The Quest of Julian Day

The Quest of Julian Day by Dennis Wheatley Page A

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Authors: Dennis Wheatley
Tags: Fiction, Action & Adventure
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Sir Walter’s death last night it hardly seemed decent to go, so we refused. Still, I’ve only to ring him up and say we’ve changed our minds and I’m sure he would be delighted for us to bring you too.’
    â€˜It sounds grand,’ I murmured, ‘but I don’t quite see how going to a party will get us anywhere.’
    â€˜Don’t you?’ he smiled. ‘That’s because you don’t know McPherson’s parties. He does things on the grand scale and every soul who matters in Alexandria will be there. If we keep our eyes and ears open we ought to be able to find out where Zakri Bey is staying. In fact, if he’s such a big bug as you say, I should think he’s almost certain to be there himself.’
    â€˜It’s too risky. If I ran into one of those other friends of McPerson’s from the “Hampshire” they’d know me again, even without my beard. Still, there’s no reason why you and Clarissa shouldn’t go.’
    â€˜That wouldn’t be much good because neither of us knows even what Zakri Bey looks like; and nobody would ever recognise you if you came rigged out just as you are now.’
    â€˜What, like this?’ I expostulated. ‘But you couldn’t possibly take an Arab dragoman to that sort of show.’
    â€˜Nonsense,’ Harry laughed. ‘Alexandria’s one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world. There’ll be Greeks and Italians and French and Egyptians there—every colour of the rainbow; as it’s a fancy-dress dance there’ll probably be at least a score of other chaps dressed as Arabs.’
    â€˜In that case. I’m all for it. What time does the party start?’
    â€˜Half-past ten; and if I know the McPhersons they’ll keep it up till dawn. It’s past nine now, so I’ll get back to the hotel, see if they can fix up Clarissa and me with some sort of costume, ‘phone the McPhersons and have a spot of food. Say we pick you up here in a car at eleven?’
    â€˜That’ll do splendidly,’ I agreed. ‘But don’t get out of the car. Stop it about fifty yards down the road, by that lamp-post there, and I’ll be on the look-out for you. Now I’m on the runwe must avoid being seen about together in the streets as much as possible; the police may start having you shadowed in the hope that I’ll try to contact you and they’ll be able to pick me up that way.’
    When Harry had gone I sat on at the café until Amin reappeared. He had had no luck with his enquiries. Zakri Bey was not staying at the Royal Palace, and by personal visits Amin had confirmed the fact that he had not taken rooms at any of the big hotels. It seemed as though he and O’Kieff had disappeared into the blue and I began to fear that they had decided on a night run through to Cairo by car. It is only 13 miles and by taking the new by-pass road which runs through the desert, avoiding all the villages of the Delta, they could reach Cairo by eleven o’clock if they had left Alexandria immediately after their fracas with me.
    Amin took me to a small restaurant where I insisted on his sitting down to feed with me; it would never have done for him to have left me in solitary state and to have had his own food outside, as is the usual custom of guides when they are with Europeans.
    He was a little bashful about it but superlatively well-mannered and I took the opportunity to watch his idiosyncrasies as he fed, and copy them, in order to fill the rôle that I was playing as fittingly as possible. I cautioned him, too, that he must not say a single word to me in English and I got in some useful practice of my Arabic during the meal.
    After we had fed I thanked him again for all his help and said that if he wished to assist me further he was to report without my risking being seen in their company. He would then be able to carry messages between the Belvilles and myself

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