The Falcon at the Portal: An Amelia Peabody Mystery (37 page)

"I do not see how I can come with you today, Emerson," I said. "I must do a bit of shopping. The child hasn't a stitch to her name, or a proper child's cot, or a hairbrush, or anything she needs. We must fit up a room as a nursery and find a nursemaid; Fatima cannot look after her and carry out her other duties. Now I must also make certain the dahabeeyah is ready for Lia and David. I cannot take Fatima with me, since the child is getting comfortable with her, so—"

"Don't tell me about it, Peabody," Emerson growled. "Ah, here is Ramses. All right, are you, my boy?"

He looked as if he had not slept a wink. I handed him the telegram and had the pleasure of seeing his haggard face brighten.

"It will be good to see them," he said.

"It will be good to have them on the dig," said Emerson. "All these interruptions have wreaked havoc with my schedule. Yesterday was a total loss, and your mother is planning to waste the entire day in Cairo, and Nefret is off somewhere, and ... I trust
you
have no other plans, Ramses?"

"No, sir."

Ramses said no more. Emerson's brow furrowed—not with annoyance, but with paternal anxiety. He knew better than to express it; instead he attempted a diversion.

"I have a new plan," he announced.

I said nothing. Ramses said, "Yes, sir," in the same polite, disinterested voice.

"If Vandergelt's idea is right, someone is trying to keep us away from the site. That means—it must mean—that there is something at Zawaiet el 'Aryan this chap doesn't want us to find. So," said Emerson triumphantly, "we will find it. Not by random digging or concocting baseless theories, but by methodical excavation that will sweep the site from side to side and top to bottom! Well? What do you say?"

"It will be a long job," Ramses said. He looked a little more alert, though.

"We'll hire as many men as we can use. With the four of us, and David and Lia and Selim and Douad, there will be ample supervision."

"Excellent, Emerson," I said, frowning at the list I had made out and adding another item.

Emerson looked over my shoulder and read the words aloud. " 'Small enamel bath.' Hmmm. The trouble with your mother, Ramses, is that she has no maternal instincts to speak of."

I did not mind being the butt of Emerson's little joke, for it actually brought a smile to Ramses's face. Emerson popped a last bit of toast into his mouth and left the room, beckoning Ramses to follow. Ramses paused by my chair, bent his tall frame and gave me a quick, clumsy kiss on the cheek. In fact it landed on my ear, but it was meant for my cheek, I believe. When I turned toward him he stepped back, looking embarrassed.

"Watch over your father," I said in a low voice. "Unobtrusively, of course. He is superbly indifferent to his own safety, but the plan he has proposed is likely to be dangerous."

"I know. I will do my best, Mother."

"And look after yourself. Be careful. Don't take foolish chances."

"Yes, Mother. Thank you, Mother."

"Ramses?"

"Yes, Mother?"

"Don't worry about Nefret. I will stop by the Vandergelts and fetch her home."

"I am not worrying about her," Ramses said. "She is a free agent and will do as she likes."

I was a trifle put out with Nefret myself. We all sympathized with her feelings on the subject of men who consorted with the unfortunate women she was trying to help, but in my opinion her behavior had been somewhat theatrical. No doubt she had already had time to reconsider and feel ashamed of herself for jumping to conclusions about her brother. I had no objection to making her feel a bit more ashamed. By stopping to see the Vandergelts I could kill two birds with one stone, since I was anxious to apprise them of the situation.

Cyrus had caused the
Valley of the Kings
to be brought to the dock near Giza. It was only a short walk, but I accepted Ali's offer to get me a cab, since I meant to take Katherine and Nefret on to Cairo with me. We would have a pleasant morning shopping for the child and then return for luncheon at the house. Cyrus could meet us there or go to the site.

I got it all worked out during the five-minute drive to the dock. One of the ferries was just unloading, so I had to make my way through a throng of tourists to the southern section where the dahabeeyah was moored. One of the crewmen, lounging in the bow, saw me coming and of course recognized me immediately. He hastened to run out the gangplank and emitted a shout that brought Cyrus on deck.

"Why, say now, I didn't expect to see you so early," he exclaimed. "Figured you'd be on your way to Zawaiet."

"I hope I am not de trop, Cyrus."

"You could never be that, Amelia. Come and have coffee, we're just finishing breakfast."

Cyrus lived in princely style; the table was set with crystal and silver and every appointment was of the best. Golden damask draperies had been pulled back from the long windows of the salon, admitting a flood of sunlight that brought out the beautiful colors of the Persian rugs covering the floor. Katherine jumped up from her chair and embraced me.

"How lovely to see you, Amelia. We intended to come by this evening since we had not heard from you for several days."

"We have been somewhat preoccupied, Katherine. No doubt Nefret told you what happened yesterday. Where is she?"

"Why, Amelia, I have no idea." Katherine's smile faded. "Why did you think she was here? What happened?"

"Oh, dear," I said, feeling as if the breath had been knocked out of me. "You haven't seen her?"

"Now calm down, my dears," Cyrus said in his slow, soothing drawl. "Let's just figure out what the situation is and then we'll know what to do about it. First things first. Did Miss Nefret say she was coming to us, Amelia?"

"No. No, what she said—wrote, rather—was that she was going to spend a few days with friends. I assumed ..."

"Sure you would. But we're not her only friends, and maybe a young thing like that would rather be with folks her own age. This was yesterday? Uh-huh. Well, we'll track her down, don't you worry. Now tell us what happened."

As Cyrus later confessed, he expected "the usual disasters you folks get into." He listened with friendly interest and occasional ejaculations of surprise, but when I had finished my tale he inquired, "Nobody dead, wounded or kidnapped? Well, that's a pleasant surprise! I'm relieved it's not serious."

Katherine, being a woman, came closer to understanding. "I am so sorry, dear Amelia. Sorry for Ramses, too. In wishing to spare you, he only made things worse, but he thought he was acting for the best."

"Spare me what? Do not suppose for one moment, Katherine, that I doubt his word. He is incapable of doing such a thing, and if he had, which he never would, he would shoulder the responsibility like a man! He nobly and generously came to the rescue of that innocent child! And now," I added bitterly, while Katherine made conciliatory noises and Cyrus patted my shoulder, "now he will suffer for it. If
you
suspect him—"

"My dear, I don't! You misunderstood. Ramses would no more do such a thing than—than Cyrus. You think that nephew of yours is the child's father?"

"He must be. Wait till you see her, Katherine. The resemblance is astonishing."

Katherine had poured coffee for me. I took a sip. "Excellent coffee," I said. "I am on my way to Cairo, Katherine, to get some things for the child. I thought you might like to join me. Cyrus, Emerson has gone with Ramses to Zawaiet. He has concluded your idea was correct, and he is determined to clear the site to bedrock."

"If that isn't just like Emerson," Cyrus exclaimed. "Tell him there's a rattlesnake in the bushes and he goes straight for it. I guess maybe I'd better get along over there and sit on a rock with a rifle. Cat, my dear, you going with Amelia?"

"I would love to. It will be delightful buying things for a child again. How old is she, Amelia?"

"We will discuss details on the way," I said, finishing my coffee. "We will lunch in Cairo, I think; it is later than I had realized. You will both dine with us this evening? We have much to talk about."

"We sure do," Cyrus muttered. "I'll just get my coat and be on my way."

"And I will get my hat and handbag," said Katherine. She fixed her steady, compassionate green eyes on my face. "Amelia—"

"Later, Katherine. You and I have much to talk about too."

Men are very well in their way, and even more useful than women in other ways; but they are simply incapable of comprehending certain things. The long ride into Cairo gave me a chance to converse privately with a woman on whose intelligent advice I relied. I had not realized how desperately I yearned to confide in a friend. By the time we reached the Muski I was hoarse from talking.

"I do apologize, Katherine," I remarked in some embarrassment. "I had not meant to say so much."

"You could pay me no higher compliment, Amelia. You are my dearest friend; I owe my happiness to you. I only wish I could do more to help. It is hard to see one's children in trouble and be unable to relieve them."

"They are not children; they are young men and women, and must solve their own problems. I deplore Ramses's unfortunate habit of reticence; he has always been like that and probably always will be; but just between you and me, Katherine, I am very proud of him. It is Nefret with whom I am vexed at the moment. Really, life was much simpler when I had only murderers and thieves to deal with."

Men may jeer, and they do, but shopping does have a salutary effect. I had never bought clothing for a little girl; Nefret had been thirteen when she came to us. It proved to be unexpectedly pleasurable. {Catherine gently intervened once or twice, pointing out the impracticality of the garment I was considering, and mentioning certain practical items that had not occurred to me. We were loaded with parcels when we returned to the cab, and I had ordered a number of articles to be sent on.

We took luncheon at Shepheard's. Katherine saw my eyes wandering. "You are looking for Nefret, aren't you?"

"Foolish of me," I confessed. "It did occur to me, though, that she might have come here. She hasn't many friends, you know. She and Ramses and David have always been so self-sufficient— too much so, perhaps. It will be a great relief to have Lia with us again. I know Nefret talks to her more confidentially than she does to me."

"That is only natural," Katherine said.

"Yes."

"So you aren't going to call on her friends this afternoon?"

"It is too awkward, Katherine. How can I go round asking if they have seen her without admitting that she has run off and I don't know where the devil she is? Curse the girl, she has no business worrying us this way. Not that I am worried. Not at all. Gracious, look at the time. We still must stop by the
Amelia."

So we did, and found several of Fatima's nieces, including the much-maligned Karima, already hard at work. A brief discussion with Karima convinced me there was little for me to do. I knew Fatima would insist upon inspecting the premises herself and adding the final touches—including rosebuds in the washbasin and dried petals between the sheets. Not even Emerson had dared object to these procedures (in fact, I rather think he liked them though he would never have admitted it).

I dropped Katherine off at the
Valley of the Kings,
since she wanted to bathe and change before coming on to us. Ramses and Emerson had not yet returned, but the house was full of people, all women. One of them was Daoud's wife Kadija. The others, sitting meekly in a row in the kitchen, appeared to be prospective nannies.

It was as well the men were late, for they would undoubtedly have complained about the unnecessary fuss that ensued, as I inspected and approved the quarters Fatima had selected for the child and her attendant, unloaded and unwrapped my purchases, interviewed nannies, and greeted Kadija. Kadija was a very large, very dark-complected, very silent woman. At least she was usually silent with me; Nefret insisted she had a wicked sense of humor and could tell extremely amusing stories. On her mother's side Kadija was of Nubian blood; from the women of her mother's family she had learned the recipe for a certain magical ointment which she and Daoud smeared on everyone who required healing. Nefret had become a convert to its efficacy, so I had stopped objecting to it, though it turned the skin of the user a horrid shade of green.

I do not believe that child had set a foot on the ground since I left. Kadija was carrying her when I got there, and was only persuaded to put her down when I insisted she try on some of the garments I had purchased.

Sennia did not want to wear a dress. The little slippers were rejected even more forcibly. The enamel bath was well received, however, since splashing quantities of water about the room is a favorite occupation of the young, and so were several inconsequential objects I had just happened to acquire. We—Kadija, Fatima, and I and Basima, the proud winner of the contest for nursemaid—were sitting on the floor of the new nursery watching Sennia play when we heard voices down below. The child had been listening. She made a beeline for the door.

"Catch her, Kadija, she is unclothed!" I exclaimed.

Kadija's big gentle hands intercepted the fugitive and held her fast. "Now that you have come to live with the Inglizi you must wear clothing," she explained. "Put on a pretty robe. You want him to be proud of you, don't you?"

Ramses came straight up, as I had thought he would. Kadija's appeal had done the trick; we had barely time to get the anxious little creature into one of the new frocks before he appeared in the doorway. After he had admired the result she insisted on showing him her new possessions one by one. Every frock, every bit of underclothing, every ribbon and toy had to be examined and approved. Ramses was dusty and sweat-stained, but the lines of weariness in his face smoothed out as she trotted back and forth, and when she dragged the doll onto his lap he actually laughed.