Sitting near the breakfast-room with a view of all this commotion, Lew Fennel watched sourly.
Rain fell steadily. The Bantus, sheltering under umbrellas, paused to stare through the glass doors of the hotel at the confusion going on in the lobby. Having stared, they grinned and moved on, splay footed, the men in shabby European dress, the women wearing bright scarves over their heads and bright dresses that set off their colour.
Fennel sucked at his cigarette and watched the last of the American party, still screaming to each other, whisked away in the lifts. He had been in Johannesburg now for thirty-six hours. He had had a nervous half day in Paris before catching the plane to South Africa. Now, for the first time for over a month, he felt relaxed and safe. Moroni and the police were far away.
He looked at his watch, then shifted his heavy body more comfortably in the chair.
A black Cadillac drew up outside the hotel and Fennel got to his feet as he saw Gaye's tawny head emerge as she ran under the cover of the hotel's canopy.
Ten minutes later, the three were with him in the small sitting- room of his suite on the eighth floor of the hotel.
Fennel was in an amiable and expansive mood.
'I guess you all want to rest,' he said as he served drinks from the refrigerator, 'but before you go, I'd like to fill you in with what we can expect . . . okay?'
Garry eased his heavy shoulders. The fourteen hour flight had cramped his muscles. He looked at Gaye.
'Do you want to listen or do we take a bath first?'
'We listen,' Gaye said, leaning back on the settee. She took a sip of the gin and tonic Fennel had given her. 'I'm not all that dead.'
Fennel's eyes narrowed. So Edwards was already taking a proprietory interest in the woman he had mentally reserved for himself.
'Well, make up your minds!' he said, his temper rising. 'Do you or don't you want to hear?'
'I said yes,' Gaye said, her cool eyes surveying him. 'What is it?'
'Those invoices Shalik gave me. It puts us right in the photo.' Fennel drank a little of his whisky and water. 'I now know the museum must be underground. A lift complete with all the works was delivered to Kahlenberg's place and as the house is on one floor, the answer to the lift is the museum is under the house. Get it?'
'Keep going,' Garry said.
'Listed in the invoices are six television close-circuit sets and one monitor. That tells me there are six rooms in the museum and there is one guard watching the monitor, probably somewhere in the house. By pressing buttons, the guard can survey each of the six rooms, but only one at the time.' Fennel lit a cigarette, then went on, 'I know this system. The weakness is that the guard could fall asleep, he could read a book without watching the monitor or he could leave to go to the toilet. But we must find out if he does all or any of these things and if he is on duty at night. That's your job to find out,' and Fennel pointed his stubby finger at Garry.
Garry nodded.
'The door to the museum is listed on the invoice. It is of massive steel. I worked for Bahlstrom so I know about their equipment. The door has a time lock on it. You set it at a certain time and set the counter dial at another time and no one on earth except Bahlstroms can open the door between these two times.' Fennel grinned. 'Except me. I know how to handle that time lock. I helped to build it.
Now we come to something you will have to take care of.' He was talking directly at Garry.
'The lift . . . this is a tricky one. We will do the job at night. What I want to know is if the lift is out of action during the night. By that, I mean is the electricity cut. If the lift doesn't work at night I don't see how the hell we are getting to the museum.'
'Let's be pessimistic,' Garry said. 'Suppose the juice is cut off?'
'It's up to you to turn it on or we're sunk.'
Garry grimaced.
'There's always the chance there could be stairs as well as the lift.'
'Could be.' Fennel nodded. 'That too you have to find out. It's your job to find out as much as you can once you're in. Another thing you will have to tell me is how I get in . . . door or window? Again this is up to you. All the dope you collect you give to me over the two-way radio so I'll know what to be ready for.'
'If the dope can be got, I'll get it.'
Fennel finished his drink.
'If you don't get it, we don't do the job . . . it's as simple as that.'
