Seeing a Large Cat (34 page)

"He would never do such a thing. She will be quiet as long as one of us holds her."

"Inshallah," David said dourly.

The night wore on. There was no sign of movement on the deck of the other dahabeeyah, and the smooth silvery pathway of light across the water remained undisturbed. The stillness was broken only by an occasional stamp or snort from Risha, waiting unhobbled and untied on the bank, and by the distant howls of jackals and pariah dogs. Sekhmet's raucous purr faded into silence; David was holding her in the crook of his arm and she had fallen asleep. Nefret stifled a yawn. David put his free arm around her, and she leaned against him, grateful for the strength and warmth and affectionate support of his arm. Her eyes were getting heavy and the night air was cool.

He is much more demonstrative than Ramses, she thought drowsily. I suppose Ramses cannot help being reserved, poor boy; Englishmen don't hug one another, and Aunt Amelia hardly ever puts her arms around him or kisses him. She is not demonstrative either-except, I suppose, with the Professor. They are all dear to me, though, in their different ways. Perhaps if I were friendlier with Ramses . ..

She was half-asleep, her head against David's shoulder, when she felt him stiffen. There was no break in the smooth ripple of the moonlit waters. David was looking at the bank. Something moved there, pale in the shadows. Ramses? Indistinct as the form was, it did not appear to be wearing skirts.

"Now? " she whispered.

"Wait." Tensed and watching, David removed his arm.

"He hasn't seen him," Nefret said, softly but urgently. "Where is he? "

Her pronouns were confused, but David understood. "I don't know. Hang on."

He thrust the cat into her arms and started toward the gangplank.

The pale form slipped through the trees, avoiding the moonlit open spaces. It was not Ramses; she could not have said how she knew, but she was as certain as if she had seen his face. Had David forgot the signal? Should she give it?

Sekhmet spared her the decision. Annoyed at being rudely awakened and finding Nefret's grasp uncomfortable, she opened her mouth and complained.

Not until later did Nefret understand the sequence of events. It all happened so fast, she had no time to think or react. The sharp crack of a rifle broke the silence, and a man burst out of the shadows and darted across the moonlit ground. Reaching the bank, he flung himself into the water.

Ramses was close on his heels, but not close enough. He had pulled the robe over his head and tossed it aside. As he dived in after the fugitive, several more shots rang out.

"Damn, damn, damn!" said Nefret.

When she reached David he was standing on the bank. He had taken off his coat. She started to reach for him and then realized she was still holding Sekhmet. With another, more emphatic "Damn!" she put the cat down and took hold of David's arm. "What happened? Who fired those shots?"'

"I did." She turned to see Bellingham coming toward them. He was formally dressed, even to his white stock. The rifle was still in his hand. He took a handful of shells out of his pocket and began to reload. "I apologize for alarming you, Miss Forth. I did not know you were there."

The moonlight was so bright she could see every line on his face. It was courteously impassive, but he looked from her to David to the Amelia in a way that brought the blood flooding into her cheeks. She said hotly, "I had good reason to be alarmed. You might have hit Ramses."

"Ramses?" Bellingham's eyebrows rose. "What are you talking about? I fired at Dutton Scudder. It could only have been he. I knew he would come after Dolly, I waited for him- "

"Oh, do be quiet," Nefret exclaimed. She turned her back on him. "Do you see him, David?"

"No. I'm going in after him."

Again she caught hold of him, resisting his attempt to pull away. "The current will have drawn them downstream. They would come ashore farther down."

"Yes, right." He began running along the bank. Nefret stumbled over Sekhmet but managed to stay on her feet. As she followed David she heard a startled exclamation, a thud, and a yowl from Sekhmet. Bellingham must have tripped over the cat too.

Before they had gone more than a few yards she saw two dripping figures coming toward them. David jolted to a stop. "Thank God," he exclaimed breathlessly. "But who-how-is it-how did he get-"

One of the men was Ramses. The other was not the fugitive.

"I forgot to tell you," Nefret said. "I told the Professor everything."

"A damned good thing, too," said Emerson. "Can you make it back to the dahabeeyah, my boy? "

"Yes, sir, certainly." But he leaned gratefully against the strong arm that braced his shoulders and did not draw away when they started back along the bank. Bellingham had gone; a lighted window on the Valley of the Kings indicated activity of some kind. He is probably cleaning his gun, Nefret thought angrily.

Not far from the spot where Scudder had jumped into the water she saw the cat. Sekhmet was playing with something, batting it with her paw, trying to toss it into the am David bent and took it from her. It was a straw hat with a black band round the crown.

"I cannot decide whether you are careless or just unlucky," Nefret remarked, slapping a square of sticking plaster over the furrow that had creased Ramses's scalp.

"Foolhardy, rather," Emerson grunted. He looked disconsolately at his waterlogged pipe and returned it to his pocket. "You ought to have realized that Bellingham is so bent on killing Scudder that he would mow down anyone who got in his way."

"If it had not done so earlier, that fact would have dawned on me tonight," said Ramses.

He flinched back as Nefret thrust her face close to his. "The wrinkles and the warts washed off in the water," she said, inspecting him. "But your teeth need to be cleaned. You had better do it now before you forget. Here is the alcohol."

They had given the hat back to Sekhmet. Her claws hooked possessively in it, she was chewing the brim in a thoughtful manner.

"You saw no sign of Scudder? " David asked. "He may have drowned, you know."

"Unlikely," Ramses said, deciding not to shake his head. He was still a little dizzy. "He is a strong swimmer. I might have got him, though, if I had been unimpaired."

"I wasn't trying to get him," Emerson said placidly. "Not after I realized you were in difficulty."

"Thank heaven you were there," David said. "I failed to realize Ramses was hurt or I would have-"

"Don't call yourself names," Nefret interrupted. "I held you back. I would have let you go-and gone with you!-if I had not known the Professor was on the job."

She beamed admiringly at Emerson, who beamed back at her.

"Father was in your room," Ramses said. "When you went there, ostensibly to get your knife-"

"I told him what you were planning," Nefret said calmly.

"And I," said Emerson, "went up to the top deck, where I had an excellent view of the proceedings. I was in the water almost as soon as Ramses, but since I was some distance away it took a while to reach him."

"I am very grateful, Father," said Ramses formally.

"Hmph," said Emerson, giving him a sharp look. "We are a step farther along, even though Scudder got away from us. We know who he was."

"Was? " Nefret repeated. "You believe he is dead, then? "

"No. He will not appear as Tollington again; that is why I used the past tense. But it is clear, surely, that he has another persona. He cannot have spent the past five years as an American tourist."

"And we are no nearer to knowing his other identity," David murmured. "Unless my grandfather..."

"Yes, we will certainly have to discuss this with Abdullah," Emerson agreed. "But no more talk tonight. You young people need your rest. Go to bed at once, boys, and I will take Nefret home. Sleep as late as you like tomorrow."

"Mother will ask questions if we are not there for breakfast," Ramses said.

Emerson had risen. He gave his son a look of surprised reproach. "I intend to tell your mother everything, Ramses. A

happy marriage depends on complete honesty between husband and wife."

"But, sir," Nefret said in alarm.

"Well, perhaps not the laudanum," Emerson conceded. "And I suppose there is no harm in allowing her to believe that this was your first unauthorized visit here. There's no keeping the rest of it from her, though. She knows a bullet wound when she sees one, and she'II insist on having a look at Ramses, you can be sure of it. And," he added, "she will undoubtedly claim she knew about Tollington all along!"

"I began to suspect Mr. Tollington some time ago," I said.

We were having a late breakfast; I had overslept, which I seldom do, but Emerson's narrative-together with the cup of strong tea he brought to my bedside-had blown away the last shreds of drowsiness. I did not miss the glances the others exchanged when I made that claim, and injustice to myself I elaborated on it.

"It was the clue that was not there. You remember, Emerson? What was missing was the lady's jewelry."

"Obviously," Emerson began, scowling. "He took it to-"

"My dear, it is not obvious at all. Just follow my reasoning, all of you. Whether she eloped with him or was carried off, she had with her her finest garments, including a ball gown. That sort of toilette demands elegant jewelry, and a good deal of it. Remembering the jewels Bellingham gave his young daughter, we can assume he showered even finer things on his young wife. They were with her when she left him, and they were not on her body. After Dutton had murdered her in a fit of passion, he was seized with remorse. He buried her in those elegant garments, even replacing her-er-underclothing, but not her jewels. Not even her wedding ring.

"If sold through illicit channels, as it would have to have been, even a parure of precious stones would bring a relatively modest sum-not enough to support Scudder in European style for five years, even in Egypt. Our initial assumption still stands. He must have spent at least part of that time as an Egyptian. I think he kept the money he got from the jewels in reserve, awaiting the return of his enemy. Though not sufficient to maintain him for the entire period, it would be enough to enable him to live in the luxurious style of a wealthy tourist for a few weeks or months-long enough to strike up an acquaintance with the Bellinghams and follow them wherever they went. When I first met Mr. Tollington' I believed him to be an old friend of the Bellinghams, but certain casual statements of Miss Dolly's made it clear he was not travelling with them. I was not certain it was he," I concluded modestly. "But as soon as I realized Scudder might be playing the role of a tourist, Tollington became a prime suspect."

"The name was a stroke of genius," Ramses said. "Who would suspect a man named Booghis Tucker Tollington?"

"I did," I said. "And so, I gather, did you. Ramses, I am extremely put out with you. I feel sure you were the ringleader in last night's affair, but David and Nefret must bear their share of the blame as well. I want your solemn word that you will never again-"

"Now, now, Peabody," Emerson said, rising. "I have already reprimanded the culprits, and I feel certain we can depend on them to-er-behave sensibly in the future. Hmph. Perhaps, my dear, you ought not accompany us to the Valley. Give that ankle another day of rest, eh?"

I pushed my chair back. The children were already on their feet, ready to bolt. "Naturally I intend to accompany you, Emerson. There is nothing at all wrong with me. We will leave as soon as I have had a look at Ramses."

Ramses's face fell. "I assure you, Mother, there is no need for-"

I led him to our room and made him sit down near the window. Nefret had done a neat job, but I disinfected the wound again and wound a few strips of cloth around his head to hold the cottonwool in place. He objected, of course.

"Sticking plaster does not adhere well to hair," I explained.

"It adheres only too well," said my son. "As I observed when you removed it."

"Ramses." I put my hand on his cheek and forced him to look up at me. "It is not a serious injury, but if the bullet had come an inch closer... Must you take such chances? Promise me you will be more prudent."

After a moment of silence Ramses said, "Prudence does not appear to be a prominent characteristic of this family. I am sorry to have worried you, Mother. May I go now?"

"I suppose so," I said with a sigh. I knew that was all I was likely to get out of him. Even a promise would be worthless; Ramses's definition of "prudence" would certainly not agree with mine.

"It was the dream, wasn't it?" he said suddenly.

"What?"

"You dreamed of a large cat carrying a diamond necklace," Ramses said. "That was what made you think of Mrs. Bellingham's jewelry."

"Perhaps," I said cautiously. He held the door for me, and as we left the room I felt obliged to add, "Such dreams are not portents or omens, you know, only the subconscious mind at work."

Ramses looked thoughtful.

The others were waiting. Nefret inspected Ramses and said with a laugh, "How very romantic you look, my boy! You had better avoid Miss Dolly; the bandage and the mustache make a devastating combination."

"Stop teasing him, Nefret," I said, seeing Ramses's cheek bones darken. "The bandage was necessary, and the mustache is-er-quite a nice mustache."

Ramses's jaw dropped. "But, Mother! I thought you-"

"It was something of a shock initially," I admitted. "But I have become accustomed to it. Just make sure you keep it clean and tidy, my dear. I believe that is a crumb ... ?"

I removed the crumb and gave him a kindly smile.

"If we are going," Emerson said in a loud voice, "let us go."

As we were leaving the house a man whom I recognized as one of Cyrus's servants approached and handed me a letter.

"Cyrus has asked us to dine," I said after reading the brief missive.

"Damned if I will," said Emerson.

"Then I will ask him to dine with us." Taking a pencil from my pocket, I scribbled a note on the back of the paper and handed it to the servant. "There are a few loose ends to be tied up in the Fraser affair," I continued as Emerson took my hand and led me away. "Aren't you curious to know what transpired last night between Cyrus and Mrs. Jones?"