The Khamsin Curse (33 page)

Gideon acquiesced and they
parted ways.

Miss Lee’s room was actually
closer so the Countess went there first. She feigned sympathy but
Miss Lee was not having it; her manner was haughty and her tone
abrupt.

“How would you feel if your
father and the man you loved had been murdered?” she posed
rhetorically. “I understand Dr Watson has returned. What did he
have to say about the post mortem?”

“I will make an announcement
prior to dinner.”

“You! You will make an
announcement! Who put
you
in charge? This is
my
ship!”

“Yes, but we are dealing with a
double murder. In fact, there has just been another double murder.
The two dam saboteurs have been found dead. If you obstruct the
course of British justice I will have the Acting High Commissioner
lock you in your room until we reach Cairo.”

“He wouldn’t dare! Besides,
he’s a hopeless dipsomaniac. I will lodge an official complaint
with the American embassy as soon as we return to Cairo!”

“Provided you make it to Cairo.
Four murders. Who knows who’ll be next?”

Miss Lee’s voice faltered.
“You’re…You’re trying to frighten me.”

“I’m not even trying yet.
Someone released ten scorpions today. They were in Mrs Baxter’s
green Morocco jewel case. Don’t get into bed without checking.”

Miss Lee’s eyes flew to the bed
and she gulped. “That’s…That’s absurd. Why would Mrs Baxter keep
scorpions in the green Morocco jewel case I gave her?”

“That’s what I’m about to ask
her but first I want to know where your burqa is.”

“My burqa? Now I know you’re
mad. It’s in the black leather trunk under the bed. You’re welcome
to look. I’m not touching anything until my maid has had a thorough
check.”

The Countess pulled out the
trunk and tossed clothes out willy-nilly. There was no burqa. She
stood up and put both hands on her hips. “Where is your burqa?”

Miss Lee’s bottom lip began to
quiver. “I…I have no idea. What is so important about my…my burqa?
I think you’re mad. I think you’re the killer! Get out! Get out of
my room! Get out before I scream for help!”

A piercing scream rent the air
but it didn’t come from Miss Lee.

It came from the lower
deck.

As the Countess rushed from the
room she heard the door slam and the key turn in the lock. It was
followed by a pathetic gurgling sound and a flood of tears.

Gideon caught up to her on the
stairs; his voice was dry and husky. “Thank God! I thought that was
you!”

She smiled weakly. She’d just
frightened Hypatia to death and she still had no idea where the
burqa was or who killed Hypatia’s father or lover. “It came from
this way.”

Ursula was poised in the
doorway of her uncle’s room. She looked terrified, paralysed, in a
state of shock. Daisy had an arm around her shoulder, trying to
comfort her. The door was standing open. Dr Watson was inside the
room, standing at the foot of the bed, equally paralysed. Herr Graf
was lying on his back on the bed, not moving, and on his pillow was
a rearing cobra, the neck fanned out, hissing, ready to strike.

Gideon pulled out his gun, took
three steps into the room, and shot it.

Ursula began to sob. Daisy led
her away. They were both shaking uncontrollably.

Dr Watson mustered the courage
to check the pulse of Herr Graf but he knew the German would be
dead. He hadn’t moved for the last few minutes, not even when the
gun went off.

“Where did that snake come
from?” asked Gideon when he was sure the two ladies had
retreated.

Dr Watson was still in shock
too and trying to find his voice. He swallowed hard and took a
couple of deep breaths. “I came in to speak to Herr Graf as you
know. I knocked and there was no answer so I opened the door. He
was stretched out on the bed the same as you see now. I didn’t see
the snake at first. It was nestled into the side of his body. I
thought he might have been poisoned or some such thing so I moved
closer to check and when the snake recoiled I got the fright of my
life. I’m afraid I leapt back and just froze. I didn’t have my gun
on me. I didn’t want to call out in case Ursula came running in so
I just stood there thinking what to do. Suddenly the door opened
and Ursula screamed. The snake seemed to sense the threat…that’s
when you arrived. Thank goodness you had your gun. To answer your
question - I have no idea where the snake came from or who would
want to kill Herr Graf apart from me. I didn’t like the man but
clearly someone liked him even less.”

“Yes, someone wanted him dead,”
agreed Gideon. “Cobras rarely bite. If the snake had just found its
way into his cabin by chance it would have found a place to hide.
It wouldn’t have crawled onto his bed and nestled up beside
him.”

The Countess stared at the
gruesome splatter on the wall behind the bed and gave a shudder. “I
think it’s safe to say the snake came in after Herr Graf lay down
on the bed. He’s lying on the counterpane. The sheets and blanket
haven’t been disturbed. If the snake was on top of the bed he would
have noticed it. It’s not small like a death adder which could have
been hidden under the pillow. Someone brought the snake in here and
placed it on the bed while he slept.”

“One of the servants must have
been paid to do it,” said Dr Watson.

“Or else Azrafel did it,”
concluded Gideon. “I think it’s time to arrest him.”

“Wait,” she said. “That scream
would have woken the dead. Where’s Lorna Baxter?”

Gideon shoved his gun back into
his jacket pocket. “You’re right. I’ll go and find her. I want some
answers. We still don’t know why she had those scorpions.”

He stormed off to the starboard
side and rapped sharply on Mrs Baxter’s cabin but there was no
answer. Gingerly, he threw open the door and stepped inside not
knowing what to expect – crocodiles, scorpions, snakes! Dr Watson
and the Countess followed when he gave the signal for them to
enter. Mrs Baxter was lying on her bed, shoeless, stockingless,
limp. She seemed woozy, drowsy, not quite herself. On the bedside
table was a packet of Paradise Lozenges. Dr Watson studied the
packet.

“Cocaine mostly, with a good
quantity of valerian. Product of Persia. That would account for why
she didn’t respond to the scream. I’ll sit with her until she wakes
up. I don’t think it’s safe to leave her on her own. We don’t know
that the scorpions belonged to her. Someone could have put them in
her case. We don’t even know if the Morocco case was hers. Someone
could have placed it in her room. She might even be the victim
here.”

“The case was hers,” affirmed
the Countess, noting an untorn burqa folded neatly on top of the
suitcase. “Hypatia told me she gave it to Mrs Baxter. Wealthy women
often give things they no longer need, even valuable things like
Morocco jewel cases, to their lady’s maid or a paid companion or a
governess. The question is: Who put the scorpions inside it?”

Dr Watson looked squarely at
his sleuthing counterpart. “That’s obvious, isn’t it?”

Gideon and Countess
Volodymyrovna left the doctor to watch over his patient. They
walked to the aft deck and stood side by side gazing at the
pristine blue water of the Nile. He offered her a cigarette and she
accepted; she was feeling nettled and hoped some long deep
inhalations of tobacco might help her to feel less cross with
herself.

“Have you formed any clear idea
about what’s going on?” he said, dropping his voice to a lower
register as he lighted the first cigarette and passed it to
her.

“Things are starting to fall
into place but I wouldn’t go so far as to say they are clear.
However, by the time dinner comes around I think I might be able to
explain it all.”

“Are you going to give me a
clue?”

“I think the ancient Egyptians
got it right. They did not fear Anubis. They feared and revered
Sekhmet the lioness and warrior goddess, pre-curser to the Sphinx.
And who controlled Apep the evil serpent, but Serket the scorpion
goddess. But even fiercer than Sekhmet and Serket was the Eye of
Ra, a powerful female entity who regularly caused great
destruction. She was mother, sister, wife, rolled into one. Imagine
that.”

“But we have neither mother,
nor sister, nor wife here. We have daughter, cousin, niece and
widow.”

“I was speaking metaphorically
about female power, not literally about female disempowerment.”

“Are you saying the four women
are in it together?”

“No, one of them is innocent. I
just have to decide which one. Can you send some servants to invite
both Colonel Moran and Ali Pasha to dinner?”

“I’ll do it personally. I need
some exercise. I forgot how sluggish the heat can make one feel.
It’s too easy to start feeling lazy. I need to clear my head too.
Are you anticipating trouble? Do you want me to invite Jim as
well?”

She thought about the offer;
his voice was steady but it must have cost him an effort to keep it
level. “No, let him sleep. His regiment is setting off at daybreak.
He’s got enough to worry about. I think we can handle any
eventualities now that we have Colonel Hayter on-side.”

For the remainder of the
afternoon everyone stayed locked in their cabins. No one trusted
anyone not to slip Deathstalkers into their room. The Countess was
the only one who came out for afternoon tea which was served on the
aft deck.

She watched Gideon slip down
the gangway with two men in tow. They were wrapped in jellabiyas
and they carted bulging canvas sacks. He went first to the army
encampment. A short time later, when he sailed out to Agilkia
Island to invite Ali Pasha to dinner, the two men were no longer
with him. Jim accompanied him in the felucca, and she recognized
Duffy and Brian too. Later, the felucca with the same four men
sailed to Philae. She presumed Jim was going to say goodbye to his
Irish father-figure and Gideon was going to issue the dinner
invitation to the gun for hire.

While she was contemplating
what Gideon was really up to, Dr Watson and Mrs Baxter joined her.
The American widow had heard about the death of Herr Graf from the
doctor, and he had convinced her take a soothing cup of tea and a
breath of fresh air to get over the shock. In reality, he wanted to
allow the Countess to get to the bottom of the scorpion incident.
He knew his fondness for the attractive redhead would skew his
impartiality.

“If you are looking for your
green leather, Morocco jewel case,” said the Countess blandly as
she poured the tea, “you’ll find it my cabin.”

Mrs Baxter gasped. “I must warn
you not to open it!”

“Someone beat me to it. The
scorpions have gone. May I ask what you were doing with scorpions
in your jewel case?”

Now, the Countess was prepared
for all sorts of outrageous excuses and any amount of imaginative
obfuscation but the truth came as a complete surprise. She was
suddenly on the receiving end of her own pet theory regarding blunt
honesty.

“I collect them,” said Mrs
Baxter. “There’s a man in Cairo who pays good money for them. They
are used to make scorpion wine. It’s an aphrodisiac, quite popular
if the Far East. I first heard about it when travelling with my
husband. I decided when I came to Egypt to supplement my income.
The Morocco case was a perfect receptacle; I don’t have any
valuable jewels. Scorpions can live for lengthy periods with no
food. I had collected ten scorpions and would have had double or
triple that number by the time we returned to Cairo. How did my
case come to be in your room?”

The boot was suddenly on the
other foot. “My maid spotted the case in the saloon. She thought it
was mine. I have an identical one but the colour is slightly
different. (She didn’t bother saying it was purple.) She opened it
up and saw the scorpions. They gave her quite a fright. Realising
her mistake, she left the case where it was. A short time later, Mr
Longshanks, thinking the case was mine because he had helped me fix
the clasp several days ago, brought it into my cabin. My maid
warned me about the scorpions, but when I opened it, the case was
empty.”

“So…So where are the scorpions
now?”

“I cannot say for sure but I
believe they were used to kill the dam saboteurs. Scorpions were
found in the luggage room where the men had been imprisoned.”

Mrs Baxter sipped her tea
thoughtfully. “You know, I suspected someone of being in my room,
looking through my things. I questioned the maid who cleans my room
but she swore she did not move my suitcase. That was back in Luxor.
Someone must have seen the scorpions back then. How horrible!” She
gave a shudder and poured herself another cup of tea.

Beaming broadly, Dr Watson
offered to retrieve the case from the Countess’s room while Lorna
Baxter finished her tea.

“He’s such a gentleman,” sighed
Mrs Baxter wistfully before changing the subject. “Is no one else
going to join us for afternoon tea?”

“Mr Longshanks had gone to
invite Colonel Moran and Ali Pasha to dine with us. And Colonel
Hayter is locked in his room.”

“Locked in his room?” The tone
was incredulous.

“Mr Longshanks accused Colonel
Hayter of selling archaeological permits at five times the going
rate – there was a bit of a contretemps, some punches thrown - but
I don’t think Mr Cassel’s Eastern advocate has any jurisdiction
over the Acting High Commissioner. He will be forced to release the
colonel when he returns from Philae. Dinner is likely to be very
lively and heated.”

“How extraordinary! This trip
is nothing like what I imagined it would be! My head is reeling! As
soon as Dr Watson returns with my case I think I’ll go and collect
more scorpions before dusk sets in. I saw some boys hanging around
the jetty. They usually know where to find scorpions and they’re
happy to be paid a couple of piastres to collect them. I shall
probably be able to replace the ones I’ve lost.”