Amelia Peabody Omnibus 1-4 (133 page)

D
ESPITE
the best efforts of my noble steed, the stars were blossoming upon the blue velvet of the sky before I reached Dahshoor. The afterglow washed the sloping sides of the pyramids in an eerie pinkish light, but the desert floor was veiled in twilight; long before I made out his form, I heard the well-loved voice: ‘Peabody! Peabody, is that you? Answer me, curse it!’

I urged my horse into a gallop. Emerson came running to meet me, and before long I was held in his tender embrace.

‘What the devil do you mean being so late?’ he demanded. ‘I was about to send a search party after you.’

‘Please, Emerson. If you must shout, wait until your lips are farther from my ear.’

Emerson mumbled something unintelligible into the orifice in question. Eventually the little mare politely requested the attention she well deserved by nudging me with her velvety nose, and I suggested to Emerson that we save further demonstrations of welcome for a more suitable time and place.

‘Yes, quite,’ said Emerson. ‘Come and see our new sleeping quarters, Peabody.’

‘The tents have been delivered, then? I particularly requested Ali to send them out immediately.’

‘I don’t know whether he sent them immediately, but they arrived a few hours ago. I had Nemo put up our tent–’

‘Nemo!’

‘Yes, and he did it very deftly, too. What do you think?’

From what I could see in the gloaming, the structure appeared to be properly constructed. I accepted Emerson’s pressing invitation to inspect the interior, and it was only after a somewhat lengthy and thoroughly satisfactory interval that I was able to turn my attention to a matter I had meant to pursue immediately upon my arrival. Emerson politely held the tent flap aside for me, and as we walked hand in hand toward the house I asked, ‘When did Nemo leave, Emerson?’

‘Why, not at all, Peabody, unless he has taken to his heels within the past half hour. I left him with Ramses… . What did you say, Peabody?’

‘I only uttered a brief ejaculation, fearing for a moment that I was in danger of tripping over a stone.’

‘Oh,’ said Emerson. ‘What were we talking about?’

‘I was about to say you should have had Mr Nemo erect both tents.’

‘Amelia, I do not intend that Ramses shall sleep in a tent.’

‘It is not for Ramses, it is for Miss Marshall.’

‘Oh curse it, Amelia, why the devil–’

‘I told you, Emerson. It is not suitable–’

He interrupted me, of course. We continued our discussion as we walked to the house. The inevitable conclusion having been reached, Emerson shook himself and said calmly, ‘It is good having you back, my dear Peabody. The place is just not the same without you. I only hope I have not made a mistake in taking that young woman on my staff. Can you believe she kept to her room all day? I am afraid she is not up to the work. I am afraid she is sickly. Night air is bad for sickly persons–’

‘The night air is just what she needs to complete her cure. I promise you, she will be ready for work tomorrow.’

‘Humph,’ said Emerson.

Before we left England, Ramses had informed me that he had decided to write an introductory Egyptian grammar, the volumes available being, in his opinion, completely inadequate. I agreed with his evaluation, but I would have encouraged the endeavour in any case, since I hoped it would help to keep him out of mischief. I was pleased, that evening, to find him busily scribbling, with the cat Bastet sitting on the table acting as a paperweight.

‘Where is Mr Nemo?’ I asked, after greetings had been exchanged.

‘In his room. I presume,’ said Ramses, picking up the pen he had laid aside upon my entrance, ‘that he is smoking opium. I asked him if I might participate, but he–’

‘Ramses!’ I exclaimed. ‘You are not to take opium!’

‘I don’t recall that you ever told me I must not, Mama.’

‘You are right. I neglected to make that observation. Consider it made now. Whatever put such an idea into your head?’

Ramses fixed me with his wide, serious gaze. ‘It is a question of scientific experiment, Mama. A scholar should not depend upon descriptions of results; in order fully to assess them he must have a firsthand acquaintance with–’

‘Never mind; I should have known better than to ask. Ramses, if you … You are strictly forbidden … Oh, good Gad, I have no time to counter your Machiavellian arguments. I must see how Miss Marshall is getting on. But please bear in mind … Emerson, I leave you to talk to Ramses.’

‘Listen to Ramses’ was more like it; the boy launched into a long speech, in which Emerson’s feeble ‘But, my boy–’ was swallowed up like a scrap of paper in a whirlpool. At least I was confident that while the discussion continued, I could talk to Enid without being overheard.

She was lying on the cot when I entered, her face turned to the wall; but when she saw who it was she leaped up with the energy and grace of a tigress.

‘I am going mad with boredom,’ she hissed. ‘I would prefer a prison cell to this solitude – this suspense – and that abominable child popping in to ask me questions about the funerary monuments of the Fourth Dynasty–’

‘I hope you didn’t attempt to answer them?’

‘How could I? I didn’t understand one word in ten.’ After a moment, the fiery rage on her face faded and she collapsed onto the thin mattress, her face crumpling like that of a frightened child. ‘Forgive me, Mrs Emerson. I owe you so much – but inactivity and ignorance of what is happening prey on my mind.’

‘I would feel much the same. Your inactivity is at an end. Tomorrow you will join us on the dig. Don’t worry about betraying your ignorance. You will be acting as my assistant, and I will make sure you are in no difficulty. If Emerson asks you a question you cannot answer, simply say, ‘Mr Petrie is of the opinion …’ You won’t get any further. Emerson will either interrupt you or stalk off in a rage. If Ramses questions you – which he almost certainly will – you need only ask him what
he
thinks. The only difficulty then will be to get him to stop talking. Have you any questions?’

‘Any? I have a hundred.’ Her eyes flashed. ‘You went to Cairo today. What has happened? Have the police–’

‘The police are idiots. You must remain here until I have solved the case and made it possible for you to resume your rightful position.’

‘You said you knew–’

‘I said I knew who the murderer of Kalenischeff is. I spoke no more than the truth, Miss Marshall. The only trouble is, I don’t know who he … Let me rephrase that. I know who he is; but I do not know … Good Gad, this is more complex than I realized. The murderer is the leader of a criminal network of which Kalenischeff was a member. You follow me so far? Good. Unfortunately, although I have met the individual in question, I don’t know his true identity. He is a master of disguise.’

Enid looked doubtfully at me. ‘Do I understand you correctly, Mrs Emerson? Are you saying that the murderer is a sort of Master Criminal?’

‘Excellent,’ I cried. ‘I applaud your intelligence, Miss Marshall. I knew from the first that you and I would be in accord.’

‘Thank you, ma’am. Forgive me if I do not appear to be encouraged by the information. From what I have heard about master criminals, they are geniuses of crime and are not easily brought to justice.’

‘Quite true. However, you may be sure that
this
genius of crime will be brought to justice and by
me
. It may take a little while, though, so you must be patient. Here are a few personal items I purchased for you in Cairo.’ I handed her the parcel. ‘I apologize for the poor quality of the garments; ready-made clothing is not of the best, but I did not feel I could march into Shepheard’s and collect your luggage.’

‘You are more than kind,’ she murmured, her head bent over the parcel.

‘Not at all. I have the bill and expect you will reimburse me as soon as you are able.’

Enid looked up with a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye, as the poet has it. All at once she flung her arm around my neck and hid her face against my shoulder. ‘Now I begin to understand why people speak of you as they do,’ she murmured. ‘My own mother could have done no more for me…’

My heart went out to the girl, but I knew that an overt expression of sympathy would bring on the flood of tears she was trying valiantly to repress. I therefore attempted to relieve the situation with one of my little jokes. Patting her hand, I remarked with a smile, ‘I doubt that even your dear mama could have been as useful in the present situation; a lady so well bred as she would not have had my extensive acquaintance with hardened criminals and their habits. Now, now, my dear, cheer up. I have a question for you. Why didn’t you tell me you were engaged to be married?’

She raised her head, astonishment writ large upon her features. ‘But I am not. Whoever told you that?’

‘Mr Baehler, the manager of Shepheard’s Hotel. Your affianced husband is in Cairo, burning to assist you.’

‘I cannot understand … Oh. Oh, heavens. It must be Ronald. I should have known?’

‘You owe me an explanation, my dear girl. Who the dev – who is Ronald?’

‘The Honourable Ronald Fraser. We grew up together, Ronald and I and …’ Her lips closed. She sat for a moment in silence, as if thinking how best to explain. Then she said slowly, ‘Ronald is my second cousin – the only kin I have now. He has no other claim on me.’

‘Why would he call himself your fiancé, then? Or did Mr Baehler misunderstand?’

Enid tossed her head. ‘He asked me to marry him. I refused. But it would be like Ronald to assume I would change my mind. He has a habit of believing what he wants to believe.’

‘Ah, I see. Thank you for your confidence, Miss Marshall. And now I think you had better put on the dress I brought you and join us for a cup of tea and a little conversation. Afterwards we will retire to our tents. Did I mention you will be sleeping in a tent tonight? I am sure you will enjoy it. Much more pleasant than this stuffy room.’

When I returned to the sitting room, Emerson was still trying to explain to Ramses about the horrors of opium addiction. He did not appear to have made much headway. Ramses remarked, ‘May I say, Papa, that the poignant description you have just delivered verges on the classic? However, you will permit me to point out that there is no danger whatever that I would succumb to the temptations you have so eloquently described, since mental lethargy is not one of my–’

Emerson shot me a look of agonized appeal. ‘Ramses,’ I said, ‘you are not, under any circumstances whatever, to smoke, eat, or imbibe any form of opium.’

‘Yes, Mama,’ Ramses said resignedly.

I then went to have a look at Mr Nemo. I did not expect to find him indulging in the occupation Ramses so longed to experience, since I had his supply of opium and did not suppose he had money to buy more. I found him undrugged, and in a very bad temper. He looked up from the book he was holding and glared at me.

‘I am glad to see you improving your mind, Mr Nemo,’ I said encouragingly.

Nemo tossed the book aside. ‘I don’t want to improve my mind. I had no choice. Haven’t you anything to read except books on Egyptology?’

‘You should have asked Ramses. He has brought along some of his favourite thrillers – a surprisingly low taste for a person of his erudition. Never mind that now, I have a task for you. The moon is still bright; can you see well enough to put up the other tent? I intend the young lady to sleep there tonight.’

‘I would work in total darkness if it would get her away from the house,’ Nemo said gruffly. ‘What is she doing here? How long is she going to stay?’

‘She is an archaeologist, Mr Nemo. She has come to help with the digging.’

‘Is that what she told you?’ Nemo laughed harshly. ‘She has taken you in, Mrs Emerson – you, of all people! She knows nothing of archaeology.’

‘Are you acquainted with the young lady?’

Nemo averted his eyes. ‘I saw her in Cairo – another vain, empty-headed society girl. Everyone knew who she was. Everyone saw her with that vile – that contemptible –’

‘Language, Mr Nemo. Language.’

‘I was not going to finish the sentence. I don’t care … I don’t care about anything. I only want to be left alone. You took my opium, didn’t you? I don’t blame you; you had every right. But the moment I get my hands on any money, I will buy more. I cannot trust myself. You cannot trust me. Let me go back to the gutter from which you took me.’

I was not moved by his appeal, though I knew it came from the heart. The young do take themselves so seriously, poor things, and they tend to express themselves in theatrical parlance.

I sat down on the cot beside him. ‘Mr Nemo, you are in deeper trouble than you know. If you return to your gutter, you will be removed from it forthwith, by the police. Are you honestly ignorant of the fact that the vile – that Kalenischeff was murdered the night before last, and that you are one of the prime suspects?’

Nemo’s reaction ended my suspicions of him once and for all. His look of abject astonishment might have been feigned, but the dark blood that flooded his haggard cheeks was a symptom beyond the skill of the most accomplished thespian.

‘I know you didn’t kill him,’ I said. ‘I am going to take you into my confidence, Mr Nemo. I am going to share with you a secret unbeknownst even to my husband and – and, I
hope
, my son, although with Ramses one can never be certain.’

With a mighty effort Mr Nemo got control of himself. ‘I am deeply honoured, madam. To tell me something even the professor does not know–’

‘I really have no choice, Mr Nemo, since you already know it – the young lady’s true identity. The murdered man was found in her room. Fortunately for her, she fled before the police could apprehend her, but she is also a suspect. I have reason to believe she may be in even greater danger from another source. Until I can find the real murderer, she must remain incognito and in concealment. Admittedly her relationship with Kalenischeff was indiscreet, but I am convinced it was no worse than that. She needs your help; she does not deserve your scorn. Well?’

‘I am in a daze of disbelief,’ Nemo exclaimed. ‘I knew nothing of this! I
was
at the hotel that night. I followed – that is to say – I followed my own inclinations … But I had every intention of keeping my appointment for that morning. However, after – after a while I changed my mind again. That is not atypical of drug users, you know. There seemed to be no sense in waiting there for hours, and I had some notion of showing my independence by making my own way to Dahshoor… . But if I told that story to the police–’