Lion in the Valley (27 page)

"No,
Papa. If you would allow me—"

"No,
Ramses, I will not allow you to elaborate. For once in my life I intend to
direct the course of a family discussion and decide upon a sensible course of
action.

"To
return, then, to the subject of the murder. I find it difficult to believe that
the police really consider Miss Debenham a serious suspect. If she were to
surrender herself—"

Donald
started up from his chair. "Never!" he exclaimed. "Even if she
were to be cleared of the crime, the shame—the notoriety—"

"Be
still a moment," I said. "Emerson, I think you underestimate the
strength of the case against her. Let me play devil's advocate and state the
facts as they will appear to the police. Item: Miss Debenham and Kalenischeff
were intimately acquainted—lovers, to put it bluntly. (Donald, I insist that
you be quiet.) They quarreled on the night of the murder. He was found dead in
her bed, and she was with him in the room when the dastardly deed was done.
Alone with him, mark you, and in her nightclothes. Her story of a midnight
intruder who rendered her helpless by means of a drug will be dismissed as a
not very clever invention. You may be sure no one else saw a sign of the fellow."

"Kalenischeff's
shady reputation—his criminal connections—" Emerson began.

"His
criminal connections are no more than suspicions in so far as the police are
concerned. As for his reputation—don't you see, Emerson, that might work
against Miss Debenham? To put it as nicely as possible, Kalenischeff was a
ladies' man. Is not jealousy a motive for murder?"

Emerson
looked grave. "Is there no other suspect?"

"Er—yes,"
I said. "As a matter of fact, there are two."

Emerson
brightened. "Who?"

"Both,"
I said, "are in this room."

Emerson's
eyes moved, quite involuntarily, I am sure, to Ramses.

"Oh,
come, Emerson," I said impatiently. "If a woman could not strike such
a blow, how could an eight-year-old boy? No! Who is the man with thews of steel
and a formidable temper, who has been heard on numerous occasions to describe
Kalenischeff as a villain and a rascal and has stated that his very presence
was an affront to any decent woman?"

A
modest smile spread across Emerson's face. "Me," he said.

"Grammar,
Emerson, if you please. But you are correct. You are the person I meant."

"On
my word, Peabody, that is cursed ingenious," Emerson exclaimed. "If I
didn't know I hadn't done it, I would suspect myself. Well, but who is the
other suspect?"

"She
is referring to me, Professor," said Donald, carefully avoiding the
grammatical error Emerson had committed. "I was at the hotel that night.
You had told me to meet you there—"

"But
you didn't," Emerson said.

"No.
I—I was in a strange state of mind. Appreciating your trust and yet resenting
your interference ... I wandered half the night trying to decide what to
do."

"I
believe I can understand, Mr. Fraser. But the fact that you were in the motley
crowd outside the hotel doesn't make you a suspect. You were there other
evenings, you and dozens of other nondescript Egyptians. I assume you did not
enter the hotel?"

"How
could I?" Donald asked with a wry smile. "A ragged beggar like myself
would not be admitted to those precincts."

"Then
I fail to see how you can fall under suspicion."

Ramses
had been trying for some time to get a word in. "Papa—were Mr. Fraser's
true identity known—"

"Just
what I was about to say," I remarked, frowning at Ramses. "Mr. Donald
Fraser might have a motive for killing Kalenischeff that a ragged beggar would
not. Furthermore, I know for a fact that he is suspected."

"Who
told you?" Emerson demanded. "Baehler?"

"No,
it was—"

"You
went to police headquarters the day you were in Cairo," Emerson said
accusingly. "You misled me, Amelia. You promised—"

"I
made no promise, Emerson. And in fact the police were of little assistance. I
cannot think why our friend Sir Eldon has such incompetent people as his aides.
Major Ramsay is a perfect fool, and he has no manners besides. The person I was
about to mention is a well-known private investigator. I started to tell you
about him last night before you—before we—"

"Please
continue with your narrative, Amelia," said Emerson, glowering.

"Certainly,
Emerson. I only mentioned the—er—interruption because I don't want you to
accuse me of concealing information from you."

"Your
explanation is noted and accepted, Peabody."

"Thank
you, Emerson. As I was saying, I happened to meet this gentleman outside the
Administration Building. He recognized me and addressed me—most courteously, I
might add—and it was he who informed me that a certain beggar in a saffron
turban was under suspicion. His name is Tobias Gregson. He has solved such
well-known cases as the Camberwell poisoning—''

I
was not allowed to proceed. Every member of the
group—with the
exception of the cat Bastet, who only blinked her wide golden eyes—jumped up
and attempted to speak. Enid cried, "Ronald is behind this! How could
he..." Donald declared his intention of turning himself in at once. Emerson
made incoherent remarks about the moral turpitude of private detectives and
told me I ought to know better than to speak to strange men. Ramses kept
exclaiming, "But, Mama— but, Mama—Gregson is—Gregson is—" like a
parrot that has been taught only a few phrases.

By
speaking all at once, each defeated his (or her) purpose, and as the hubbub
died, I seized the opportunity to go on. "Never mind Mr. Gregson; we won't
speak of him since he has aroused such a storm. It is out of the question for
Donald and Enid to give themselves up. Donald's case is as desperate as Enid's—
indeed, it may be worse, for I am sure the authorities would prefer to arrest a
man rather than a young lady. No; we must sit pat, as one of my American
friends once said—in regard, I believe, to some sort of card game. Our game is
a dangerous one, and we must hold our cards close to our persons. I have made
one attempt to lure Sethos out of hiding; I propose to continue that method
tomorrow—"

Another
outcry silenced me, punctuated, like the monotonous tolling of a bell, by
Ramses' reiterated "But Mama." Emerson won over the rest this time,
by sheer volume.

"Rather
than allow you to repeat that imbecile and hazardous experiment, Amelia, I will
bind you hand and foot. Why must you take these things on yourself? Can't you
leave it to me to smoke out the villain?"

"I
cannot because I am the only one who can pass for Enid. Or do you propose to
assume women's clothing and walk with her dainty, tripping steps?"

The
very idea outraged Emerson so thoroughly that he was momentarily mute. It was
Enid who said timidly, "But, Amelia—are you absolutely certain it was I
the man wanted? Perhaps you were the intended victim all along."

"By
Gad," Emerson exclaimed. "Out of the mouths of babes and... Hem.
Excuse me, Miss Debenham. Precisely the point I would have made had I been
permitted to speak without these constant interruptions."

"Nonsense,"
I said. "My disguise was perfect. Donald here was deceived—"

"I
was not," Ramses said quickly. "I knew it was you. Mama, there is
something I must—"

"There,
you see," Emerson exclaimed triumphantly.

"The
eyes of true love cannot be deceived," Enid said. Donald glanced at her
and glanced quickly away.

Emerson's
lips tightened. "That," he said, "is what I am afraid of."

Emerson
refused to explain this enigmatic remark; nor, in fact, did any of us ask him
to explain, for we had more important matters to resolve. We finally decided to
wait upon events for another day or two, in the hope that something would turn
up. I should say, "Emerson decided," for I was opposed to the idea.
He promised me, however, that if nothing happened in the next two days, we
would go together to Cairo in an effort to obtain information.

"Let
me work for a brief time without distraction," he groaned piteously.
"The stratification of the structure next to the pyramid is not clear in
my mind as yet."

I
knew what Emerson was up to. He had no more intention than I did of sitting
with folded hands awaiting Sethos' next move. He was deceiving me, the sly
fellow—trying to get the jump on me in another of our amiable competitions in
criminology. Well, I thought, smiling to myself—two can play at that game,
Professor Radcliffe Emerson! I had a few cards up my own sleeve.

"Very
well," I said pleasantly. "That will give me a chance to explore the
interior of the subsidiary pyramid."

"It
will prove a wasted effort, Mama," said Ramses. "The burial chamber
is empty. Indeed, I suspect it was never used for a burial, since its
dimensions are only seven feet by—"

"Ramses,"
I said.

"Yes,
Mama?"

"Did
I not, on an earlier occasion, forbid you to go inside a pyramid without
permission?"

Ramses
pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Indeed you did, Mama, and I assure you I
have not forgotten. I might claim that since you were present, though at some
little distance, I was not violating the literal sense of the command. However,
that would be disingenuous. In fact, my position was on the very edge of the entrance
opening—technically neither in nor out—and I had every intention of remaining
there, and would have done so, but for the fact that a careless move on my part
caused me to lose my footing and slide down the passage, which, if you recall,
had a slope of perhaps forty-five degrees fifteen minutes. It was my body
striking the wall that disturbed the delicate equilibrium of the structure,
whose stones had already been—"

"Ramses."

"Yes,
Mama. I will endeavor to be brief. Once the passage was blocked and I realized
that my strength was inadequate for the purpose of freeing myself, I took
advantage of my position to explore the rest of the interior,
knowing
it would be some time before my absence was noted and a rescue party—"

"I
think, my son," said Emerson uneasily, "that your mama will excuse
you now. You had better go to bed."

"Yes,
Papa. But first there is a matter I feel obliged to bring to Mama's attention.
Gregson is—"

"I
will hear no more, wretched boy," I exclaimed, rising to my feet. "I
am thoroughly out of sorts with you, Ramses. Take yourself off at once."

"But,
Mama—"

I
started toward Ramses, my arm upraised—not indeed to strike, for I do not
believe in corporal punishment for the young except in cases of extreme
provocation—but to grasp him and take him bodily to his room. Misinterpreting
my intentions, the cat Bastet rose in fluid haste and wrapped her heavy body
around my forearm, sinking her teeth and claws into my sleeve. Emerson
persuaded the cat of her error and removed her—claw by claw—but instead of
apologizing, she chose to be offended. She and Ramses marched off side by side,
both radiating offended hauteur, the cat by means of her stiff stride and
switching tail, Ramses by neglecting to offer his usual formula of nightly
farewell. I daresay they would have slammed the door if there had been one to
slam.

Emerson
then suggested we retire. "After such a day, Peabody, you must be
exhausted."

"Not
at all," I said. "I am ready to go on talking for hours if you
like."

Emerson
declined this offer, however, and after gathering our belongings we started for
our tent. I was uneasy about leaving the others, but we had taken all possible
precautions, requesting Abdullah to close and bar the gates and to set a guard.
I felt sure I could rely on Donald, not only to watch over both his charges,
but
to maintain a respectful distance from one of them. Poor boy, he
was so in awe of the girl, he hardly dared speak to her, much less approach
her.

I
promised myself I would have a little talk with him on that subject. For in my
opinion (which is based on considerable experience), there is nothing that
annoys a woman so much as fawning, servile devotion. It brings out the worst in
women—and in men, let me add, for a tendency to bully the meek is not
restricted to my sex, despite the claims of misogynists. If someone lies down
and invites you to trample him, you are a remarkable person if you decline the
invitation.

I
told Emerson this as we strolled side by side through the starlit night. I
half-expected him to sneer, for he takes a poor view of my interest in the
romantic affairs of young people; instead he said thoughtfully, "So you
recommend the Neanderthal approach, do you?"

"Hardly.
What I recommend is that all couples follow our example of marital
equality."

I
reached for his hand. It lay lax in my grasp for a moment; then his strong
fingers twined around mine and he said, "Yet you seem to be saying that a
certain degree of physical and moral force—"

"Do
you remember remarking on one occasion that you had been tempted to snatch me
up onto a horse and ride with me into the desert?" I laughed. Emerson did
not; in fact, his look was strangely wistful as he replied, "I do remember
saying it. Are you suggesting I ought to have done so?"