake your adversary, Hannay. I am not one of the cosh-wielding thugs you are used to dealing with. I am a knight of the new order.’
‘A knight, eh?’ I looked him over with disdain. ‘I’m sorry to tell you, old man, that from where I stand your armour’s looking more than a little tarnished.’
‘Whatever you think of me, I have an impressive knack of getting results against all the odds. You, I believe, have demonstrated a similar prowess on numerous occasions.’
‘The difference is that I don’t preen myself on my successes. I just thank God I came through alive.’
‘Ah, there is that famous English modesty,’ Ravenstein observed. ‘It is so dishonest. It is merely a form of inverted vanity.’
‘Perhaps so,’ I agreed. ‘But take it from me, no one admires a braggart.’
Ravenstein folded his hands on the table in front of him and leaned forward an inch or two. ‘Let me explain myself, without bragging. I come from a long line of Prussian aristocrats. My family was intensely loyal to the Kaiser, and with his downfall the whole structure of our society collapsed. Germany’s flirtation with democracy ended in utter ruin, but out of the ashes a new aristocracy has arisen, one based not on bloodlines but on will. In this new world, those extraordinary men who have the will to rule will do so.’
‘I take it that you are one of those men?’
Ravenstein took out a pack cigarettes and tapped it on the table. ‘Demonstrably. My position in the new order will be one that I have won by my efforts and my ingenuity.’
‘This all sounds very grand, but I feel obliged to point out that you are being led by a madman.’
Ravenstein dismissed this quibble and lit his cigarette. ‘When a man embodies the will of an entire nation, he is bound to be prey to a few flights of fancy. But even those serve a purpose. War with the Bolsheviks was inevitable, so why should it not come now rather than later?’
‘If your quarrel is with the Russians,’ I said, ‘I rather wish you hadn’t dragged us into it. I suspect you’re going to regret it too.’
Ravenstein took a long draw on his cigarette and eyed me through the smoke. ‘Hannay, you, like me, are a man of the old school. You know what the rule of the mob has done to Russia, where every man is a slave, even those at the top. A man there has not a handful of earth to call his own. Is that the sort of land you would choose to live in?’
He spoke with such bald sincerity, I could almost believe that he genuinely wished to convert me.
‘I want to live in a land where no man has to call another his better,’ I told him, ‘where, whether rich or poor, a man’s worth is judged by his courage and compassion, and where a sense of personal honour is valued above all else.’
Ravenstein appeared to be assessing my words. ‘Our visions then are perhaps not so far apart, after all.’
‘On the contrary,’ I retorted. ‘I believe they diverge considerably. I hear there’s damnably little compassion in this Germany of yours and those extraordinary men you’re so proud of are nothing but brutes and bullies.’
At this his jaw tightened visibly. ‘You should not speak so unkindly of your future allies, Hannay.’
‘Allies? I hardly think so.’
‘Listen to me. With the removal of Malta from the board, Gibraltar will fall, and so will Egypt. With Egypt in our hands, we shall have possession of the Suez Canal, the very lifeline of your precious empire. At that point, you and your American friends will have no choice but to make a bargain with us. It is then that we shall all work together for the extermination of the Bolsheviks.’
‘So far Malta has held out stubbornly,’ I pointed out, ‘and I don’t believe you have the means to change that.’
Ravenstein pursed his lips in thought for a moment, then stubbed out his cigarette.
‘Very well then, let us come directly to the matter at hand. You have in your possession a certain item which I must insist you turn over to me.’
‘You can insist all you want, old man,’ I retorted, ‘but I’m afraid you’re deluding yourself.’
Ravenstein leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily. ‘Please drop this pretence of ignorance. I know very well that with the help of Dr Adriatis you made your way into the Atlas Mountains and found the tomb of the man referred to as Redfalcon. From it you extracted the object that had been hidden there. I know this just as I knew from my informants at the hotel in Fez that you would be travelling to Tangier. My agents have been watching out for you from the moment you arrived at the train station.’
‘You do seem to know quite a lot,’ I admitted.
‘No doubt the object is contained in that satchel that Dr Adriatis is keeping so close to her person. If you could prevail upon her to surrender it to me, then we can all walk away peacefully and no one need be harmed.’
I answered the implied threat with a hard stare. ‘I have to say that you’ve given me very little reason to want to oblige you.’
‘Then let me give you a reason. If you look around you will see that most of the men in this room are in my employ.’ He lifted one hand and in response eight or nine tough-looking customers rose slowly from their seats. They were a mixture of Arabs in fezzes and Spaniards in grimy white suits. When Ravenstein waved them back down, I realised that only a handful of the clientele could be regarded as innocent bystanders.
‘I can’t say they look like any improvement on the slovenly toughs you hired back in England,’ I commented.
‘All that matters is that there are enough of them to take what I want by force and leave you and your friends very much the worse for wear. Possibly even dead. A heavy price to pay for something that is no possible use to you.’
None of his henchmen looked to me to be armed, and I judged that here in a public place in neutral Tangier Ravenstein would wish to avoid the sort of gunplay that might bring the local police down on his head. Even so, the odds were heavily stacked against us.
Something about his attitude puzzled me. ‘If this object is of no use, why are you so determined to have it?’
Ravenstein leaned forward, as though disclosing a confidence. ‘I already have what I need. You see, when I failed to recruit Dr Adriatis to my cause, I pursued a different avenue to the secret of Redfalcon. I had my agents track down the original journal of Don Rodrigo d’Alcantara, the sole survivor of the three shipwrecked knights.’
He paused long enough to watch me absorb this information, then continued in a self-satisfied manner. ‘It was stored in the deepest recesses of the archives of the National Library in Madrid, a city in which, as you can understand, I have many friends. That journal is now in my possession, and you will be very impressed with what I found tucked inside the leather cover.’
He reached into his coat and brought out a folded sheet of yellowed parchment. Opening it up, he presented it to my gaze.
‘As you can see, Hannay, I already have Redfalcon’s secret.’
30
THE TURN OF THE CARDS
Even at the brief glance that was all he would grant me, I could see at once that what he held was a perfect copy of the markings on the tablet, exactly to scale, with the same irregular positioning of the symbols.
‘It states here quite clearly,’ said Ravenstein, pointing out some handwritten words down the side of the paper, ‘that this is an authentic copy of the message buried in Sir Thomas Easterly’s tomb.’
He folded it up and slipped it back into an inner pocket with a smirk of satisfaction. ‘You see, Hannay, all I want from you is something I already have. You do not even understand its meaning, so to you it is quite worthless.’
The fact that Ravenstein already possessed the mysterious message we had travelled so far to lay our hands on came as something of a shock, and I found my mind racing to assess the significance of this unexpected development.
‘And I suppose you do understand it?’ I queried, keeping my voice flat and steady to conceal my unease.
‘I do.’ He lit a fresh cigarette and drew on it pensively. ‘In a spirit of friendly cooperation, I will even explain to you what those symbols are.’
I could hardly believe he was speaking the truth, but I was nonetheless intrigued to hear what he had to say. ‘Please enlighten me.’
‘When properly decoded, those symbols form a prayer, a prayer that summons the power of God to one’s aid.’ He smiled patronisingly. ‘You see, just a piece of empty superstition, whether written on paper or engraved on that tablet you possess.’
‘Which begs the question, why do you want it?’ I was at this point genuinely puzzled as to his motives for risking this confrontation.
‘As you know, the Führer is an avid collector of historical and religious artefacts.’ He quirked his mouth to show that he was somewhat embarrassed to discuss such a matter. ‘It would gain me great favour if I were to bring him this new addition to his private museum.’
‘Far be it from me to disappoint Uncle Adolf,’ I responded, ‘but I’m not inclined to do you any favours.’
‘Regardless of your feelings,’ said Ravenstein, his manner now hardening, ‘you are outnumbered and without friends here. Let us settle this matter without violence. I am sure you would not wish any harm to befall the lovely Dr Adriatis.’
‘I think she can stick up for herself,’ I asserted confidently.
