The Quest of Julian Day by Dennis Wheatley Page B

it would be the best part of an hour before they would be allowed off.
    Numerous officials came on board and, among them, a number of Egyptian police, varying in colour, with the exception of their Chief Officer who was a tall, thin, beaky-nosed Englishman, looking very smart and businesslike in his well-cut uniform and red tarboosh. Evidently the Captain had wirelessed for them to meet the ship as we saw the Chief Purser lead them straight from the gangway to his cabin.
    A glorious, salmon-coloured sunset now suggested a huge bonfire somewhere behind the town, throwing the long façades of big buildings into sharp relief, while out to sea visibility was fading rapidly. While we stood there, for about a quarter of an hour perhaps, daylight disappeared and the lights about the harbour began to prick the growing gloom here and there, turning Alexandria into a fairy city.
    We were watching the metamorphosis when the Chief Purser suddenly appeared with the request that Harry and Clarissa would join the Captain in his cabin.
    Harry shot me a dubious glance.
    â€˜Go ahead,’ I nodded, and added significantly, ‘I’ll keep an eye on
your
luggage.’
    â€˜Thanks, Mr. Day,’ the Purser said as he turned away. ‘I’d be glad if you’d remain here, as we shall be wanting you in a few minutes.’
    Evidently the Captain had reported all he knew of the murder to the police and they meant to check up on our stories separately. But O’Kieff was still inside and once he emerged I did not intend to let him out of my sight whatever happened.
    The Belvilles had hardly left me when the Second Purser and two stewards came up to O’Kieff’s lair. I was not near enough to hear what passed between them and him but he stepped outside followed by Grünther, who was carrying his despatch case and wraps, and a moment later the stewards began to pass out his baggage while the Purser led him aft along the deck.
    I waited for the stewards, my eyes glued to the precious cabin trunk as it seemed to me this was just the point at which it was likely to be spirited away to some carefully selected hiding-place below decks. Rather to my surprise, they humped it off with the other luggage; so I followed wondering anxiously what this special attention to O’Kieff portended. The little party thrust their way through the crush of passengers near the gangway and crossed to the far side of the ship which was facing away from the wharf.
    The deck there was considerable less crowded, but a number of the less impatient passengers lined the rail, looking out over the harbour dotted with its innumerable small craft or haggling with the Arabs below who, packed in their flimsy boats, were endeavouring to sell them fly-whisks, fruit and a variety of junk. O’Kieff and his baggage were escorted along the deck behind the row of passengers until they came to a halt where there was a break in the rail and a shipside ladder had been lowered. With a swift glance over, I saw that a large motor-launch was waiting alongside its lowest step.
    Up to that moment everything had seemed so simple. All I had to do was to keep fairly near O’Kieff when his baggage was inspected, so that if the customs people looked like letting him through without examining that package there would still be time for me to tip them off, and then, if it was the tablet he would be promptly arrested.
    Now, apparently, all my calculations were to be upset. O’Kieff had no accomplice on board among the crew neitherdid he intend to smuggle his loot through the customs like a common little crook. As usual, he was doing things on the grand scale and had managed, somehow, to wangle special permission to leave the ship without having his luggage searched. If he really had the tablet, once he got it ashore all chance of tracing it would be gone, and, after that, all possibility of getting him for murder. In an agony of frustration I saw that he would get