“I see.”
Mr. Biggs’ brow cleared.
“But there was no more trouble on the voyage.”
Solar Pons smiled faintly.
“I am not surprised, Mr. Biggs. The Baron’s man, the false Inspector Achmed, appears to have been not only a powerful but a courageous and resourceful rascal. The man who tampered with that crate, probably a crew member, is undoubtedly at the bottom of the Mediterranean. Had the Cairo treasures been at the heart of the affair a determined attempt would undoubtedly have been made to prevent them from ever leaving Egypt. And what dealer would have handled such famous and well-known pieces?”
Mr. Biggs shuddered and took another sip of his whisky.
“A dreadful business, Mr. Pons. I should have been dead myself now but for your efforts.”
He caught the Inspector’s stony glare and hastened to add, “No reflection on your professional capacity, Inspector.”
Solar Pons exchanged a fleeting look with me and then went on.
“So here we have the mysterious cargo travelling in style with the Cairo artefacts and guarded by one of the Baron’s best men, disguised as an Egyptian police officer, complete with that unfortunate man’s genuine papers.
“As they had anticipated, all went well. The Museum authorities naturally put more store on the Cairo Museum treasures which were well guarded and went into the London Museum’s main strong-room, while the ordinary pots and other artefacts went to the Curator’s office. So they had had delivered to London with the minimum of fuss and no Customs examination, the biggest consignment of illicit drugs the capital had ever seen.
“Where the plan began to go wrong was in the way the crates were disposed. Instead of the commonplace artefacts being placed in the Museum store-rooms in the ordinary way, where they would have been easily accessible, they went straight to the Curator’s office. That would not have mattered except for the coincidence of there being two strong-rooms at the Museum. They could not have known this and to their dismay the crate marked with red paint went straight into a steel-lined chamber which was almost as impregnable as that of the Bank of England.”
“Of course, Pons!” I put in. “That was where the accomplices came in.”
“Naturally, Parker. I suspected from the beginning that two or three men at least would be involved and when Mr. Biggs told me of the mummy-apparition it was obvious. Mysterious events and confusion in the Museum would aid the miscreants in their purpose. By alarming Mr. Biggs they hoped to frighten him from the room so that they could get at the open strong-room and remove the jars before anyone returned. The man with the mummy-mask served a two-fold purpose, moreover, as the more confusion among staff and the more horrific the events, the more opportunity would they have in achieving their object. That much was evident.
“Now, Parker, when I examined that pottery earlier tonight I saw at once that there was but slight variation in weight between them, owing to the irregularity and the thickness of the clay-mixture used in throwing them all that time ago. But there were two things which stood out. One was that the ancient stoppers had been sealed with a modern chemical solution; there was no doubt about that, though the work had been skilfully done. And a number of the jars were slightly marked in a way so minute that it needed a magnifying glass to detect the tiny x which had been incised in the stoppers. I examined a number of jars and when I found that a large number had no chemical smell and that these did not bear such a tiny cross, it was obvious to me that the marked pots were the ones the intruders were looking for.”
“Remarkable, Mr. Pons,” broke in Jamison.
Solar Pons shook his head.
“Scientific, Inspector. When I examined the Museum records it was for the purpose of finding a member of the staff who had recently joined but who had the physique and strength to raise that jar and drop it in the murderous attempt on the Curator’s life. Morticott fitted the bill but he was Head Attendant, was obviously able and loyal and, moreover, had been at the Museum for fifteen years.
“In my experience people of that type are not suddenly tempted with an offer of money. Moreover, it would be obviously dangerous to approach that sort of man from outside and would quickly put the Museum authorities on their guard. I looked instead for a very big man who had recently joined the staff, banking on the fact that the Museum had recruited new people following the strange incidents and would not have had very much time to check on their records.”
“Absolutely correct, Mr. Pons,” put in Biggs, his eyes never leaving my companion’s face.
“I therefore turned my attention to the two newest men, Prendergast and Scott as being prime suspects, knowing also that more than one night-guard would have been involved in the mummy deception. It would have been highly risky otherwise, for the man in the next section could easily come across him before he had time to change back into his uniform. In the event this supposition turned out to be correct.”
“But what about the man with the acetylene-torch, Pons?” My companion shook his head.
“A hired specialist, Parker. Oh, someone cool of brains and a professional expert at his job, of course. Kroll’s people were getting worried and were evidently under pressure from the Baron. The murder of Kroll’s man, pushed under a bus by a member of the group seeking the drugs, was undoubtedly the catalyst.
“They resorted to crude methods. The only way to get access to their cargo was by eliminating the Curator and stealing the keys to the strong-room. This they attempted and it was only by a miracle that Mr. Biggs escaped that murderous attack. Wisely, he came immediately to me, with the conclusion we have seen. I expected some sort of diversion tonight but was almost taken off guard by the boldness of the methods used.”
Pons raked the room with his deep-set eyes.
“To me the whole idea of the Treasure of the Valley of the Kings was a non-starter. It was far too celebrated for such a coup and no-one in the world could handle such objects. So I concentrated on the sealed jars. Inspector Achmed was the key here and when Scotland Yard was informed that the real Chief Inspector had been murdered in Cairo and had never left the city it became clear that the jars were the real objective.
“But the plan went awry with the murder of the fake Achmed by members of the second group after the drugs, and it is doubtful whether we shall ever now know who was responsible. Kroll’s men panicked and made the crude attempt on Mr. Biggs’ life. Though if Mr. Biggs had been killed and Prendergast had seized the keys I have no doubt they would have had the consignment of narcotics out of the museum within half an hour.
“As members of the staff, recruited at short notice due to the Museum’s expanding activities, they were excellently placed to aid the bogus Inspector Achmed, who was obviously the guiding force behind the team, and the professional safe-man they had to employ in the end. The mummy-mask charade was merely to act as a cover for the real attempt to recover the drugs. These activities also served the useful object from their point of view by forcing the Museum to put an even stronger guard on the Cairo treasures and therefore further to deplete its thin staff while the actual plan, as we have seen, was in fact the opposite.
“Prendergast and Scott would have been able to let people into the Museum by a side door after hours and no doubt they would have succeeded in their objective had not the ill-advised attempt been made on the Curator’s life.”
Inspector Jamison was looking a little pink about the neck and cheeks.
“If you had reported these strange manifestations to me in the first place, Mr. Biggs,” he rumbled, “Scotland Yard might have put paid to the whole matter without bothering Mr. Pons.”