Vulture is a Patient Bird

As the minutes crawled by, Gaye became more and more uneasy and restless. She prowled around the luxurious lounge wondering how Fennel was getting on. It was now nearly two hours since they had left the lounge. She kept telling herself Fennel had said it might be a four hour job. She wished now she had gone with them. This long wait was getting on her nerves.

Then she heard a gentle tap on the door. Thinking it was Garry, she hastened across the lounge and opened the door. She was confronted by a Zulu who towered above her, the overhead light making his black skin glisten and the blade of his assigai flash.

She stifled a scream and stepped hurriedly back, her hand going to her mouth. The Zulu glared at her, his eyes like wet stones.

"You come with me," he growled and *stepped aside.

"What do you want?" Gaye asked, her voice husky with shock.

"The Master wants you . . . come!"

She hesitated. So Garry had been right after all, she thought, they had walked into a trap. By now she was recovering from her shock. There was nothing else to do but to obey, and lifting her head high, she walked out into the corridor.

The Zulu pointed to the double doors at the far end of the corridor with his assigai.

She knew it was useless to try to escape so she walked down the corridor, followed by the Zulu.

When she finally reached the double doors, they swung open automatically. Without looking at the Zulu, she walked into Kahlenberg's office, her heart thumping and her mouth dry.

At the far end of the vast room, Kahlenberg was sitting at his desk, a cigarette between his fingers, Hindenburg at his side.

"Ah, Miss Desmond," he said, looking up. "Please come and join me. I am watching something of great interest."

As she moved around the desk, she saw the small TV set was on. Kahlenberg waved to a chair near his, away from Hindenburg who hadn't taken his eyes off her since she had entered the room.

"Sit down and look at this."

She sat down, folding her hands in her lap and looked at the lighted screen. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Fennel kneeling in front of the door leading to the museum.

"I believe he is actually defeating my beautiful lock," Kahllenberg said. "The makers assured me no one could do it."

Fennel suddenly sat back on his heels.

"I've done it!" he exclaimed. His voice, slightly muffled, came through the speaker well enough.

Then Garry moved into the picture.

"Your friend is clever," Kahlenberg said. Although he spoke mildly, his eyes glittered angrily. "I didn't believe he could do it, but as you see, he has done it."

Gaye said nothing.

"Usually, we immobilize the lift," Kahlenberg went on, leaning back in his chair, his eyes still on the screen. "But I was interested to see if this expert could break in. I will have to talk seriously with the makers. This won't do at all."

They watched Fennel and Garry enter the museum. The picture changed to another angle as Kahlenberg reached forward and pressed a button on the set.

"I didn't want to alarm your friends so I didn't operate this set until they were satisfied it wasn't operating," Kahlenberg went on. Now I fear they are in for a disappointment and a surprise."

The picture showed the two men staring at the pedestal in the lighted alcove.

Gaye heard Fennel say, "What is it?"

Leaning forward, Kahlenberg turned off the set.

"They will be here in a few minutes, Miss Desmond," he said. He reached for a gold cigarette box and offered it. "A cigarette?"

"Thank you." Gaye took a cigarette and accepted a light. "By the way, how is Mr. Shalik?"

If he had expected to startle her, he was disappointed. Her face was expressionless as she said, "Last time I saw him, he seemed very well."

"He continues to concoct his miserable little swindles?"

"I really don't know. He always seems to be busy, but just what he does I have no idea."

"It is time he was stopped for good." The flash of fire in Kahlenberg's eyes made her remember that Garry had thought this man was unbalanced. "He is developing into a nuisance."

"Do you think so? I should have thought he is no more of a nuisance than others," Gaye said coolly. "After all, Mr. Kahlenberg, surely you are birds of a feather?"

Kahlenberg's eyes narrowed slightly.

"What makes you say that, Miss Desmond?"

"Mr. Tak tells me everything in your museum is an original. I don't imagine the authorities of Florence would have sold you the Ghiberti panel or the Bernini David. I do know you stole the Borgia ring. Surely you are just as much a nuisance to the curators of various museums as Mr. Shalik is to you."

Kahlenberg smiled.

"Yes, I admit everything in my museum has been stolen, but there is a reason. I appreciate beautiful things. I need beauty. I am too busy to visit Europe so I prefer to have my beauty here where I can see it when I have the inclination. But Shalik only plots for money, not beauty. He lives for money as I live for beauty. I intend to stop him."