The Light of the Day - Eric Ambler [50]
I knew at once that she had seen the car because she was walking straight towards it. She was about two hundred yards away, and on the opposite side of the car to the door I had been working on, but I knew that I couldn’t get even one of the screws back in time. Besides, I was not in the place she had told me to be. There was only one thing I could do: stuff the screws and screwdriver into my pocket, start the car, drive around the courtyard to meet her, and hope to God the two loose screws would hold the panel in place when I opened the door to get out.
I had one piece of luck. The guide practically fell over himself opening her door for her, so I didn’t have to open the one on my side. I was able to get my apology in at the same time.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Lipp. I thought you might be visiting the St. Irene Church and I wanted to save you the walk back.”
That got by all right because she couldn’t thank the guide and answer me at the same time. The guide was an unexpected help, too, as he immediately asked her if she would like to see the church, “pure Byzantine, built in the reign of Justinian, and of great historical interest.”
“I’ll leave that for another time,” she said.
“But you will be here tomorrow, madame, when the Treasury Museum is on view?”
“Well, maybe.”
“Otherwise, it must be Thursday, madame. That part and the pictures are on view only two days in the week, when all the other rooms are closed.” He was obviously panting for her to come again. I wondered how much she had tipped him.
“I’ll try and make it tomorrow. Thank you again.” She gave him the smile. To me, she said: “Let’s go.”
I drove off. As soon as we got onto the cobbles the panel started to vibrate. I immediately pressed my knee against it and the vibration stopped; but I was really scared now. I didn’t think that she would notice that the screws were out; but Fischer or Harper certainly would; and there was this unknown we were going to meet. I knew that I had somehow to replace the screws while the car was at the airport.
“Is the plane on time?” she asked.
A donkey cart came rattling out of a side street at that moment, and I made a big thing of braking and swerving out of its way. I didn’t have to pretend that the cart had shaken me up. I was shaken up all right. My call to Tufan and the argument with him had made me forget completely about calling the airline. I did the best I could.
“They didn’t know of any delay,” I said; “but the plane was making an intermediate stop. Would you like me to check again?”
“No, it’s not worth it now.”
“Did you enjoy the Seraglio, Miss Lipp?” I thought if I kept talking it might quieten my stomach down a bit.
“It was interesting.”
“The Treasury is worth seeing, too. Everything the Sultans used was covered with jewels. Of course, a great many of the things were gifts from kings and emperors who wanted to impress the Sultans with their greatness. Even Queen Victoria sent things.”
“I know.” She chuckled. “Clocks and cut glass.”
“But some of the things are really incredible, Miss Lipp. There are coffee cups sculptured out of solid amethyst, and, you know, the largest emerald in the world is there on the canopy of one of the thrones. They even did mosaic work with rubies and emeralds instead of marble.” I went on to tell her about the gem-encrusted baldrics. I gave her the full treatment. In my experience every normal woman likes talking about jewels. But she didn’t seem much interested.
“Well,” she said, “they can’t be worth much.”
“All those hundreds and thousands of jewels, Miss Lipp!” My leg was getting stiff trying to stop the panel from vibrating. I wriggled surreptitiously into a new position.
She shrugged. “The guide told me that the reason they have to close some rooms on the days