Vulture is a Patient Bird

Kahlenberg frowned.

"Oh, yes, I had forgotten. Tell him I will call back in five minutes."

Tak bowed and went away.

"I must apologize, Miss Desmond, but I regret I will now have to leave you to your own devices. I have work to do. I doubt if we will meet again before you leave. I am sorry about the photographs. I hope you enjoyed your dinner."

They got to their feet and both thanked him for his hospitality.

He looked at them with an odd expression in his eyes, nodded, then set his chair in motion and drove off the terrace, followed by Hindenburg.

Reaching his office, he found Tak waiting for him.

"Thank you, Tak, those two were beginning to bore me. Lovely looking woman, of course, but a play thing." He manoeuvred himself behind his desk. "They are being watched?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. And the other three?"

"The guide no longer exists. Fennel and Jones are on the balancing rock watching through field glasses. They have been in contact with Edwards by two-way radio. Their conversation was intercepted. Fennel is coming here on his own, leaving Jones where he is. Edwards thinks we suspect him and is taking precautions."

"Very wise of him. All right, Tak, you can go to your bungalow. I have some work to do, but intend to retire at my usual time. The rest of the staff can go."

Tak hesitated.

"Is it wise, sir?"

"The guards will be here and Hindenberg. Yes, it is all right." Kahlenberg looked thoughtfully at Tak. "It is much wiser that you don't have anything to do with this little affair. Good night."

"Good night, sir," and Tak went away.

Kahlenberg settled down to read a mass of papers that had come by the afternoon air delivery.

A little after half past ten, there came a soft tap on the door, Frowning, he called, "Come in."

Kemosa entered.

"What is it?"

"Zwide, one of the gardeners, master, is dead."

Kahlenberg raised his eyebrows.

"Dead? How did it happen? An accident?"

"I do not know, master. He complained of a headache and pains in his muscles. As he is always complaining, no one took any notice. Later he said his throat was on fire. A few minutes later, he fell down and died."

"Extraordinary thing. Well, bury him, Kemosa. I dare say his wife will be pleased. He is no loss."

Kemosa eyed his master, then bowed.

"I will have it done, master," and he went out, closing the door softly behind him.

Kahlenberg sat back in his chair. A little smile that gave him a devilish expression lit up his face.

So the Borgia ring was lethal.

Chapter Eight

When Gaye and Garry returned to their suite, they found all the windows and the doors leading to the terrace closed and the air conditioner in operation.

Garry went immediately to the terrace doors and tried to open them, but they were securely locked and the key had been removed. When he tried to open one of the windows, he found it immovable.

"Battened down for the night," he said, scratching his head. Now, how the hell is Fennel going to get in?"

"I thought you were being over optimistic. Is it likely they would leave all this open at night?" Gaye asked, sitting on the arm of a lounging chair. "What are you going to do?"

"Alert Fennel. It's his job to get in. Maybe he can cope with this lock." Garry looked at his watch. The time was 22.00 hrs. He sat down and looked across at Gaye. "We have an hour to wait. What did you think of Kahlenberg?"

Gaye grimaced.

"I didn't like him. I think he was bored with me and a man wh0 finds me boring can't expect to be my favourite person." She laughed. "What did you think of him?"

"He's dangerous," Garry said soberly. "I'll go further than that. I get the feeling, watching him, he isn't quite sane. I still have the idea we have walked into a trap. But as we're here, we'd be nuts not to have a go at the ring. I wonder if he was lying when he said the grounds weren't patrolled at night. I'll have to warn Fennel to be careful as he comes."

"You don't think he's sane . . . what do you mean?"

"There's something about his eyes . . . I'm not saying he is mad, but off balance."

"I'm sure you're imagining all this, Garry. I can't believe he could have let us see the museum if he really suspected us. I think he is soured by being a cripple, and if he was distant, then it was probably due to that . . . for all you know, he may be in pain."

"You could be right," Garry shrugged. "But the whole set-up seems to me too easy."

"Are you going to check on the elevator?"

"Of course. If it isn't working, I don't see how we can get at the door of the museum. I'll wait half an hour, then I'll go out and see." He got up, crossed to the door and opened it. He looked down the deserted corridor. It was lighted, and in the far distance he could see the end of it terminating in double doors. "No one about." He returned to the lounge, closing the door. "Could be tricky. If Tak or one of the servants come out of any of those rooms while I'm out there, I'm fixed. A fly couldn't hide out there."

"You can always say you're walking in your sleep."

Garry frowned at her.