Amelia Peabody Omnibus 1-4 (120 page)

Read Amelia Peabody Omnibus 1-4 Online

Authors: Elizabeth Peters

BOOK: Amelia Peabody Omnibus 1-4
10.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘Please, Professor.’ Baehler wrung his hands. ‘People are staring. You are overheard.’

‘Well, I mean to be overheard,’ Emerson declared. ‘That is the function of speech, Baehler, to be heard.’

‘All the same, Herr Baehler is right, Emerson,’ I said. ‘You and I know the man is guilty, but we could not find legal evidence. We cannot expect Herr Baehler to evict him on those grounds. What I would like to know is the identity of the unfortunate young woman he was escorting. She appears to be very young. What is her mother thinking of, to allow her to appear alone in public with such a man?’

Baehler hesitated. From his untroubled brow and pleasant half-smile one would have supposed he was unconcerned; but I knew that he yearned to confide in a sympathetic and understanding person. He began cautiously, ‘The lady is an orphan. Perhaps you have heard of her. She is a countrywoman of yours – a Miss Debenham. The Honourable Miss Debenham, to be precise. Her father was Baron Piccadilly, and she is his sole heiress.’

‘An heiress,’ I said meaningfully.

Emerson grunted. ‘That explains Kalenischeff’s interest. No, Baehler, we are not acquainted with the young woman; we do not concern ourselves with the empty-headed upper classes. I don’t want to hear anything more about this Miss Devonshire, or whatever her name may be. Mrs Emerson does not want to hear about her either. Mrs Emerson has no time for such people.’

‘Hush, Emerson. Mr Baehler knows I never interfere in other people’s affairs; but I feel an obligation in this case, knowing what I know of Kalenischeff’s true character. The young lady should be warned. If I may be of any assistance …’

Baehler was only waiting for the opportunity to speak out. ‘I confess, Mrs Emerson, that the situation is – er – uncomfortable. Miss Debenham arrived in Cairo quite unaccompanied, even by a personal servant. She soon took up with the prince, and their behaviour has become an open scandal. You are not the first to mention it to me. Reluctant as I am to offend a member of the British upper class, I may be forced to ask Miss Debenham to leave the hotel.’

I also lowered my voice. ‘Do you mean that they – that they are …’

Baehler leaned forward. ‘I beg your pardon, Mrs Emerson. I can’t hear what you are saying.’

‘Perhaps that is just as well.’ I looked at Ramses, who stared back at me with the owl-eyed blankness that indicated an intense interest in the conversation. I had long since abandoned hope that Ramses was ignorant of matters no eight-year-old boy should concern himself with, but I tried to maintain an appearance, at least, of decorum.

‘Emerson,’ I said, ‘take Ramses upstairs and wash him.’

‘He doesn’t need washing,’ said Emerson.

‘He always needs washing. You know we are dining at Mena House this evening, to see the full moon over the pyramids. I would like to get an early start.’

‘Oh, very well.’ Emerson rose. ‘Don’t think I am unaware of what you are planning, Peabody. Watch yourself.’

When the two of them had gone off, I turned back to Baehler. ‘Speak candidly, my friend. Does Kalenischeff share Miss Debenham’s room? You cannot shock me.’

I had shocked Herr Baehler. ‘Mrs Emerson, how can you suppose I would allow such a thing in my hotel? The prince has his own room, some distance from Miss Debenham’s suite.’

I permitted myself a small ironic smile, which Baehler pretended not to see. ‘Be that as it may, I cannot watch unmoved the headlong rush of a fellow creature to destruction, particularly when the fellow creature is a member of my own oppressed sex. We women are constantly taken advantage of by men – I except my husband, of course – and we have a moral obligation to stand by one another. I will speak to Miss Debenham.’

Mr Baehler appeared to have had a change of heart. That is so typical of men; they are always asking for something and then deciding they don’t want it after all. ‘I am not sure,’ he began.

‘But I am.’ I smiled and poked him with my parasol. ‘Have no fear, Herr Baehler. I will approach the subject with the utmost delicacy. I will simply point out that Kalenischeff is a cad, a thief, and possibly a murderer. I fancy that will convince Miss Debenham.’

Baehler’s lips quivered. ‘You have your mind made up? Nothing I could say would dissuade you?’

‘Nothing,’ I assured him.

‘Baehler went off, shaking his head, and I finished my tea. It did not take long, for Ramses had eaten all the sandwiches.

When I returned to our rooms, prepared to assist Emerson in his toilette, a process that is often unnecessarily prolonged because of his extreme reluctance to assume formal evening dress, I found to my annoyance that he and Ramses were gone. So was the cat. How they had eluded me I could not imagine; they must have crept out the back entrance.

They did not return for over an hour. Emerson’s coat and collar had been unbuttoned and the cat Bastet, perched on his shoulder, was nibbling disinterestedly at the dangling ends of his cravat. Ramses’ tumbled curls were grey with dust; his boots left green footprints on the floor.

‘You have been in the bazaar of the dyers and fullers,’ I exclaimed. ‘Why, in heaven’s name?’

‘Ramses had a fancy for a fez,’ Emerson explained, stooping so that the cat could step down onto the bed. ‘Where is it?’

Ramses gazed round the room as if he expected to find the headgear in question had moved under its own power and arrived before him. ‘It appears to have been misplaced,’ he said finally.

I groped for words. ‘Wash,’ I said.

‘Yes, Mama.’

Followed by the cat, Ramses went into his room, which adjoined ours. Sounds of splashing ensued, accompanied by the tuneless humming with which Ramses enlivens his ablutions. Under cover of the sound I addressed my husband.

‘Well, Emerson?’

‘Well, Peabody. We must make haste; I had not meant to stay so long in the
sûk
, but you know how these negotiations go; talking and drinking coffee and exchanging compliments…’ He stripped off his coat and tie and shirt as he spoke, flinging them in the general direction of the bed. I picked up each article as it fell to the floor and hung it on a hook.

‘I do know, I had planned to spend the day tomorrow doing just that.’

‘Now you won’t have to.’ Emerson turned to the washbasin. ‘I have taken care of everything. We can leave for Dahshoor first thing in the morning.’

‘Tomorrow morning?’

Emerson splashed and sputtered and shook himself like a large dog. ‘Ah, most refreshing. Won’t it be wonderful to be back in the desert, Peabody? Sand and stars, peace and quiet, solitude, no confounded distractions …’

I was extremely vexed with him, but amusement tempered my annoyance. Emerson is as transparent as a child. Also, the ripple of muscle across his back distracted me. I picked up the towel and assisted him to dry himself.

‘I see through your scheme, Emerson. You want to get me away from Cairo. Very well. Naturally I share your enthusiasm for sand and stars, solitude, and so on. But there are many things I must attend to before–’

‘Not at all, Peabody. Abdullah and our men have been at Dahshoor all summer; we decided it was inadvisable to leave the site unguarded, if you recall. I don’t doubt that by this time they have selected a proper house and arranged it for us, removing to it the possessions we left at Dronkeh last spring.’

‘Abdullah’s idea of a proper house is not mine. I will need–’

‘Whatever you need can be procured after you ascertain what it is you need.’ The words were a trifle slurred and the speech lacked Emerson’s usual precision of syntax. I saw that he was watching me in the mirror with an expression I knew well.

‘Need I shave, Peabody?’ he inquired.

‘Of course you must, Emerson. Your beard is heavy, and–’

He turned and wrapped his arms round me, pressing me and the towel to his breast. His cheek brushed mine. ‘Need I shave, Peabody?’ he repeated hoarsely.

‘Emerson,’ I began, but I got no further for reasons which should be apparent to any reader of sensibility. Since my normal intelligence becomes somewhat muddled under the circumstances that then prevailed, I do not know how long it was before an uncomfortable prickling sensation at the back of my neck made itself felt. Freeing myself from Emerson’s hold, I turned to see Ramses standing in the doorway. The cat was in his arms and both were staring unabashedly.

‘Ramses,’ I exclaimed somewhat breathlessly. ‘Are you smiling?’

‘My expression was one of affable approbation,’ Ramses protested. ‘It pleases me to see you and Papa engaging in demonstrations of that nature. I cannot as yet explain why that should be the case, but I suspect it may indicate some deep-seated need for–’

‘Ramses!’ Emerson had got his breath back. ‘Return to your room at once. And close the door.’

Ramses promptly vanished, without so much as a ‘Yes, Papa.’ But the mood had been broken. With an embarrassed cough Emerson reached for his shaving mug. ‘We must do something about a bodyguard for Ramses,’ he said. ‘Or rather, I meant to say, a companion, an escort–’

‘The first word was appropriate,’ I replied, attempting to smooth my ruffled hair. It was futile, for the strands clung to my fingers with a kind of physical electricity, induced, no doubt, by the dry heat. I sat down at the dressing table in order to construct my evening coiffure.

‘I wanted to bring a manservant with us,’ I continued. ‘But you said no.’

‘We could hardly ask poor John to abandon his new bride,’ said Emerson, briskly whisking the soap into foam. ‘Once we reach Dahshoor, Selim can take up the duties he performed last season.’

‘Selim was perfectly useless, Emerson. I didn’t say so, for I would not hurt the lad’s feelings for the world, but he proved incapable of preventing Ramses from doing anything. Indeed, he became Ramses’ accomplice in crime rather than his guard.

‘What he really needs is a tutor,’ I went on. ‘His education has been extremely one-sided, to say the least. He can translate hieroglyphic Egyptian as easily as most children of his age can read English, but he has only the feeblest acquaintance with the sciences, and none whatever with the history of his great nation.’

‘He has a good working knowledge of zoology, Peabody. He is always picking up stray animals.’

‘Physics, astronomy–’

Emerson snorted so vigorously that foam flew all over the mirror. He wiped it off with his arm. ‘What difference does it make whether the earth goes round the sun or vice versa? It is an inconsequential piece of information.’

‘It seems to me, Emerson, that that sentiment has been expressed by someone else.’

‘No doubt. It is the sentiment of any reasoning individual. Never mind about Ramses’ education, Peabody. He will do well enough.’

He fell silent as he drew the shining blade of his razor across his cheek. Though unconvinced, I refrained from further comment for fear of causing a serious accident. When he had completed the delicate operation, I felt it safe to refer to another grievance. ‘So we are to leave in the morning?’

‘If that is agreeable to you, my dear.’

‘It is not at all agreeable to me. There are several tasks I had meant to complete–’

Emerson whirled, brandishing the razor. ‘Such as interfering in the private affairs of that Miss Devonshire.’

‘Debenham, Emerson. The lady’s name is Debenham. I had meant to speak a kindly word or two – the advice her mother would give her, were she still alive. I will simply have to find an opportunity tonight, that is all.’

‘Curse it,’ Emerson said.

‘Do hurry, Emerson. Mena House will be crowded; the pyramids by moonlight are a popular excursion. No,’ I went on, winding my braided hair into a neat knot. ‘The tasks I referred to were those of shopping. I feel sure you did not get all the articles I need.’

‘Yes, I did. I even bought a load of those cursed medicines you are always inflicting on people. Ipecacuanha, rhubarb, calomel, blistering plaster–’

‘You didn’t get a set of communion vessels, I suppose?’

‘Communion … Peabody, I didn’t object when you set yourself up as a physician, but I will be forced to protest if you begin administering the sacraments. Not only does that offend my principles – for I consider such activities the grossest kind of superstition – but it is sure to get you in trouble with the authorities of the Church of England.’

‘I presume you jest, Emerson. You know perfectly well why I want the vessels. They are to replace the ones the Master Criminal stole from the church at Dronkeh last year. The distress of the poor Sheikh El Beled touched my heart; we cannot restore the originals, so I thought I would get him another set. I don’t suppose you even looked for one.’

‘Antique Coptic religious objects are not easily found, even in the bazaars of Cairo,’ Emerson retorted. ‘It is all a ridiculous waste of time anyway. Why didn’t you just bring along a set of bathroom utensils from the Penny Bazaar?’

I ignored this churlish remark, being accustomed to Emerson’s unorthodox religious views. However, when he reached for his trousers I was moved to remonstrate. ‘Not those trousers, Emerson. I have laid out your evening clothes. A tweed suit is–’

‘The only attire appropriate for climbing the Great Pyramid, Peabody. You wouldn’t want me to spoil my only set of evening clothes, would you?’

‘Climb the pyramid? In the dark?’

‘The moon is at the full, as you know. There will be adequate light, I assure you, and the view from the top of the Great Pyramid is an experience not to be missed. I had planned it as a treat for you, my dear, but if you prefer to deck yourself out in a regalia like the one that young woman wore today … On my word, she resembled nothing so much as a pouter pigeon, and I fully expected her to flap up into the air.’

Having recognized the logic of his argument, I prepared to assume one of my working costumes, a tasteful ensemble of purple tweed trousers and a lavender-and-white-checked jacket, with a matching parasol. I am seldom without a parasol. It is one of the most generally useful objects an individual can possess, and I knew I would be glad of its assistance in the capacity of a walking stick that evening, for the terrain surrounding the pyramids is quite uneven. However, I felt obliged to protest Emerson’s assessment of Miss Debenham’s gown.

Other books

Walking Shadows by Phaedra Weldon
Headstrong by Meg Maguire
Sean Dalton - Operation StarHawks 03 - Beyond the Void by Sean Dalton - [Operation StarHawks 03]
Texas Tall by Janet Dailey
Slow Burn by Sascha Illyvich
Troubled range by Edson, John Thomas
The Vivisectionist by Hamill, Ike
Kate Remembered by A. Scott Berg
Beyond the Darkness by Alexandra Ivy