Taking Gaye’s hand in his, he ran silently down the corridor and back to their suite.
“Well, it works,” he said, closing the door. Now everything depends on whether Fennel can get in and then, of course, if he can open the door to the museum.”
After waiting a quarter of an hour, Garry picked up the two- way radio.
Fennel answered immediately.
Garry explained the situation and told Fennel the elevator was working. Fennel said there were still lights showing in the windows of the two extreme wings of the house.
“The light on the right is mine,” Garry said. “The other light is from Kahlenberg’s quarters.”
“The left wing light has gone out,” Fennel reported. “The only light now showing is where you are.”
“Kahlenberg told me the grounds aren’t patrolled, Lew,” Garry said, “but I don’t trust him. Take your time and use every scrap of cover as you come. There could be some of the Zulu guards around.”
“I’ll watch it. I’ll start now. It’ll take me a good half-hour to get to you. Ken will remain here until we signal him.”
“Roger… out,” and Garry switched off. Turning to Gaye, he went on, “He’s on his way now. All the other lights have gone out.” He crossed to the bedside lamps and turned them on, then he turned off the ceiling lights. Going to the window, he peered into the darkness. The big moon was partially hidden by clouds, but after a few moments, his eyes became used to the darkness and he could make out the terrace furniture and beyond the beds of flowers.
“We could be flying back to Mainville in a couple of hours,” Gaye said. “I’m going to change.”
She went into the bedroom, took off the sari and put on her shirt and shorts. When she returned to the lounge, she found Garry had also changed. They sat on the bed, looking through the window, waiting for Fennel.
The minutes dragged by. Both of them were keyed up as they sat, waiting. After what seemed an age, Garry put his hand on Gaye’s arm.
“He’s here.” He got to his feet and went to the window.
Fennel came out of the darkness and paused at the window and nodded. He lowered his tool kit to the ground and came to the terrace doors. With the aid of a pencil flash light, he examined the lock. Looking at Garry, he jerked up his thumb, then reached for his tool kit.
In a few minutes, the terrace doors swung open. Picking up his tool kit, Fennel moved into the lounge. He ignored Gaye as if she wasn’t in the room. Turning to Garry, he said, “Been doing yourself well, huh?” He looked around the room. “Ken and I certainly caught the crappy end of this stick, didn’t we?”
“Tough,” Garry said, smiling. “Never mind. You’ll recover.”
Fennel gave him an evil look, then turned away. Seeing the mood he was in, Gaye watched him, but didn’t speak.
“Where’s the lift?” Fennel asked. “This job could take me three or four hours.”
Garry turned to Gaye.
“You’d better stay here if it’s going to take that long.” She nodded.
“All right.”
“How about the TV snoopers?” Fennel asked.
“They’re there in the museum, but I’ve no idea where the monitor-room is or if anyone keeps watch at night.”
Fennel flushed with rage.
“Your job was to find out!” he snarled.
Garry went to the door, opened it and beckoned to Fennel.
“Take a look… there are about thirty-five doors down that corridor. It could be behind any one of them. We can’t walk in and check. Did you see any Zulus as you came through the garden?”
“No. What’s that to do with it?”
“The chances are if they aren’t patrolling the grounds, they don’t keep watch at night on the TV monitor.”
“If they do, we’re sunk.”
“There it is. Have you any ideas how we can check?”
Fennel thought, then shrugged.
“It could be anywhere… could be in one of the huts away from the house.” He hesitated. “It’s taking a hell of a chance.”
“We either take the chance or we leave without the ring.”
“Will you take the chance?” Fennel demanded.
“Sure, if you will.”
“Then let’s go.”
They moved silently into the corridor, leaving Gaye still sitting on the bed. A few minutes later, they were descending in the lift. When they reached the vaulted chamber, Garry pointed to the TV lens in the ceiling.
“There it is.”
Fennel moved under the lens and peered at it. Then he sucked in a deep breath.
“It’s not operating.”
“Sure?”
“Yeah.”
Garry wiped his sweating hands on the seats of his shorts.
“There’s the door to the museum. Do you want me to do anything?”
Fennel went to the door and examined the dial and the lock.
“No… just leave it to me. It’s going to take time, but I can get it open.” He opened his tool kit and laid out a selection of tools on the floor. Garry went over to a high-backed leather chair and sat down. He lit a cigarette and tried to contain his impatience.
Fennel worked carefully, whistling softly under his breath. His body concealed what he was doing, and after a while, Garry got bored watching his broad back, and getting up, he began to pace up and down. He smoked one cigarette after another and continually looked at his watch. After an hour had dragged by, he paused in his pacing to ask. “How’s it coming?”
“I’ve neutralized the time switch,” Fennel said, sitting back on his heels and wiping his forehead with his arm. “That’s the worst part of the job behind us. Now, I’ve got to tackle the lock itself.”
Garry sat down and waited.
Another hour dragged by, then Fennel gave a little grunt.
“I’ve done it!” he exclaimed.
Garry joined him at the door.
“Quicker than you thought.”
“Just luck. I’ve been five hours on one of these goddamn locks before now.” He stood up and pulled the door open. “Do you know where the ring is?”
“I’ll take you to it.”
Fennel hastily repacked his tool bag and together the two men moved into the picture gallery. Going ahead, Garry entered the second room and made for the lighted alcove. Then he paused, experiencing a sense of shock. The pedestal was there, but the glass box and the ring were missing.
“What is it?” Fennel demanded.
“It’s gone!” Garry licked his dry lips. “That’s where it was… it’s gone! I thought…”
He stopped short as he saw Fennel, his face twitching, was staring at the wide archway from which they had come into this room from the picture gallery.
Standing in the archway, wearing only leopard skins, were four giant Zulus, each holding a broad-bladed stabbing spear, their cruel, fierce black eyes fixed on the two startled men.
One of them said in guttural English. “You come with us.”
“What they call a fair cop,” Garry said and moved towards the Zulus.
Fennel hesitated, but he knew they hadn’t a chance against these four giants. Cursing softly, he picked up his tool bag and moved after Garry.
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.