Herring on the Nile (20 page)

Tom, however, showed no inclination to rest. He winked at me, and we went quietly out on deck.

‘Sorry. It gives me the creeps to know I’m in there with a murderer,’ said Tom.

‘It’s not that much better out here,’ I said. ‘There’s nowhere much to get away on a boat like this.’

‘That’s what makes the whole thing so odd. It’s not what a normal person would do, unless they really didn’t care about being found out. Maybe we still have a terrorist
here on the boat. Or somebody who had wanted to kill this Purbright or Raffles so much and for so long that they were prepared to risk it.’

‘Nobody seems to fit either of those categories,’ I said. ‘The fact that Lizzi Hull says she could understand why somebody would be a suicide bomber doesn’t make her one.
Sky Benson is worried about something but I’m not sure her hand is steady enough for murder. Campion is desperate to get the gun back for some reason but doesn’t strike me as a
cold-blooded killer. Of course there’s still Annabelle. Maybe she should be locked in the bilges or the lee scuppers or whatever the nastiest bit of the boat is, just until we’ve worked
out who did it.’

‘Well,
somebody
certainly fired the gun,’ said Tom, ignoring my very good suggestion.

‘Do you think it’s still there in the cabin?’ I asked.

‘I doubt that Majid and Mahmoud had time to collect it. Captain Bashir has bigger problems on his mind . . .’

I looked at Tom and he looked at me.

‘Why don’t we go check?’ he said. ‘Just in case.’

‘Baikal Margo,’ he said, being careful not to add his fingerprints to available evidence. ‘Russian. Semi-automatic. Nice and accurate, and this is the version with the
shortened barrel – easier to conceal. Maybe not what you would expect a terrorist to use – it’s a bit old and only carries five rounds. Interesting choice of murder weapon. I
still don’t understand why anyone would just dump it in the cabin though. Why not try to get rid of it properly? And, thinking about it, here’s another odd thing: no silencer. If you
were planning to kill somebody on a boat like this, you’d pack a silencer in your suitcase, wouldn’t you?’

‘Maybe they threw the silencer overboard?’ I suggested.

‘Then why not throw the gun too? But the shot was heard from some way off – so clearly no silencer was used. It would seem that whoever used this was not worried about guns being
noisy. After all, they had no way of knowing that the engines would blow just as the shots were being fired. And we had two policemen on board.’

‘You’re back to their being policemen?’

Tom shook his head. ‘No, not really. It’s true they didn’t act like terrorists. They didn’t plant explosive on the boat before saying goodbye. But they didn’t act
much like policemen either. And they have gone off and left us all stranded. Actually, taking Ethelred like that doesn’t make much sense whatever they are. Nor does taking the body. Maybe
taking Ethelred away is some sort of elaborate ploy? The real killer relaxes his guard, Majid and Mahmoud come back, and this time they catch the right guy.’

‘That’s a bit far-fetched,’ I said. ‘Why would they think that would work?’

‘Yeah. I guess I’ll believe that was the plan only when they return with Ethelred,’ said Tom. ‘Kidnappers who did that would either be stupid or very devious
indeed.’

Twenty-two

I dialled the number that Purbright had given me earlier. Once again the call was answered immediately with a simple ‘Yes?’

‘It’s me,’ I said. ‘Ethelred Tressider.’

‘Don’t worry, Ethelred. Keep your head down. Our people are close to the boat. They should be with you in ten minutes or so. If you have a view of the river, you might be able to see
them.’

‘I’m not on the boat any more,’ I said.

‘Where are you?’

‘I don’t know. I’ve been taken to somewhere out in the desert. Mahmoud and Majid are with me.’

‘Are you a hostage?’

‘I guess so.’

‘They let you keep your mobile?’

‘They’ve returned it to me so I can make this call.’

‘They know you are phoning us? I’m not sure I like this. What are they up to? Are they in a position to track where you are calling to?’

‘I hadn’t really thought – but there doesn’t seem to be any high-tech equipment out here.’

‘That doesn’t mean there isn’t any. You should assume you’re being listened to at all times, as a matter of course.’

‘Two of them are standing beside me.’

‘Then we’ll keep this very short, please. What do they want?’

‘They want to return me to the
Khedive
. I’m not such a useful hostage as they thought. I have to pass on the message to you that your men should not fire at us as we
approach.’

‘Anything else?’

‘They want to speak to you.’

‘OK, but make it quick.’

I looked at Majid and Mahmoud.

‘I will speak to them,’ said Mahmoud.

‘No, leave it to me,’ said Majid, intercepting the phone.

For a moment Majid and Mahmoud glared at each other and, with a sinking feeling, I realized that Mahmoud might already be onto Majid. He wasn’t going to be allowed to pass on any coded
messages – or he would have to be very clever if he did.

‘Hello,’ said Majid. He listened for a moment and then said: ‘Yes, that’s right.’

Mahmoud was clearly still unhappy, but Majid shook his head and turned away from him.

‘We have a Mr Tressider in our possession,’ said Majid into the phone. ‘We’re going to let you have him back, as a gesture of goodwill. I need your word that you will
allow us to approach the boat without undue let or hindrance. It’s cold out on the river at this time of year and he would wish to come in as speedily as possible, as I might too under the
circumstances. We will approach quickly, drop him off and then depart as rapidly as we can.’

Majid listened again and eventually said: ‘You have understood me precisely. Given those kind assurances, we shall set out now. My colleagues will be trusting you to keep to your side of
the bargain. You should be aware that they will be well armed, just in case there is anyone who thinks it would be a good plan to fire on our boat before or after the handover.’ He terminated
the call abruptly and handed me back my phone. ‘Sorted,’ he said.

It was perhaps ten minutes later. The small group that had brought me out had been reassembled to take me back. I was to be blindfolded again for the first part of the trip.

Mahmoud had been sent – or had elected to come – to fetch me. Again I got the impression that he suspected Majid and was trying to keep me away from him until we were on the
boat.

It was odd. At first, the two of them had seemed, both to Elsie and to me, almost interchangeable. Only gradually had I got to know them. Mahmoud was not only the taller, but also the suaver,
more urbane of the two. But behind the courteous exterior was a hardened and utterly ruthless terrorist. Majid conversely was more taciturn, slightly diffident, with a pleasant, almost shy, smile.
Underneath there was steely resolve here too, but I could detect none of the cruelty that I was now sure Mahmoud was capable of. It was reassuring that I had Majid on my side. I would not have
trusted Mahmoud, whatever he had told me. It amused me to think that, once back on the
Khedive
, I would be able to give M16 a very good description of Mahmoud – one that would ensure
that he could not operate openly again in Egypt or the UK.

‘Do you think you are really going to get away with this?’ I asked.

‘In the short term, you had better hope we do,’ said Mahmoud. ‘For the next hour or so, your safety and ours depend on much the same factors. Later perhaps not, but later we
must all look after ourselves.’

‘Just in case neither of us makes it, I’m mildly curious to know:
Did
you shoot Purbright?’

‘No,’ said Mahmoud. ‘We did not shoot Purbright. Any other final questions?’

‘Also just curiosity, really: What made you get mixed up with terrorists?’ I asked.

Mahmoud gave me a smile that might have meant anything. ‘I wish I could remember,’ he said eventually. ‘It must have seemed like a good idea at the time. Still, on the plus
side, you don’t need to buy many ties.’

Twenty-three

‘So, this is where you all are!’ Miss Watson, brandy glass in hand and slightly unsteady, in spite of the lack of any motion at all on the part of the
Khedive
, approached the spot that Tom and I had located for continuing our confidential chat. We had left the gun where it was, but were still speculating on who might have had the skill to
use it.

‘Good evening, Jane,’ said Tom, with his usual politeness. He and I might have been discussing Keats for all he gave away.

‘Bloody awful evening,’ she said and leaned against the rail.

‘They’re serving brandy now, are they?’

‘You know what the crew are like. It would take more than a murder to disrupt normal service. They’ll probably whip you up some scrambled egg if you’re feeling
peckish.’

Tom yawned and rubbed his hands together. ‘It’s getting pretty chilly out here,’ he said. ‘I’m going in to get some coffee. Are you going to join me,
Elsie?’

I was about to agree that coffee would be good, when Jane Watson put her hand on my arm and said: ‘You go ahead, Tom. We girls will stay here and chat a bit more.’

When Tom had gone, I said to her: ‘So what do we girls chat about then?’

Jane Watson tried to take another gulp of brandy, but discovered it had all gone. ‘They talk about what bastards men are,’ she said. ‘There are other things, but that’s
generally a good start. Don’t get involved with them.’

Most of the men I meet on a regular basis are authors, so I am not subjected to a great deal of temptation in that respect. Still, I wasn’t planning to disagree with what was basically
good advice.

‘Tom seems nice enough,’ I said.

‘Don’t get your hopes up. He’s gay,’ she said.

I hadn’t thought too much about it, but (now I did) I had to admit he probably took too much interest in classic Broadway musicals.

‘Maybe,’ I said.

‘And, just because he’s gay, it doesn’t mean you can trust him. He’s still a man.’

‘I feel safe enough with him,’ I said.

‘Really? Isn’t Tom’s father supposed to be a New York mobster – a bit like this Raffles guy?’

‘John says so – but it’s only a joke, surely?’

‘Tom says John’s father was a Nixon aide – that’s true, or there was a Nixon aide with that surname. It’s not all joking with those two.’

‘You’re not saying they were mixed up in the shooting?’

‘You know where I was when the shot was fired, and I know where you were, but can we trust anyone else on this boat?’

‘But Tom’s so
nice
,’ I pointed out.

‘The most devious people are,’ said Miss Watson.

I thought again of Annabelle, there in the saloon slumbering the sleep of the undetected. I was wondering whether to tell my new buddy Jane all about it when she pointed to a dark spot in the
middle of the river that was heading towards us at some speed.

‘It looks like the good guys are finally coming to rescue us,’ she said.

Or the bad guys were coming back to finish us off, of course. That too was a distinct possibility.

Twenty-four

I had, as I say, been blindfolded for the journey from the hut to the boat. This time the trip had been short, suggesting that our arrival had been by a deliberately circuitous
route, either to avoid police surveillance or simply to add confusion as to where I had been. Since one bit of desert looked much like another, the subterfuge appeared redundant – at least to
me.

Seven of us were now squeezed into the boat, all heavily armed, except for one crime writer. Majid nonchalantly lowered an old attaché case into the boat at the last minute.
Mahmoud’s attention was at that moment on the Nile and the first tinge of dawn on the horizon. But it seemed impossible to me that the case would be unnoticed for the whole trip or, even if
it was, that it could be passed to me without everyone seeing clearly what was being done. This game of bluff and counter-bluff was complex. What had Mahmoud already been told? What was really in
the case? I thought I could trust Majid. But if I couldn’t, then I was pretty much dead anyway. I simply had to trust him.

Majid said something to Mahmoud in Arabic and got a short and acerbic response. One of the other men laughed at the exchange, but the rest looked grim. Mahmoud cast off and pushed the boat away
from the bank. The boat’s engine again roared into life and we were away.

Travelling downstream now we made much faster time than we had before and the
Khedive
was in sight very quickly, still wedged sideways on in the middle of the river. We slowed when about
half a mile away to allow Mahmoud to scan the decks with his binoculars.

‘We do indeed have company,’ he said. ‘There seems to be a boat tied up alongside the
Khedive
. But otherwise there is no sign of life. I have no wish to get gunned down
doing a good deed. I want you to phone the number you had again and make sure that our deal remains valid.’

As before my call was answered quickly and briefly.

‘It’s Ethelred,’ I said.

‘Where are you?’

‘Within sight of the
Khedive
.’

‘Good. We assumed that was you out there. Can you talk freely?’

‘No,’ I said.

‘OK, I understand.’

‘But if you can see us, that means you are already on board the
Khedive
?’

‘Yes. Tell your friends to approach slowly and tie up against our own boat, then transfer you across. After that, they have three minutes to get out of range before we open fire. We
don’t trust them hanging around the
Khedive
.’