It was almost eight when Marianne Lee re-entered the room. She had been up to change and was wearing a stunning, off the shoulder black dress which set her slight figure off to perfection … if the look on Thomson's face was anything to go by.
"Have the musicians arrived yet Mike?" she asked.
For a moment he was startled by the use of his name, then he recovered and nodded, "Yes ma'am, they're in the back room getting ready"
She thanked him and headed straight for the central plinth to check on the sapphire. It glittered back at her and she had the absurd idea that it was laughing at her nerves, at the butterflies in her stomach, at the fact that she had been sick in the toilet not fifteen minutes ago … and this was only a test run for the big night … my god! What would she be like on Saturday!
She saw Salim, the band's rep come out of the back room and waved to him. He smiled back at her and approached her, opening his arms to indicate the surrounding displays he told her in his heavily accented but fluent English, "Very impressive Miss Lee, you have quite a collection of interesting items here," then pausing to look at the sapphire, "but of course, this item puts the others in the shade!"
She thanked him politely and then turned the conversation to the musical arrangements. They had already discussed the type of music and she just wanted to go over Saturday evening with him. "So, you'll be playing quietly in the background whilst all the guests arrive and whilst they move around the exhibition. We'll then bring out the food and the band can take centre stage, giving the guests a good selection and getting them into a fun mood. At around nine I'll give you the signal and then the music can be toned down again whilst I read some of the extracts from the diary. I should be finished by around nine-thirty and then the band can pick up again until the guests leave".
He nodded, "Tonight they will run through the repertoire for each of the 'stages' you can then see how the acoustics are and what changes you want to make?"
She nodded in agreement, "It will just be some friends and a few contacts, local TV and radio who will be coming, they'll be able to get a better impression of the display without all the guests milling about. If you need anything just let Raymond know, ok?"
A few moments later two more security guards joined Mike Thomson at the desk and after talking to him for a few minutes moved around the room in opposite directions. They were obviously getting a good look at things and checking out the hall. Both checked into the back room as they reached it and then continued round until re-joining Mike at the front desk. After another brief chat, one of them moved to the side of the main doors and the other moved to the centre of the room, keeping the display case with the sapphire within eyeballing range.
Next to arrive were the half-dozen hotel staff that would be on earning some extra cash serving drinks and canapés. Two food trollies and a drinks one were pushed in and they set about placing the food and drinks on the table near the back wall.
Slowly guests began arriving, each signing in at the desk, Mike checking their names off against his list. He was able to tell which of them were colleagues and friends and which strangers from Ms Lee's welcome. The first of the local TV stations arrived, a team of three, and began setting up. By nine o'clock the hall was pretty crowded, the Jil Jilala band was playing some upbeat music and the waiters and waitresses were handing out canapés and drinks. It was not the Moroccan food that would be served by the caterers on Saturday, but was enough to keep people happy.
Marianne Lee was beginning to find her throat getting dry from the several interviews and the constant chatting. In spite of that she was buzzing, the feedback was good, both friends and strangers commenting on the contents of the display and specifically on the magnificence of the Sultan's Sapphire.
She was about to ask a diminutive waitress moving nearby for a glass of water when the waitress turned to her and giving her a hesitant smile quietly said, "Miss Lee, I think I should tell you something about your assistant … Emily Peterson … ?"
The comment pulled Marianne up short her eyebrows lifting. She leant towards the waitress who was several inches shorter than her own five-eight, the music from the band and the conversations going on around them making it difficult to hear the softly spoken waitress. Marianne took hold of the girl's arm and led her away from the area towards a quieter corner. The waitress passed her tray to one of her colleagues who accepted it and allowed herself to be led away.
They had just reached the area in front of the tent when a muted explosion sounded from the back of the hall. Conversations petered out as everyone turned to look towards the back of the hall whilst one of the security guards moved quickly to the door leading to the service room at the back. He pushed the door open only to see flaring flames before thick oily smoke began pouring out of the room into the hall.
Worry began to run icy fingers through the gathered crowd and whilst some guests began laying down glasses and plates and heading towards the doors out onto the foyer others tried crowding closer to get a look at what was going on. The guard had grabbed the fire-extinguisher from off the wall by the door and was trying to get it going, but was having some difficulty with it. He was joined by Raymond Azoulay who seemed to be trying to get the extinguisher off the guard whilst telling him to close the door as the acrid smoke wafted it way out into the hall.
Panic was now taking hold as the smoke reached the crowded guests, Mike and his fellow front-door guard reaching the back of the room to try and help their colleague. The TV crews were also pushing forwards trying to get a news scoop, however minor, whilst those nearest the billowing black cloud were beginning to choke and were desperately trying to push back away from it.
As fire alarms began ringing, people pushed and a number of smaller display items got knocked over adding to the chaos. No-one noticed the waitress push Marianne Lee into the tent, making her loose her balance and pulling the tent partially down on herself as her body knocked one of the poles down. A startled Marianne had hardly gathered her wits when she felt the diminutive but surprisingly strong waitress land on top of her and next instant felt two sharp blows below her ribcage. As the waitress climbed off her she stared in mute astonishment at the handle of the khanjar knife protruding from her chest, her last thought as she felt the chain holding the key to the sapphire's display case ripped from her neck was that it had not kept evil at bay nor had it provided potent protection … but then of course she hadn't been wearing it either….
Jihane Mahfouz, though her work permit and social security indicated her name was Lucia Hernandez, wiped her hands on the edge of the tent to remove the blood and checked to see if anyone had noticed anything. The thick smoke was filling the hall from ceiling to just mid-height, thin tendrils swirling downwards as air currents caught and chased it. She could make out the legs of the guests as they crowded towards the doors coughing and chocking in the leaden air. She was unobserved off to one side, crouched by the semi-collapsed tent. Pulling a small bottle of water from her apron pocket she doused a handkerchief with water and held it across her mouth and nose. Quickly she moved to the wall beside the security guard's desk, ran her hand up the wall and located the light switches.
With a flick she turned them off, plunging the already darkened room into ghostly gloom. Again, keeping down close to the floor she skirted the now thoroughly panicking guests and made her way circuitously to the sapphire's display case. It took her two tries to slip the special key into the lock at the back, turning off all the security measures bar the CCTV camera watching the sapphire from above. She slid open the casing put her hand through whilst keeping her head bowed at all times. A quick grab and the sapphire was in her hand. She didn't bother sliding the back closed, she simply dropped the display bust on the floor, slipped the pendant down the front of her uniform and joined the thinning numbers of coughing people making their way out of the doors.
As soon as she reached the foyer she pushed her way to one side, keeping against the walls and making her way towards the staff door that would lead her to the stairwell and lifts used by the hotel chamber maids and room service. Sirens could be heard approaching as the key, previously supplied by Aziz, gave her entry and soon she was on the landing just below the first floor, wiping her face with the still damp cloth and trying to catch her breath. She sat down on the narrow plinth running round the stairwell, her back to a grill in the wall.
What she had just accomplished would give her standing amongst the brotherhood, but most importantly would prove to Aziz that she was willing to do anything for the cause. Looking round to make sure she was unobserved, she pulled the sapphire from its nesting place and held it in her hand, admiring the beauty of the stone. Suddenly she looked up and let out a gasp as she noticed Aziz standing not four feet away, observing her quietly, expressionlessly, neither face nor eyes giving anything away.
She leant forwards holding out her hand with the pendant towards him, a satisfied smile on her face. The smile changed to puzzlement first and then terror as she saw that what he was pointing at her. The first one felt like a red hot poker jabbing into the centre of her chest, knocking her back a little, turning her as the second one struck just below her breast, numbing her chest almost as much as her mind had already been numbed by his actions ….
She was unaware if it was minutes or seconds between collapsing on the floor and feeling herself being picked up … her eyes were misted over, her extremities felt numb, her breathing was laboured, painful … she couldn't work out what was happening … all she could feel was her cheek scraping along cold metal, a sense of claustrophobia … he was behind her … she needed to get away from him … desperately her fingers clawed at the surface below her, her feet tried finding purchase … she had no strength … desperation had her crawling forwards, inch by painful inch …. she was unaware of her surroundings, of the tears running down her cheeks …. her remaining vitality fading with each straining breath ….. darkness.
The stairwell was empty, the grill back in place … silence muting the distant sounds of shouting, heavy boots and sirens.
