The Eunuch of Stamboul by Dennis Wheatley

Author:Dennis Wheatley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 1972-01-28T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XVI

THE STOPPED EARTH

In the late afternoon of the following day, Swithin boarded a motor-launch which lay waiting for him at a broken down pier on the little-frequented waterfront just to the north of Scutari.

He was dressed in greasy overalls and a rakish check cap which had seen considerable service; a portion of his second-hand wardrobe which Arif had brought over from his Tatavla flat earlier in the afternoon.

The Turk stood on the slimy steps of the landing stage. It was he who had arranged the hire of the launch and that it should be left ready at this quiet spot. As Swithin started up the engine Arif tossed a bundle down to him in the boat and with a quick glance round, started off up the jetty.

Swithin slung the bundle into the small cabin that occupied the rear of the launch, cast off from the landing stage and turned her nose up the Bosphorus. On reaching the landward end of the pier Arif glanced over his shoulder. Swithin too was looking back; both raised a hand simultaneously in a farewell wave and then the Turk disappeared among the boatsheds and low buildings.

The launch settled down to a steady chug, making a good pace against the current, and Swithin decided that Arif had done his business well. The Turk had put up a good performance in more than one way since their mental tussle which had taken place in the small hours of the previous morning. Once Swithin had convinced him that his brother had been murdered by the very men he was endeavouring to place in power, the Station-master’s whole attitude had changed. His actual knowledge of the conspiracy was little more than Swithin had already forced out of him but he had promised his unreserved assistance in securing further details and helping to checkmate it.

He had been devoted to Reouf and the thought that the boy had been done to death for a simple indiscretion, where a sharp warning would have proved sufficient deterrent to his making further rash confidences, filled him with bitter anger and an implacable hatred for those unknown chiefs of his organisation who must have ordered the murder.

Swithin had spent half the night alternately trying to console him for his loss and goading him to a white hot resentment against Kazdim and his associates, so that when both were nearly dropping with fatigue, Arif had willingly put him up for the rest of the night and, in the morning, agreed to undertake various matters for him.

As he was wanted by the police Swithin felt that it would be a needlessly risky proceeding to cross the Bosphorus in the daytime, yet it was essential that he should arrange a meeting with Diana. In consequence, he had decided to lie low at Arif’s house until late in the afternoon while the Turk went to his flat and collected some of his disreputable clothes, arranged for a motor-boat, and despatched a note to Diana, asking her to be at the Tobacco Depot without fail by six o’clock.

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