Chapter 12

And so the next days I spent in searching the meagre documents that the local authorities held, while my father and Mr Harris asked their way around their colleagues for any kind of information. In the end, one crucial bit of information came from an unlikely source – namely Professor Norris.

"Oh, these ruins there!" he had cried out. "Yes, I have heard that there is supposed to be a treasure there, though I have to say I doubt it."

That presumably was a first. Professor Norris seemed rather inclined to believe every tidbit of information regarding treasure that was thrown his way, though he showed little perseverance when it came to hunting it down. After the first bout of overexcited enthusiasm, he soon lost interest when there were difficulties to encounter, and that was currently the case with the grave he was supposed to be excavating. But to scrape away the plaster was more painstaking than he had expected and while I myself was stunned at the time it took, while my father and his companions seemed to be quite content and cheerful still.

"Where have you heard about this supposed treasure?" I asked trying to appear as unconcerned as I possibly could.

"Oh, there is a group of young Englishmen. Where they live I do not know, but they often meet at the casino."

Said casino I had till now avoided, though not consciously. I simply had never been in the habit of gambling and thus had not felt the urge to get near there. Now, this would change.

It was lucky, however, that McKenna frequented there on occasion and so I got myself ready for a night out, well aware that the place catered for more than just the average gambler. The red light in one of the upper windows was a testimony to more carnal pleasures to be found there and I wondered what my young friend usually sought there.

The casino was located not too far from where my father and I stayed, close to the embankment where the boats landed that supplied this desert settlement. On the outside, it was unassuming enough, but entering it, I soon found that it was everything but on the inside. It looked like an odd mix of a Pall Mall gentleman's club and a brothel, and with that pretty much as the establishment, it was. There were pool tables, a roulette wheel, tables where men played at cards as well as a small stage where an oriental beauty performed a belly dance.

"I hope you have come here in expectation of losing a substantial amount of money, Sigerson, for this lot knows how to cheat."

"I am well aware that when one sits down at one of these tables the likeliness of winning is disproportionate to the one losing and that the latter, from a logical point of view, is more likely, the stalks depending on how many players there are," I replied calmly.

"You did not strike me as a gambler," McKenna remarked, steering over to one of the tables where there seemingly was space for the two of us amongst a group of young men, most of them already considerably intoxicated.

All the better. Sober men are careful, while drunken ones often suffered from verbal diarrhoea. One could only hope. This fact was exactly what had made us set out quite late and it seemed to work.

"Ah, McKenny..." a dark-haired man with a red sunburnt face cried out, as his gaze fell on my companion.

"McKenna," my guide corrected.

"Ah, tush Paddy, who's that with you? New love interest?"

"Very funny," McKenna answered, picking up the cards he had just been dealt.

"Ah come, we are all men of the world, are we not?" the man carried on, smirking.

"Talk for yourself."

"But that is exactly what I am doing, McKenny. So, how have you ended up here," I was at last addressed?

"Same way as you, I can imagine."

"What? Did you come here swimming on a crocodile's back then?"

"No, I preferred a boat, much more comfortable than to deal with all the spines in one's backside." I grinned, glancing at the cards in my hand, observing the tiny markings that showed me that someone did not play fairly.

"And what are you here for?"

"Building castles in the sand."

"You are a quick one, are you not?"

"Depends on what you refer to, I would say. I am certainly quick with some things and rather slow with others."

"Hear, hear."

"And you? What are you doing here?"

"Playing cards, as you can see."

This went on for some time, McKenna had left a while ago, presumably to seek out the other service this establishment provided, while I stayed where I was, playing cards, pretending to drink and most and for all listening to what was being said. After several hours, I had little doubt it must be some time early in the morning, the unruly man, of whom I by now knew was Mr Rendall, Lord Warbrook's oldest son, and another fellow named Rowland Cain and I moved over to the bar to drink some more. Or in my case to discard of the brandy in an inconspicuous manner. How lucky that they seemed to have a great liking for pot plants hereabouts.

"So, you have forgotten to tell us, why you are here, Sigerson."

"That is because I have no particular reason to be here," I replied, truthfully.

"So you just happened to come along and think that here is a nice place to stay?"

"It is at least an interesting place to stay, is it not?"

"It is a dangerous place to stay, Mr Sigerson," Cain spat, his brows knitted in a frown.

"Oh come now, dangerous?"

"You have no idea what Colonel Luton is up to, have you?"

"No," I replied carefully.

"Ah, and better it is, believe me. A dangerous lot that."

"So there is more than one?"

"Of course there is. They have been around ever since Khartoum fell and some say they got away with a booty worth several thousand Pounds. But, of course, no-one could prove that as yet."

All of a sudden a heavy hand descended on the countertop next to us as a man who clearly was said Colonel Luton slammed down his fist.

"And since that is so, Mr Rendall, you would do good to keep your gob shut," he growled.

Colonel Luton was an intimidating figure, though he was not particularly tall. But his bulk spoke of a strong man and his face bore the signs of a choleric fellow, with his heavy brow-ridges and the wide nose, his close-set eyes and the thin-lipped mouth. But alas, by now I had a good idea of what might have happened as everything fit just perfectly, all coming back to the one common denominator that was the military. Now I just had to find definite proof to close my case and that I would only do in the desert sands, over at the ruins where the as yet unknown man had lost his life.

Giving up on finding McKenna, who seemed to have more stamina than I would have given him credit for, I walked home and sank into bed just as the first sliver of light appeared over the hills to the east. It would not do to go unprepared. If one man had found his death there, so could I, and easily considering how little I knew about the area and about what was going on.

I had, of course, heard about Colonel Luton and his regiment, and that his actions in the battle that had cost Gordon Pasha his life had been most dubious. Yet nothing could ever be proven and thus he still roamed free, as did his associates.