Mr Impossible (12 page)

He had to
leaveCairo.

But he had no money
and dare not seek help from his family or friends.

And so he’d
come to Bulaq, to look for work on a boat, one that would take him
far away fromCairoas quickly as possible.

This one promised
to suit his purposes.

“
We need
fighters,” the captain said. “Some brigands have taken an
Englishman hostage. We go to hunt for him. My master, the owner of
this boat, commands us to be ready to sail by daybreak tomorrow. It
is dangerous work, and needs men of courage as well as skill.”

Akmed’s heart
beat with joy. Silently he thanked his Maker for this chance to help
his master. He told the captain he spoke English and a little French,
and had waited upon English travelers before and knew their customs.
He knew how to shave them, dress them, cook and sew for them.

“
Regrettably,
I have no letters of reference,” Akmed said. “The
soldiers destroyed all my belongings.”

The captain smiled.
“Anyone can forge a letter,” he said. “My master
judges by performance. Do well, and you’ll be well. Do badly,
and it will go badly with you.”

And in this way,
all unwitting, Akmed became an employee of the Golden Devil.

THE POLICE ESCORTED
Rupert and Mrs. Pembroke to a guardhouse inCairo, and it was late the
following afternoon before Mr. Beechey was able to arrange for their
release. By this time, Mrs. Pembroke was in a murderous rage, and
Rupert had to take her firmly by the arm as they left the guardhouse,
to prevent her doing an injury to one or several members of the
police force.

They had
immediately disarmed Rupert but had not even searched her. Having
quickly perceived that his so-called Maltese translator was a she,
not a he, they foolishly assumed she was harmless. They kept her
separated from her alleged accomplice for reasons of propriety rather
than any fear of the two “suspects” combining forces.

To make sure the
police continued in ignorance, Rupert hustled her away from the place
and whistled for transportation. Two donkey drivers with their beasts
came running. Rupert picked her up and planted her on one donkey and
swiftly mounted the other. She glared at him but gave the drivers the
direction, and off they went, the men run-ning ahead, the donkeys
trotting behind through the crowded streets.

Her servants who,
amazingly, had not run away when the police arrived at the pyramids,
had returned toCairowhen their mistress was arrested. When she came
home, they bustled into action. Fresh coffee and a large tray of
un-English food appeared within a quarter hour of her arrival.

The mistress
glowered at it, then yanked off her turban and threw it on the floor.

“
I have let
myself be made fool of!” she cried. “If I had listened to
Lord Noxley, this never would have happened. But no, I had to go
toGizaon a wild-goose chase with a man who is a known troublemaker.
Had anyone seen fit to inform me of the number of times you’ve
been arrested, I should have left you to rot in the dungeon! I might
have found Miles by now, instead of wasting an entire day and more!”

Her hair tumbled
about her shoulders. It was thick and wavy and gleamed like red gems
where the light caught it. Ruby and garnet. And her eyes were like…
No, they were not like emeralds. This was a different green.

Rupert dropped onto
the divan and considered the various items in the small dishes. “You
gave me to believe that Noxious wanted you to sit quietly at home
while he went aboutCairointerrogating his friends. You seemed unhappy
about this method.”

“
That is not
the point! The point is…” She trailed off and looked
about the room. Her gaze settled upon the wooden Egyptians staring
back mutely from the shelf.

“
I should
have gone mad, sitting at home, waiting,” she said tautly.

“
Instead, you
went toGizaand came back with a clearer picture of your enemy,”
Rupert said.

The green gaze
shifted to him. “I did?”

“
Of course
you did,” Rupert said. “You’re a trifle overset at
the moment, else you’d realize how much you discovered.”

She came up to the
divan. Her remarkable face wore a guarded expression. “Such
as?”

“
Even I
collected a few clues,” he said. He held up his thumb. “First,
we are not dealing with common miscreants but an organization.“
His index finger went up. ”Second, the man in charge is clever:
kidnapping, papyrus theft, and today’s events—all neatly
arranged. Recollect that it was two ordinary Egyptians who were
killed atGiza. We were not harmed, except in our pride. Our man knows
how far he can go.“

“
Egyptian
life is held very cheap,” she murmured, nodding.

Rupert continued to
keep count with his fingers. “Third, he knows how to manipulate
the police. Interesting, isn’t it, how they were on the spot as
we came out, how they arrested us first, then went looking for the
bodies.”

“
Bribed,”
she said.

She began to pace,
innocently unaware of the enticing way the thin trousers slid against
her legs, the way they concealed then revealed the turn of ankle and
calf and thigh, the way the fabric shifted with the sway of her hips.

He watched, not at
all innocent or unaware. “Fourth.” He paused briefly. “It
grieves me to admit it, but Noxious was right about one thing: French
or not, our villain has an impressive network of spies.”

“
How else
would he have had time to arrange events atGiza?” she muttered,
still pacing. “There cannot be many men inCairowho meet these
criteria. It must be someone who has lived here for some time. He is
well connected to the local underworld. He probably moves freely in
the European community. He may be a member of the pasha’s
court. Anyone close to Muhammad Ali has influence, power.”

“
How many
people qualify?” Rupert said.

“
I’ve
no idea,” she said. “Egyptattracts opportunists. People
who would be considered disreputable in their native countries can
achieve a degree of respectability here.”

She stopped
abruptly, glanced at him, then away again.

After a moment she
came back to the divan and sank onto it with her usual quick grace.
She sat much nearer to him than she’d previously done, not
quite an arm’s length away.

She poured coffee,
her gaze abstracted. Two cups. Apparently, he was forgiven. For the
moment.

Rupert took his cup
and drank happily. There was nothing like Turkish coffee. Or Turkish
trousers on an attractive Englishwoman. He wished the jacket were
equally revealing. He imagined her draped in gauzy silks, her
intriguing body stretched out upon the divan while he with hands and
mouth ascertained her precise dimensions.

He looked up to
find her gazing steadily at him.

It was unsettling.
For a moment he believed she could see straight through into his
brain. Not that there was much to see. Still, he doubted she’d
feel more amiably toward
him
if, for instance, she could
discern how vast an amount of mental space his fantasies of seduction
occupied, compared to the cramped corner devoted to the problem of
murdered guides and corrupt police.

“
Before we go
any further, I must say something,” she said. “I have a
temper.”

“
I noticed,”
he said. “It’s quite exciting. I don’t know what
you were saying to the police at the guardhouse, but you didn’t
seem to be trying to win them over.”

“
You guessed
correctly,” she said. “I was pointing out how illogical
it was for us to kill our guides and leave ourselves in utter
darkness.”

“
Is that what
you were telling them?” he said. “It sounded a great deal
more complicated.”

Her color rose. “I
may have commented unfavorably on their intelligence and added one or
two unflattering references to their parentage.”

“
That
is
exciting,” he said. “It’s a wonder they didn’t
behead us on the spot.”

“
I was not
thinking clearly,” she said. “I have never been arrested
before. It was infuriating. The thickheadedness of the police was
beyond anything I have ever before encountered, or even imagined.”

“
Yet somehow
these thickheads penetrated your masterful disguise,” he said.

She looked down at
herself. Her eyes widened. She put her hand up to her head. “Good
grief,” she said. “I’d com-pletely forgotten.”
She rose hastily. “I am not at all presentable.”

Her idea of
“presentable” was buttoned up, pinned up, and covered up,
all in black. Rupert vastly preferred the disheveled and
temperamental version—especially the tumbled hair, which begged
his fingers to tangle in it.

“
It’s
only me,” he said, helping himself to a date. “I don’t
mind if you’re a bit of a mess.” He threw her a look of
innocent inquiry. “Or were you were wishing to make yourself
more attractive to me?”

She sat back down.
“I was explaining about my temper— and perhaps I ought to
mention your genius for setting it off.” She shut her eyes, and
after a moment opened them again.

Rupert wondered if
she was counting to ten. People often did that when conversing with
him.

“
I wish to
apologize,” she said.

“
That isn’t
nec—”

“
It
is
necessary,” she cut in. “I should have been wretched if
you hadn’t taken me toGiza. And we did learn something, as you
said.”

He didn’t
want or need an apology. He didn’t mind her temper in the
least. Liked it, actually. Still, it was sporting of her to
apologize.

She’d
displayed the same pluck inGiza. Since she did seem to have a morbid
aversion to being shut up in dark places, she must have been sick
with fear. Yet she’d gritted her teeth and kept on, emerging in
fine fettle for battling the police.

Even a night’s
incarceration had not shaken her.

Meanwhile he, who’d
abundant experience with jails, had not spent the most comfortable
night. He’d told himself the police wouldn’t harm her.
They’d restrained themselves during her tirades, hadn’t
they? All the same, he’d spent the night sharply alert,
listening for any indication that she was in distress.

He banished the
puzzling recollection. She was a handful. He’d seen that from
the start. Not a restful sort of female. She even obliged him to
think from time to time.

He did so now,
eager to put the apology behind them.

“
Obviously,
our villain is trying to delay and mislead you,” he said. ‘That
tells us your brother is unharmed and probably not far away.“

She nodded, but her
green gaze was abstracted, shifting from side to side.

Rupert returned to
eating while he watched her think.

After a few
minutes’ hard cogitation, she said, “All our clues point
to a clever, powerful, and dangerous person. Surely someone
inCairowould know who the most likely suspects are. Lord Noxley…”
She shook her head. “No, we need to talk to someone who’s
made his home here, someone who knows everybody and everything.”

She looked up at
him, then past him at the row of inscrutable wooden figures on the
shelf. “Good grief. The merchant.”

Rupert looked that
way, too.

“
We bought
most of those figures from the same man who sold Miles the papyrus,”
she said. “That’s where we should have started, with
Vanni Anaz. Who told him the story of the lost pharaoh’s tomb?
How many people did he tell? How many showed an interest in the
papyrus?”

“
Excellent
point.” Rupert swallowed the last of his coffee and rose.
“Begin at the beginning. And we’d better do it sooner
rather than later—before our villain guesses our next move.”

“
Now?”
she said. Her hand went to her head, and she looked down at herself
in dismay.

He picked up the
turban she’d flung down. “I’ll help you,” he
said.

Chapter 6

DAPHNE’S MIND
WASN’T AT ITS SHARPEST. SHE’D lain awake last night
straining to hear what was happening elsewhere in the guardhouse and
berating herself for losing her temper with the police. If they beat
or tortured Mr. Carsington, it would be her fault.