Vulture Is a Patient Bird Read online

She handled two assignments not only successfully, but with a polish that delighted Shalik. The first assignment was to obtain a chemical formula required by a rival company. The second assignment was to obtain advance information about a big shipping merger which netted the client a considerable profit on the Stock Market: part of which he handed to Shalik. In both cases, Gaye had had to sleep with the two men who supplied the information required. Shalik asked for no details. He was only too pleased to turn the information she gave him into cash.

  Now, she had worked for him for six months and she had more than earned her basic salary.

  Delighted with her, he had sent her off on a skiing vacation. He was sure she hadn’t gone alone, but what was left of her private life was no concern of his. Then the Borgia ring affair came up and he had sent a telegram to Gstaad telling her to return immediately.

  She returned by the first available aircraft and when she walked into his office, burned golden brown by the Swiss sun, her tawny hair around her shoulders, Shalik thought she looked magnificent.

  He explained about the Borgia ring and was pleased by her interest.

  “You will like Natal,” he said. “The country is splendid. The three men who will work with you are all experts and should present no difficulties for you.” He stared at his evenly burning cigar. “I think I should warn you that there are risks. Kahlenberg is dangerous.”

  She shrugged her beautiful shoulders. Her smile was confident.

  “Many men are dangerous,” she said quietly, “so are many women.”

  As Gaye Desmond paused beside Shalik, the three men got to their feet. While Shalik introduced them, Gaye regarded them searchingly. She liked the look of Kennedy Jones. She decided he was harmless and would be easy to handle and could be fun. Her green eyes swept over Fennel. This man was not only dangerous but he could be tricky to handle. Her experience of men and the expression in his washed out grey eyes as he looked at her, told her sooner or later, there would have to be a showdown with him. Then she took in Garry Edwards who was looking at her with an appreciative expression that she found flattering and pleasing. He was all right, she decided. Well, they were a mixed bunch to travel with, but at least two of them could be handled. The fat one was bound to be a nuisance.

  “This is Miss Gaye Desmond… our Trojan Horse,” Shalik said.

  “That I love,” Gaye laughed. “I would rather be Helen than the horse.”

  “Sit down, please.” Shalik drew up a chair for Gaye. “Miss Desmond will travel with you. You will be flying to Johannesburg on Tuesday. I have arranged for your rooms at the Rand. International hotel. You will stay there until Mr. Jones has organized the expedition. I have also arranged for the hire of a helicopter which Miss Desmond and Mr. Edwards will use.” He touched ash off his cigar, then went on, “I have managed to obtain a certain amount of information about Kahlenberg’s place, but none of this information is completely reliable. Before you can hope to get at the ring, it is essential for Miss Desmond to get into Kahlenberg’s house and check the information I have obtained: this information is to do with various security measures and where the museum is located. Miss Desmond will pose as a professional photographer after wild game. I have arranged that she is credited to Animal World which is a sound, small American magazine for whom I have done past favours. It is possible that Kahlenberg might check, and it would be stupid not to be covered. Mr. Edwards will be her professional pilot. A helicopter is the ideal machine from which to get photographs of wild animals. Kahlenberg has an airfield. You two…” Here Shalik looked at Gaye and Garry, “will land on the airfield. Your story will be that you saw the house from the air and can you take photographs? You will be refused, of course, but I am certain Kahlenberg will want to meet Miss Desmond.”

  “But suppose he doesn’t?” Garry said.

  Shalik frowned at him.

  “I said I was certain, and that means he will. I don’t use words lightly.” The snub administered, Shalik went on, “I have no idea where the museum is. I imagine it must be somewhere in the house which is a vast one storey building. As the museum contains many stolen treasures, it will be well hidden and well guarded. One of my agents in Durban, some eight years ago, happened to be watching a ship unload and noticed a considerable number of crates coming ashore with Kahlenberg’s name on them. Knowing I was interested in Khalenberg, he investigated. The crates came from Bahlstrom of Sweden who you may know are the best safe makers and security experts in the world.” He glanced at Fennel. “Am I telling you anything new?”

  Fennel grinned.

  “I know all about Bahlstrom. Years ago, I worked for them. They are good.”

  “Yes, Mr. Fennel,” Shalik said. “This is the main reason why I am hiring you.” He again touched off his cigar ash and continued, “Fortunately, my agent was intelligent. He obtained a copy of the invoices from the shipping agent at some cost and sent it to me. I give it to you now to examine. It is possible with your knowledge of Bahlstrom’s security system and with these invoices, you may get some idea of Kahlenberg’s security setup.” He handed a plastic envelope to Fennel who glanced at it and then shoved it in his hip pocket. “You have until Monday morning to let me know what you think.”

  “Okay,” Fennel said, crossing one fat leg over the other. “I’ll tell you.”

  Shalik turned to Garry.

  “Mr. Edwards, I have aerial maps of the Drakensberg range and of Kahlenberg’s estate.” Again another plastic envelope passed across the desk. “I will want you to tell me if you can land the helicopter from a place chosen by Mr. Jones on the Kahlenberg airfield. This we will also discuss on Monday.”

  Garry nodded, taking the envelope.

  Shalik now turned to Kennedy Jones.

  “You will be responsible for fitting out the expedition and for transport. You and Mr. Fennel will go by road while Miss Desmond and Mr. Edwards fly. You can spend what you like but you must insure against the many difficulties which you could meet on the way in. The route to Kahlenberg’s estate is exceptionally difficult at this season when the rains can be expected. But this is your affair. You will also have to find a way through the circle of Zulus who guard the approaches. You are the expert, so I don’t propose making any suggestions.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Jones said.

  “Well then, we will have our final meeting on Monday,” Shalik said. “We will then clear up the final details. Any questions?”

  Fennel leaned forward.

  “How about some money? We are being paid nine thousand each for this caper, but how about something in advance?”

  Shalik made a grimace that could pass for as a smile.

  “I was expecting that request from you.” He took from a drawer four envelopes and handing One to Gaye, he passed the other three across his desk. “You will find in each envelope blank Travellers Cheques to the total of $3,000. When you have successfully completed your mission, you will get the balance.” He glanced at his gold Omega. “Then we meet here at 09.30 hrs. on Monday.”

  Gaye left the room by the door behind Shalik. Garry and Ken Jones watched her going with regret. They started towards the far door as Fennel got to his feet.

  “Mr. Fennel…”

  Fennel looked at Shalik.

  “There are a few additional things to discuss without wasting the time of these other gentlemen,” Shalik said quietly.

  Fennel shrugged and sat down again. Shalik waved to the other two, dismissing them.

  When they had gone, Shalik selected another cigar, clipped the end and lit it while he looked stonily at Fennel.

  “It is necessary, Mr. Fennel, to have a straight talk with you. Your two companions have both served jail sentences, but you can hardly describe them as criminals. However, you are not only a criminal, but a dangerous and vicious one. I have selected you for this operation because of your expertise, but don’t imagine I am ignorant of your criminal background. I know you are on the run and anxious to get out of England. You betra
yed five criminals in order to reduce your own sentence and the leader of this gang — a man called Moroni — has sworn to kill you. An attempt was made last night, but failed. The second attempt might not fail.” Shalik paused to stare at Fennel who was now sitting up straight, his eyes glittering. “So from what I am telling you, Mr. Fennel, you will see I keep myself well informed about the people I employ. Now I have received additional information about you. You are wanted for three vicious murders in Hong Kong, Cairo and Istanbul. Two of your victims were females: the third was a male prostitute. I have evidence of these crimes that Interpol would gladly receive. Does all this that I am telling you, Mr. Fennel, interest you?”

  Fennel moistened his lips with his tongue.

  “Are you threatening me? I got the idea we are working together.”

  “Yes… we are working together, but that doesn’t mean I can’t threaten you. There are two things you are to keep constantly in mind.” Shalik pointed his cigar at Fennel. “The first point is you will leave Gaye Desmond strictly alone. As soon as she came into this room, your disgusting mind began to wonder about her. You were thinking that in the African bush you would have opportunities to behave in the animal way that comes naturally to you. So I am warning you: try something like that with Miss Desmond, and I promise you Interpol will have your dossier from me. Is that clear?”

  Fennel forced an uneasy grin.

  “You hold the aces,” he said with an attempt at bravado. “You are reading me wrong, but okay, so she is like my mother.”

  Shalik grimaced.

  “If you will excuse the personal remark… I feel sorry for your mother.”

  Fennel gave a hard, barking laugh.

  “You don’t have to. She was one of the smartest thieves in the racket. If you want to be sorry for anyone, be sorry for my old man. He cut this throat when they put my mother away for ten years.”

  “I am not interested in your family history,” Shalik said curtly. “My second point is this. I want this ring. The operation won’t be easy, but a man of your experience and ruthlessness should be able to handle it. However, if you fail, I see no reason why I shouldn’t pass your dossier to Interpol… so you must understand that I will not tolerate failure.”

  Fennel bared his teeth in a snarling grin.

  “I’ll get the goddam ring for you, but if so much depends on me, how about some extra money?”

  “I will consider that when I have the ring. Now get out!”

  Fennel stared at him, but Shalik was reaching for the telephone. As he began to dial a number, Fennel got up and went into the inner room where Natalie Norman was typing. He didn’t look at her, but went out into the corridor and to the lift.

  When he had gone, and when she was satisfied she could hear Shalik talking on the telephone, she turned off the hidden tape- recorder and removed the spool.

  Garry shut himself in a telephone booth and called Toni who answered immediately.

  “We’re celebrating, chicken,” he said. “I’m hungry. Meet me at the Rib Room, Carlton Towers in exactly one hour from this minute,” and he hung up cutting off her squeal of excitement.

  He knew he had to give her at least an hour to get ready. Toni was a languid and slow dresser. By the time he reached the Rib Room he was pleasantly high, having drunk four vodka martinis in the bar of the Royal Towers Hotel.

  Ken Jones had left him, saying he had a date with a girl friend. They had paused in the crowded lobby of the hotel and Jones had asked, “What do you think of it all?”

  “It’s a job and the money’s nice,” Garry returned. “You and I will get along. I feel that. It’s Fennel…”

  Jones grinned.

  “What are you worrying about? You have Gorgeous and a chopper. I have Fennel.”

  “Well, watch him.”

  “You bet… so long, see you Monday. Happy bed bouncing,” and Jones went off into the cold, wet night.

  Toni, looking ravishing, turned up at the Rib Room just when Garry was losing patience.

  “I’m damn well starving,” he complained. “You’re late!”

  “I know, sweetie, but I just can’t help it.” She flicked her long eyelashes at him. “Like me?”

  But now Garry had met Gaye Desmond, Toni White seemed suddenly a little young, trying a little too hard, and less exciting.

  “You’re wonderful.” The four martinis gave his voice conviction.

  They moved into the restaurant. As they sat down, Toni asked, “So you got the job?”

  “You don’t imagine we would be here if I hadn’t?”

  “Let’s order and then you tell me, huh?”

  “Don’t say huh… only American businessmen say that.” Toni giggled.

  “God! I’m starving too! Let’s order quickly.”

  The maitre d’hôtel came over. Garry ordered a dozen 0ysters each with a half bottle of Chablis, followed by the Scotch beef with a baked potato in jacket and a bottle of Batailley 1961. The dessert, it was decided, should be a lemon sorbet.

  “Mmmmmm!” Toni purred. “This job must be marvellous. You do realize this is going to cost a f-o-r-t-u-n-e?”

  “So what? I’m worth a fortune.” Under the cover of the table, Garry slid his hand up Toni’s mini skirt, but she clamped her legs together.

  “Mr. Edwards! I’m surprised at you!” she said.

  Garry disengaged his hand.

  “I’m continually surprising myself, Miss White.”

  The oysters arrived.

  “Well, tell me… what is the job?” Toni asked as she cut a fat oyster from its shell. “God! I adore oysters!”

  “Don’t be greedy,” Garry said, forking an oyster into his mouth. “It’s never becoming for a young and sexy girl to sound greedy.”

  “Shut up! Tell me about the job.”

  “Well, it’s a dilly. I go to Natal, and as your geography is as dodgy as mine, Natal is somewhere in South Africa. I lug an American photographer around in a helicopter so she can take photos of wild animals. It is a three week assignment and the money is very acceptable.”

  Toni’s oyster hovered before her mouth. She looked searchingly at Garry who avoided her eyes.

  “She? You mean you are flying a woman around jungles for three weeks?”

  “That’s it,” Garry said carelessly. “Now don’t start getting into a state. I’ve met her. She’s around forty-five, looks pregnant, and is the type who slaps you on the back and picks her teeth immediately after a meal.”

  Toni stared at him.

  “But that sounds horrible.”

  “Doesn’t it? Still the money is good and after all she could have had a beard and a wooden leg, couldn’t she?”

  Toni nodded and attacked another oyster.

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  There was a long silence while the waiter removed the debris and a longer silence while the beef was served.

  Garry stole a look at her face and then grimaced. Hell! he thought, she knows I’m lying. Now what am I going to do?

  He said gently, “Toni, darling, have you got something on your mind?”

  “Should I have?” She didn’t look at him but concentrated on her beef. “They have here the most marvellous beef in the world.”

  “I wouldn’t say in the world. I remember in Hong Kong…”

  “Never mind Hong Kong. Please tell me how much you are being paid to convey a pregnant woman around the jungle.”

  “I didn’t say she was pregnant, I said she looks pregnant. Not quite the same thing.”

  “How much?”

  “Three thousand dollars,” Garry lied.

  “Well, that’s very nice. So you will be away for three weeks?”

  “Yes.”

  Toni continued to eat. There was a dazed expression in her eyes that began to bother Garry.

  “I hear Natal is pretty interesting,” he said. “It could be quite a trip.”

  “Shall we try to enjoy our dinner, Garry? This is the first time I’ve been to the Rib
Room.”

  “I thought we were enjoying it. Are you trying to be dramatic?”

  Her long lashes flickered at him, then she dug into her baked potato.

  “Please let us enjoy something even if we can’t enjoy each other.”

  That spoilt his meal. Impatiently he pushed aside his plate and

  lit a cigarette. Toni ate slowly, obviously enjoying the beef. They said nothing until she had finished, then when the waiter had removed the plates, Garry said, “Just what the hell has suddenly bit you, Toni? This is supposed to be a celebration.”

  “I love sorbets. Queen Victoria used to stuff sorbets down the throats of all her over-stuffed guests half-way through the menu. The sorbets allowed them to go on stuffing.”

  “I didn’t know you were so well educated, darling. I asked what is biting you.”

  The lemon sorbets arrived. Garry, in a fit of frustrated rage, crushed his cigarette in the ice.

  “Is that how you feel, Mr. Oxfam?” Toni asked, spooning ice into her pretty mouth.

  “Look, Toni, I don’t know what’s come over you, but this has turned into a drag.”

  “Has it?” She put down her spoon. “Garry, dear, I am always asking myself how it is I land up with a lover who lies to me. It is beginning to bore me.”

  They stared at each other.

  “Women who are able to spot my lies bore me too,” Garry said quietly.

  “There it is.” Toni lifted her hands helplessly. “Damn you, I love you. Let’s get out of here and go home and have sex.”

  He paid the bill without shuddering with one of the $50 Travellers’ Cheques Shalik had given him.

  In the taxi, Toni sat away from him, putting her feet up on the tip-up seat.

  “This photographer… she’s marvellous, isn’t she?” she asked. “Darling Garry, don’t lie to me… tell me.”

  He watched the street lights and the rain beating on the pavement, and he sighed. “Okay… yes… she’s marvellous.”

  Toni’s small, pretty face tightened with misery.

  “Will you be coming back, Garry?”

  “Now look, Toni…”

  “I’m asking you… will you be coming back to me?”

  He hesitated, thinking of the tawny-haired woman who now filled his mind.