The Golden One: A Novel of Suspense (31 page)

discuss Sahin Pasha in front of the girl, do we?” “It would be wiser not to, I believe. The feelings of young persons are notoriously changeable. She is angry with him now, but if she believed he was in danger —” “Yes, Mother, that is precisely what I had in mind.” When we returned to the saloon Nefret looked up from the paper on which she was drawing. “Esin wanted to know about the latest fashions,” she explained. “How is Mustafa’s sore . . . whatever?” “His toe,” I replied. “A slight infection. Where is Emerson?” “He said he was going to sit with Sethos.” She chuckled. “I think he’s looking for tobacco. He’s run out.” Emerson did not find any tobacco. He came back looking even more perturbed than deprivation of that unhealthy substance could explain. “Is he still sleeping?” I asked. “Yes. He — er — doesn’t look well.” “He isn’t well.” “Is someone sick?” Esin asked. I realized she was unaware of the latest arrival. “A — er — friend of ours. You know him as Ismail Pasha.” “He is here?” She jumped up and clapped her hands to her cheeks. “Why? Did my father send him? Has he come to take me back?” “Goodness, but you have a one-track mind,” I said. “He is a fugitive too. Your father became suspicious of him and he ran away.” “Oh.” She thought it over and her face brightened. “Then I must thank him. He risked himself for me!” “He is, after all, a gallant Englishman,” Ramses drawled. “Much braver and more chivalrous than I.” “But you are younger and more beautiful,” said Esin. That took care of Ramses. He said no more. The rest of us kept up a desultory conversation and the minutes dragged slowly by. There was much we could not say in Esin’s presence, and I couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse for getting rid of her. Sending her off to bed wouldn’t work; she had slept most of the day. Except for Selim, the rest of us had not. I persuaded Nefret to lie down and took Esin off into a corner so our voices would not disturb her. We found a common interest in women’s rights, and I told her all about the suffrage movement and how I had marched with the suffragists and been seized by a large constable. She declared that she would have done the same, and kicked the constable as well. Emerson sat in brooding silence, smoking Ramses’s cigarettes and slipping out of the room periodically to look in on his brother. Ramses brooded too, over Nefret, sitting quietly beside her with his eyes fixed on her face. After a while I took Esin with me to the kitchen and showed her how to make tea. It was the first time she had ever performed such a menial chore, I believe. She was certainly clumsy enough. However, we got the tray upstairs without disaster. Late in the afternoon the sun made its appearance, and shortly afterward Sethos made his. He was in a vile mood, which I had expected, and he had shaved his beard, which I had not expected. The strange gray-green eyes swept the room in a contemptuous and comprehensive survey. “Everybody here?” he inquired in his most offensive tone. “How nice.” I knew what concerned him most and I hastened to give him the news that would relieve his mind. “We believe Sir Edward has not gone to Gaza but to Khan Yunus.” “Oh?” He rubbed his chin. “Let us hope you are right.” “I am certain of it,” I said. “Tea?” “No.” He flung himself down on the divan. “You had better have some. Take it to him, Esin.” I handed her the cup. “Lemon, no sugar, isn’t that right?” His eyes met mine and his tight mouth turned up at this reminder of the last time we had taken tea together. Unfortunately it reminded Emerson too. He knew what had happened at that meeting, for of course I had confided fully in him. However, he confined his comments to a wordless grumble. “Are you really Ismail Pasha?” the girl asked doubtfully. She stood beside him, the cup held carefully in both hands. Sethos rose and took it from her. A smile transformed his haggard face, and the cultivated charm slipped onto him like a cloak. “Is it the absence of the beard that confused you? I am indeed the same man, and I am relieved to find you well and safe. My friends have looked after you?” The charm was a little tattered, but it was good enough for Esin. “Oh, yes, but I was frightened for a while; there was fighting and we had to run away.” “Tell me about it,” Sethos murmured. Her account was accurate, on the whole, though she made a thrilling tale of it. Sethos listened attentively, his mobile countenance expressing admiration, astonishment, and distress at appropriate intervals, but I could tell she had not his complete attention. He was listening and waiting — as were we all. The sunlight deepened to amber and then faded into gray, and there was still no sign of Sir Edward. Ramses lighted the lamps. I was about to suggest we do something about supper when the long-awaited sound of footsteps was heard and Sir Edward came into the room. In that first moment he had eyes only for his chief. Had I doubted the warmth of their friendship, the looks of relief on both faces would have proved it. Being English, they did not express their feelings. “It’s good to see you, sir,” Sir Edward said coolly. “Mustafa told me you were here.” “Youought to have been here” was the equally cool reply. “Sit down and have a cup of tea.” “It’s cold,” I said, inspecting the sad dregs. “I’ll take it anyhow.” Sir Edward dropped heavily onto the divan next to Emerson. “Sorry, Professor, I wasn’t able to get your whiskey. The house —” “Then we will have to settle for claret,” said Sethos, going to the wine cabinet. “My supplies have become somewhat depleted. Amelia?” “Yes,” I said, answering both the spoken question and the unspoken order. “Esin, I suggest you — er — go to your room and rest.” “I don’t need to rest,” said the young person. “I am not tired.” “Then help Selim find us something to eat.” I gave Selim a wink and a nod. As a rule this was all Selim needed, but this time I had to give him a little poke, for he was not looking at me. His intent black eyes were fixed on Sethos. “Your pardon, Sitt Hakim,” he said, starting. I repeated the suggestion. He nodded obediently, and got Esin to go with him by requesting the details of her daring escape from her father’s house. “Such courage,” I heard him say, as they left the room. “Such cleverness!” Sethos turned from the cabinet, the bottle in one hand and the corkscrew in the other. “Report,” he said curtly. “The town’s quiet,” Sir Edward said. “Less damage than I had expected. The house is guarded by several soldiers and they’re scouring the countryside looking for you people. According to the worthy citizens of Khan Yunus, you simply vanished into thin air, like the djinn you are reputed to be. The military hasn’t accepted that, though.” He took the glass Sethos handed him and went on, “They haven’t made up their minds whether you were abducted by force or went off on your own, for purposes of your own. Either way, they want you.” Ramses took the bottle from Sethos, who had neglected the rest of us in his concern for his aide, and poured wine for Nefret and me. “What about Gaza?” Sethos asked. “The place is shut up tighter than a prison.” Sir Edward sipped his wine appreciatively. “I made contact with one of our lads — Hassan. He’d just got back from an attempt to enter the city by his usual route, but what he saw made him veer off. They’re stopping everyone.” “Shutting the barn door after the horse is stolen,” I said with a smile. “Ha,” said Emerson, motioning Ramses to fill his glass. “Any news of Sahin Pasha?” Sir Edward shook his head, and Sethos said, “It will take them a while to decide how to deal with him. The most sensible course of action would be to execute him and announce he’d been assassinated by the vile British.” “That was your plan, then,” I said. “To make him appear guilty of treason.” “I didn’t have a plan when I started out,” Sethos said snappishly. “My orders were to remove him — pleasant little euphemism, isn’t it? One learns to take advantage of unexpected events. We were damned lucky. All of us.” “It took more than luck,” Ramses said grudgingly. His uncle gave him a mocking bow. “Selim can’t keep the girl away for long,” I said. “And I certainly don’t want her to know her father may be under arrest and facing death. We must decide what we are going to do with her.” “Quite right, Amelia,” said my brother-in-law. “You’ll have to take her back to Cairo, and the sooner, the better. The sooner you are all back in Cairo, the better.” “What about you?” I asked. “And Sir Edward?” “Don’t concern yourself about us. As soon as it’s light I want you all to return to Khan Yunus. That will stop them searching the whole damned neighborhood and finding this place, which wouldn’t be convenient for me. Make your preparations to leave Khan Yunus and get the hell away. You’ll have to come up with some story to explain the girl. The military mustn’t know who she is, or take her from you.” “As if I would leave a girl of eighteen with a troop of soldiers,” I said with a sniff. “What do we do with her when we reach Cairo?” “Take her to an address I will give you.” He glanced at Ramses. “Memorize it; don’t write it down.” “That’s it, then,” said Emerson, hearing Selim and Esin returning. “You have nothing more to tell us?” Sethos made sure we had no chance to ask for more. After a scratch meal he went off with Sir Edward, instructing us to get our gear together and be ready for an early departure. We did not see him again until morning. It was still dark when we gathered in the courtyard, with only the light of our torches to guide our steps. The horses were waiting. “Good-bye,” said Sethos. “A safe journey.” He shook Emerson’s hand and mine. “When will we see you again?” I asked. “When you least expect me, Amelia dear. That’s my trademark.” He smiled at me. “You’ll hear from me soon, I promise. Good-bye, Nefret. Try and keep Ramses out of mischief.” “I always do.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. “Take care of yourself. Sir Edward, try and keep him out of mischief.” “Don’t I get a kiss?” that gentleman inquired. She laughed at him, and gave him her hand. “Good luck. And thank you.” We reached Khan Yunus by midmorning and went at once to the house, followed by a throng of idlers. The gate was closed, and there were two soldiers guarding it. They snapped to attention, rifles raised, when they saw us, and then one of them exclaimed, “It’s them!” “Grammar, young man,” I said. “It is indeed we. Let us pass, if you please.” Selim went at once to his beloved motorcar. “They have stolen two of the tires!” he cried in anguished tones. “That’s easily remedied,” said Emerson, helping me to dismount. “Come along, Selim, you can play with the motorcar later.” A quick inspection assured us that the house was deserted and that a good many items were missing, including the best part of “the favorite’s” elegant wardrobe. “Can’t be helped,” said Emerson. “Lucky we had everything we needed with us. Let us go to the mak’ad. I expect we will be receiving a visit soon.” “Yes, our arrival will have been reported,” I agreed. “Esin, I want you to stay here in the harem.” “Why?” she demanded. “You are an enemy alien,” Nefret said. “If the soldiers find out you are here, they will take you away.” I hadn’t intended to be quite so blunt about it, but the warning had the desired effect. Esin’s rounded cheeks paled. “We won’t let them take you,” Ramses said quickly. “Just stay out of sight and keep quiet.” “I would very much like a bath,” I said. “But that will have to wait until we round up a few of the servants. In the meantime, what about a nice hot cup of tea?”

The inefficiency of the military was disappointing. It took them an hour to react to the news that we had returned. The open arches of the mak’ad constituted an excellent observation post; we were sipping a second cup of tea when he burst into the courtyard, kicked an unfortunate chicken out of his path, and came to a stop, staring. Emerson leaned over the rail and called to him. “Up here, Cartright. Join us.” “We ought to have expected it would be he,” I remarked. “He appears to be in quite an unhappy frame of mind.” Cartright took the stairs two at a time. His face was flushed and his mustache looked as if he had been chewing on it. “You’re here,” he gasped. “All of you.” “Obviously,” I replied. “Nefret, is there more hot water? I believe Major Cartright could do with a cup of tea. Do sit down, Major.” The young man collapsed onto a chair and passed a handkerchief over his face. “Where have you been? We’ve been searching for days.” “Not that long, surely,” I said. “Drink your tea. We have decided to take advantage of your kind offer to facilitate our return to Cairo. We will need petrol, water, food, and two new tires. Is there anything else, Emerson?” Leaning against the wall, arms folded and lips twitching, Emerson shook his head. “Not that I know of. Continue, Peabody, you seem to have the situation well in hand.” “We would like to leave tomorrow morning,” I explained. “You seem to have frightened our servants away. Persuade — persuade, I said — them to return. We have clothing to be washed and meals to be prepared.” “Mrs. Emerson . . . please.” Cartright waved away the cup I had offered. “Just stop talking, will you? Professor, I want to know where the devil —” “Language, language,” said Emerson. “There are ladies present. As for answering your questions, sir, I am not subject to your orders.” “General Chetwode —” “Nor his. I will report to whom I see fit and when I see fit. In Cairo, to be precise. Are you going to get us the supplies we need or must I go over your head?” “I . . . yes. That is, I will get them. And go with you.” “There won’t be room in the motorcar,” said Emerson with finality. “Oh — I almost forgot. The horses. Fine animals. They are in the stable.” Cartright sat bolt upright. “Then it was you who . . . One of the troopers swore there was a woman in the party, but —” “Me,” said Nefret with a smile. “The poor boy wants his Mary back, I expect. Tell him she has been well cared for and that I thank him for the loan.” “That is all you have to say?” His frowning visage turned from Nefret to Emerson. “It is all any of us have to say,” Emerson assured him. “When may we expect those supplies?” Major Cartright’s countenance underwent a series of contortions. He had been sorely tried, but knew perfectly well that any attempt to detain Emerson against his will would result in an uproar that would reverberate through every level of British officialdom. “I’m not certain I can obtain everything you need today,” he muttered. “Oh, I think you can,” said Emerson, showing his teeth. “Yes, sir. Then . . . I will see you in Cairo?” He looked at Ramses, who had remained silent. “No doubt,” said Ramses. “You are the one he would like to question,” I said, after Cartright had taken his departure. “I expect he will go haring off to General Chetwode and demand we be held here.” “Chetwode has no authority to detain us,” said Emerson. He rubbed irritably at the cast, which was looking somewhat the worse for wear. “Nefret, can’t I have this cursed thing off?” “Not yet, Father. As soon as we get to Cairo I’ll have a look at it.” Selim returned from his inspection of the motorcar to report that everything seemed to be in order, and went off to commandeer some household assistance, since I did not suppose Major Cartright would consider that matter worthy of his attention. It had begun to rain, so we retreated into the room behind the open mak’ad, where we had left our baggage. “We may as well unpack our bundles,” I said. “What with all our comings and goings, I have lost track of precisely what we still have. I gave my bar of soap to Mustafa, but here is my medical kit and my parasol —” “You won’t need that, Mrs. Emerson. You will not be leaving the house just yet.” I had missed one of the secret rooms. Unlike the makhba under the floor of the harem, this was a small hidden chamber whose door resembled that of a wall cupboard. He looked much the same as he had when I had seen him before, a big man with a grizzled beard and shoulders almost as impressive as those of Emerson. He had a pistol in one hand and a knife in the other. “Sahin Pasha, I presume,” I said, after a slight catch of breath. “We ought to have anticipated that a clever man would comprehend the gravity of his predicament and escape before he could be apprehended. On the run, are you?” “One might call it that. Now, if you don’t mind —” “Coming here was also a clever move,” I mused. “There is a saying that the safest place for a criminal is in the police station.” “Is there? No, my young friend, don’t take another step. I want all of you close together.” Ramses stopped. “You daren’t use that gun,” he said. “The sound of a shot will bring the servants and a dozen soldiers.” “If I am forced to fire, there will be more than one shot and by the time your assistants arrive it will be too late for some of you. There is no need for that. All I want is my daughter.” “Let us discuss this calmly,” I said. “How do you propose to get her away from here, against her will, without killing all of us, which is, as you must see, impractical?” A rather jolly rumble of laughter emerged from his parted lips. “Mrs. Emerson, it is a pleasure to meet you at last. I know you are hoping that your fascinating conversation will distract me. It won’t. But since you ask, I have already dealt with Esin. She is lying bound and gagged on the divan in the ka’ah. I found this hiding place last night. As soon as I have persuaded you to enter it, I will take her and go.” “Go where?” I demanded. “Back into the lion’s den? You are being unrealistic if you believe you can convince your erstwhile friends that you are still to be trusted.” The man’s strong jaw hardened. “I will prove my good faith by returning, with my daughter.” It would require more than that. He knew it, and so did I. But if he could recapture the prisoner he had let escape . . . If he could herd us one by one into the secret room, leaving Ramses till last . . . “Go on,” Sahin said, gesturing with the pistol. “You first, Mrs. Emerson.” “No,” I exclaimed. “Emerson, do you see what —” “It’s all right, Mother,” Ramses said quietly. “I think he’s bluffing. I wonder how many bullets are left in that pistol? Enough to stop all of us?” “A good point.” Emerson nodded. “I call your bluff, sir. We are not sheep, to be herded into a pen. The girl stays with us, but we will give you . . . oh, let us say an hour . . . to get away.” They measured one another, two men of commanding presence and stature. The Turk said slowly, “You would do that?” “As the lesser of two evils. Your usefulness to your government has been destroyed. This way no one will be injured. You can trust us to look after the child, and when the war is over you may be reunited with her.” “The word of an Englishman?” Sahin Pasha murmured. “Don’t be foolish,” Ramses said urgently. “There are two — four, I mean — of us. Hand over the gun.” Sahin smiled wryly. “Four? Ah well, it seems I have no choice. You were correct. The gun isn’t loaded. I had to fight my way out of Gaza.” “Drop it, then,” Ramses said. He took a step forward and held out his hand. “Or give it to me.” His eyes were fixed on the pistol. It might be a double bluff; we could not be certain, with a man so crafty. Sahin held it out — and then the knife flashed and Ramses stumbled back and fell, blood spurting from his side. Nefret flung herself down beside him. “You never learn, do you?” Sahin shook his head regretfully. “You really ought to give up this line of work, my boy.” Emerson had not stirred. “Nefret?” he asked softly. Her quick surgeon’s hands had slowed the flow of blood. “It’s . . . not too bad,” she said. “But now, you see, there are only three of you,” Sahin said. “And I lied when I said the gun was not loaded. Do I take the ladies on next?” “Yes,” I said, and swung my parasol. It was one of my better efforts, if I do say so. The gun flew out of Sahin’s hand and fell with a clatter onto the tiled floor. “Ah,” Emerson breathed. “Well done, Peabody. Get the gun.” “Take my parasol, then.” I pulled out the little sword and forced the weapon into Emerson’s hand. Sahin Pasha let out a guffaw. Emerson swore, but he got the blade up just in time to parry a wicked cut at his good arm. “I lied again,” said the Turk, grinning. “The gun is empty.” “We will see about that,” I replied. I pointed the weapon out the window and squeezed the trigger. There was no explosion, only a click. “Curse it,” I remarked. “This is so entertaining I hate to end it,” said Sahin Pasha. “Professor, I admire you, I respect you, and I do not want to injure you. Anyhow, my reputation would never be the same if I overcame a man armed with a parasol who has only one serviceable arm. I accept your offer. Put down the . . .” A gurgle of amusement escaped him. “The umbrella.” “Oh, come, don’t insult my intelligence,” said Emerson in exasperation. “You have no intention of giving yourself up, and I have no intention of allowing you to take my son prisoner again. I cannot imagine how you could accomplish it, but I do not underestimate you. En garde.” Ramses pulled himself to a sitting position. “Be careful, Father. He doesn’t —” “Fight like a gentleman? Well, well. Neither do I.” He bent his knee and lunged. A cry of alarm escaped me. It was almost certainly the most ineffective move he could have made. The blade of the sword was only three inches longer than that of Sahin’s knife. The Turk didn’t even bother to parry it. One quick step backward took him out of range, and as Emerson straightened, staggering a little, the Turk’s knife drove at his side. It sank with a crunch into the plaster encasing Emerson’s raised forearm and stuck, just long enough. Emerson dropped the parasol and hit the other man in the stomach. Rather below the stomach, to be accurate. “Oh, Emerson,” I gasped. “Oh, my dear! That was magnificent!” “Most ungentlemanly,” said my husband, contemplating the writhing, wheezing form of his foe. “But I was never much good with a parasol.”