Tomb of the Golden Bird (14 page)

Ramses said, trying in vain to smooth his curly locks. "Excuse my appearance. Katherine! How good it is to see you." "You look very handsome, as always," Katherine said with a fond smile. "Nefret, come and sit with me. I want your advice." Emerson broke off his conversation with Cyrus to demand, "Where are the kiddies?" "In temporary detention," Ramses replied. "Somehow they got wind of the fact that Mother had invited a number of guests, and they became so rambunctious I told them they would have to settle down before they could join us." I looked round for Sethos, and saw him hovering in the doorway. "She hasn't come," I said softly. "Ah." He had taken the time to change and looked quite dapper in one of Ramses's tweed suits. The ends of his mustache had a definitecurl. After greeting the others, he went to the side of the veranda that opened onto the path, and stood there looking out—making certain, I felt sure, that Margaret wouldn't creep up on him unobserved. He was, therefore, the first to spot another of my guests. His exclamation brought me to his side. "Did you invite him?" "You can hardly suppose he would have ventured here without an invitation." Sir Malcolm was followed by his servant, who held a huge parasol over his head. Like Kevin's, his approach was somewhat tentative, and he kept looking nervously from side to side. As Fate would have it, at that precise moment the twins appeared, accompanied, as they always were, by Amira. Catching sight of Sir Malcolm, she ran toward him, baying like the hound of the Baskervilles. The twins broke into a run, shouting at the dog to stop; Sir Malcolm tried to get behind the servant and the parasol; the servant promptly turned tail and fled, still holding the parasol, which bobbed up and down as he ran. It was quite an amusing sight, but I resisted the temptation to see what would ensue. Opening the door, I shouted at the top of my lungs. "Amira! Stay!" The dog at once obeyed, dropping to the ground practically at the feet of Sir Malcolm, who was flailing ineffectually at her with his stick. "I do beg your pardon, Sir Malcolm," I called. "Please come in. She is perfectly harmless, you see." Emerson, doubled up with laughter, moved aside as Sir Malcolm ran pell-mell toward the door. "Most refreshing," he said. "You've put together a real witch's brew, Peabody. What are you up to now, eh?" "Wait and see," I murmured. Emerson grinned and held out his arms to the children. "There you are, my darlings. Come and say hello to our friends." Sir Malcolm was no fonder of children than he was of dogs. Eyeing Charla askance—she had once tried to bite him after he patted her on the head—he sank panting into a chair. I took him a cup of tea. "Did you plan that, Mrs. Emerson?" he said in a whisper. "I assure you, I did not. You know most of the others, I believe? Cyrus and Katherine Vandergelt, their son Bertie, their assistant Jumana. May I present Suzanne Malraux and Mr. Nadji Farid, who recently joined our staff. Oh, and Mr. Kevin O'Connell, of the Daily Yell." The courtesies gave Sir Malcolm time to compose himself. His dignity had been sadly damaged, however; Bertie was still grinning, and some of the others were trying not to laugh. The malevolent look he gave me assured me he would not soon forget the indignity. All in all, it was a merry, noisy meeting. I moved from group to group as a good hostess should, offering refreshments and overhearing bits of conversation. Margaret did not put in an appearance. Sir Malcolm succeeded in getting Emerson aside. The few words I managed to hear indicated that he was still attempting to persuade Emerson to join with him in a complaint to M. Lacau. This proved to be a serious error on his part. Emerson gave him a contemptuous look and turned his back. "That was a serious error on your part," I said to Sir Malcolm. "I could have told you Emerson would refuse." "Time is running out," Sir Malcolm said, clutching his stick as if he yearned to strike someone with it. "The Professor did not refuse—not point-blank. He implied that he would consider my proposal." "Did he really?" "I choose to interpret it thus, Mrs. Emerson, because the alternative—" He stopped with a snap of his teeth, and I said, "Dear me. Is that a threat, Sir Malcolm?" "Not at all." He glanced at the door, where Amira lay staring in. Her tongue hung out and most of her teeth were visible. "If you will be good enough to remove that creature, I will bid you good afternoon." I did, and he did. After looking about and realizing his servant had not returned, Sir Malcolm set off on foot, at a pace that betokened ill for the poor fellow. I hoped he would have the good sense to keep on running and not return. Naturally, the moment Sir Malcolm was out of earshot we all began talking about him. "He would not play chess," said David John critically. "I wouldn't trust him any farther than I could throw him," Cyrus declared. "What did he say to you, Emerson?" "Same old thing. Wanted me to join with him in exposing to Lacau what he called Carnarvon's illicit activities. I said I would think about it." Emerson tried to look crafty. "Well done, my dear," I exclaimed. "How far will he go, I wonder? He spoke of time running out, and of assuming you would cooperate with him, because the alternative—" After a breathless interval, Emerson said, "The alternative was what?" "He broke off at that point." "How delightfully ominous." Nefret laughed. "Bah," Emerson declared. "There is no alternative. If Carter and Carnarvon meant to confess they would have done so by now; but I will not have it on my conscience that I exposed them." Kevin's hands were twitching. He knew better than to reach for his notebook, however. "If you print anything about that, we will deny it," I said, thanking heaven that Kevin was unaware of the most damaging part of that incident. For Carter and Carnarvon to have entered the antechamber in secret was reprehensible but might be overlooked. For them to have broken into the sealed burial chamber and then concealed their action was a serious breach of their firman. "Yes, ma'am," Kevin said gloomily. "I've got the material for a scoop to end all scoops, and you won't let me run with it. And there's Minton, hanging round the Valley, poking her nose into every corner and interviewing every ragged guard." "Have you spoken with her?" I asked. "I greeted her as a gentleman should," said Kevin, his nostrils flaring. "Would you believe it, Mrs. E.? She tried to get information out of me! We fenced for a while, and when I asked her point-blank if she hadfound out anything of interest, she grinned in that offensive way of hers and told me I would find out when her next dispatch was published." Emerson began coughing violently. "Take a sip of tea, my dear," I said. Would Margaret have the audacity to write about her "kidnapping" and "imprisonment," as she would term them? Such a story would cause a sensation, given our reputation with the newspaper-reading public. It would also infuriate Kevin, who wouldn't at all have minded being "kidnapped" if he could have got an exclusive out of it. And, depending on how Margaret explained the reason for her detention, such a story might attract the attention of the very individuals from whom we had attempted to protect her. Would she really risk her husband's safety for the sake of a story? Catching the eye of Sethos, I saw that he was thinking the same thing—and that he had arrived at the same conclusion. Everyone wanted to go with me to greet our dear David and Sennia (and Gargery). There was no question of the twins going, naturally, although David John declared I was unfair and Charla raged like a miniature Medea. Nefret decided to remain with them, and after some discussion it was agreed that Ramses would accompany me instead of Emerson. This suited me very well. Emerson was not the most restful of traveling companions, and it was only right that Ramses should be among the first to greet his best friend. Emerson insisted on going to the station with us, and so did Daoud. Despite the lateness of the hour the platform was very busy. Many people preferred taking the night express, which started from Aswan and made only a few stops after Luxor. The enterprising merchants of Luxor were out in force, in a last-ditch effort to peddle their fake scarabs and ushebtis. A juggler kept a circle of brightly colored balls whirling, and a snake charmer squatted before the basket in which his creatures were confined. Daoud was not at all sure about railway trains and pressed various amulets into our hands to ensure our safety. Emerson (who wasnot at all sure about me) looked as if he were having second thoughts about accompanying me. "Don't let her out of your sight," he ordered Ramses, who had come back from seeing our luggage bestowed in our compartments. "Not for a second." Rather than point out the inconvenience (not to mention impropriety) of this, I nudged Ramses, kissed Emerson, and got into the carriage. As soon as the train was underway we went to the bar for a whiskey and soda. "You are looking very smart, Mother," said Ramses, raising his glass in salute. "Is that, by chance, intended to impress our friend Smith?" "I had thought of calling on him." I acknowledged the compliment with a smile and adjusted my hat—a broad-brimmed white straw to which I had added a few red silk roses. "We promised to keep him informed, and we haven't reported Sethos's arrival." "Do you think we ought?" It was his way of saying he didn't think we ought. "I share your doubts, Ramses, and I am glad to have this opportunity to discuss the matter with you." Frowning, Ramses opened his cigarette case and offered it to me. In order to establish an atmosphere of congeniality, I took one and allowed him to light it for me. "Have you thought about the theory we discussed the other day?" he asked. I had to search my memory. "Oh, you mean the theory that—er— your uncle has deliberately misled us?" "I would put it more strongly than that," Ramses said. "Don't put it more strongly just now. We could be overheard." The waiter approached to ask if we were dining soon; if so, he would save a table for us. "We may as well go in now," I said. "We will continue the discussion over dinner." "It isn't a discussion so much as an unprovable theory," Ramses said, after we had taken our places. "I agree that there are holes in my original proposal..." There were holes in all the others we came up with as well: that Sethos had turned traitor and was being pursued by the British Secret Service; that Smith had turned traitor and was trying to keep Sethos from betraying him; that instead of a state secret Sethos had made off with a priceless artifact from a looted site in Syria or Palestine. In the end, I was forced to agree with Ramses that we ought not confide in Mr. Smith until we knew more. My suggestion that I have a little chat with the gentleman was not received with enthusiasm. "You may give away more than you get," Ramses said. "What if he asks directly whether you have heard from Sethos? You never lie—" "Unless it is absolutely necessary." Ramses laughed. "Yes, I know. Well, we will leave it at that for now. You look tired, Mother. Do you want coffee?" "No, thank you. I am not at all tired, but I believe I will retire." We parted at the doors of our respective compartments. During dinner the porter had made up one of the berths. The bed looked very inviting, despite the fact that the sheets showed signs of wear. Though the room was stuffy I did not open the window; along with cool air came dust and windblown sand. I also cut my ablutions short, since to be honest I was somewhat tired. After assuming my nightdress I got into bed and lay looking up at the ceiling, which was painted in someone's notion of ancient Egyptian art. The jackal god Anubis glared down at me from amid a clump of violent purple lotuses. He was not a reassuring sight, but I fell asleep almost at once and did not stir until I woke to hear the conductor announcing our imminent arrival in Cairo. It was almost midday when we reached Alexandria, to learn that the ship was in port and tenders were transporting passengers ashore. We went at once to the customs shed, where amid the milling arrivals I beheld David. He caught sight of us—or rather, of Ramses, who was, like David himself, a head taller than those nearby—and began waving. A flood of affection filled me at the sight of his lean brown face and black curls, so like those of my son. "Where are Sennia and Gargery?" I asked, standing on tiptoe. Like a small up-to-date version of Venus rising from the sea, Senniawas lifted high above David's head. She too was waving and calling out, though I could not hear her through the noise. I did not see Gargery until after the trio had passed through customs. Leaning heavily upon his cane, he tottered up to me. "I brought them, madam." "So I see," I replied, turning to receive the affectionate embrace of a son from David, and a breath-expelling hug from Sennia. She seemed to have grown several inches in the past few months, and at thirteen was quite the little lady—white gloves, parasol and all. Half-English, half-Egyptian, she had the smooth brown skin and long-lashed dark eyes of her mother and, heaven be thanked, little resemblance to her father. "Where are the others?" she demanded. "The Professor and Aunt Nefret and the twins and Selim and Daoud and Fatima?" "You will see them tomorrow," I replied, straightening her hair bow. "We are taking the evening train to Luxor." Gargery groaned. "Oh, madam, I had hoped we might have a day of rest, after that dreadful voyage." "You were seasick, I suppose," I said. "Well, Gargery, I am sorry, but you brought it on yourself. No one asked you to come." I did feel sorry for the poor old fellow, but as I had learned, sympathy only made Gargery groan louder. Gargery didn't like trains either; by the time we reached Cairo he was so pale and shaky I took the group straight to Shepheard's and settled Gargery in a comfortable chair in the lobby. "We will take tea here instead of on the terrace," I said, torn between concern and exasperation. "The train doesn't leave for several hours, so have a little nap, Gargery." "I am not at all tired, madam," Gargery said haughtily. His eyes closed and his white head drooped onto his chest. He didn't stir, even when the waiter brought tea and a mouth-watering assortment of biscuits. Forgetting her dignity, Sennia took the sweetest. "Curse the old rascal, he doesn't look at all well," I said in a low voice. "He can have a compartment to himself. Sennia will share mine and you and Ramses another, David. You will probably sit up all night talking." "I will take care of Gargery," Sennia said. She picked up the cup of tea I poured for her, her little finger elegantly extended. "Oh, it is wonderful to be back! Can we go to the
Museum? Can we go to the suk?" "I don't want to miss the train," I said, wavering under the appeal of a pair of big black eyes. "It will probably be late," Ramses said. "You want to shop, I suppose, Sennia. Would you settle for a short stroll along the Muski?" Sennia, her mouth full of cake, nodded eagerly. "I could stand to do a little shopping myself," I admitted. Ramses looked at his watch. "I have a call to make. I shall be back in good time. David, will you go with the ladies?" David gave him an odd look, and agreed so readily that I wondered how much Ramses had told him. They hadn't had much chance to speak privately. "What about Gargery?" I asked. "He'll sleep for hours," David said. He put a gentle hand on the old man's shoulder and got a faint snore in response. "We won't be gone long. You had better write a note for him, Aunt Amelia." I did so, and asked the headwaiter to look after our friend. With Sennia dancing along at my side, talking incessantly, I had no opportunity to ask David anything. He stood by with that annoying patient look men have on such occasions while Sennia and I purchased Christmas presents. She was a generous little soul and would have emptied her small purse buying gifts for the twins if I hadn't prevented her. I cannot say the gifts were always in good taste. In one shop she made David turn his back while she negotiated with the owner for a hideous necktie printed with blue and purple scarabs. Not until her arms were loaded with parcels, which she would allow no one else to carry, did I manage to persuade her to return to the hotel. Ramses arrived, by cab, at the same time we did and we entered the lobby together, Sennia chattering nonstop. "We had better get ourselves to the station," I said. "The train may be on time for once. Wake Gargery." But the chair he had occupied was empty, and there was no sign of him. David went to look for him, in the obvious place. When he returned, his face was troubled. "The attendant said no one of his description had been there." Seeing us, the headwaiter hurried up. "Are you looking for your friend, Mrs. Emerson? He has gone on." "Good Gad," I exclaimed. "Gone where?" "He mumbled something about the railway station, madam." "How long ago did he leave the hotel?" I asked. "Shortly after you did, madam. I kept an eye on the old gentleman, as you requested, but—well, we are very busy this afternoon, and I didn't notice he was gone from his chair until he tapped me with his cane and said to tell you he had gone on. He was mumbling to himself, madam. Complaining, I believe." We stared at one another in consternation, but none of us voiced the alarm we felt because of Sennia. She chuckled. "He gets confused sometimes," she explained. "Perhaps that is what happened," Ramses said. "We had better look for him at the station." "We have no other choice," I said uneasily. "We must leave at once. Barkins, if the old idiot—the old gentleman—should come back, hang on to him and send someone to the station to inform us." Our luggage had been sent on, so we got ourselves and our purchases into a cab without delay. Dusk advanced as the cab wound its way along the busy streets. The gathering darkness increased my uneasiness. The note I had left on the table for Gargery was missing too. He must have taken it with him. How could he have misconstrued my instructions? My spirits sank further when we reached the main railway station. Supposing Gargery had found his way here, how were we to locate him amid the shoving, shouting crowds? We found the platform where the express to Luxor and Aswan was waiting. There was still half an hour before it was due to leave. Some people were boarding, others stood chatting with friends. Gargery could not have got on board, we had his ticket. He was not among the passengers still on the platform. "Find your compartment," Ramses ordered. "And stay there. We'll look for him." He waited until we had boarded before he and David went off in different directions. Porters were sorting out the luggage; I identified ours and had it brought to our compartments. I stood at the open window scanning the passersby, replying absently to Sennia's bright chatter. A quarter of an hour passed. Most of the passengers were boarding. Then I saw Ramses and David, converging on the train. Seeing me at the window, they hurried up. I did not need to ask whether they had found him. Obviously they had not. "I'm staying," Ramses said, before I could speak. "David, hop on and toss my bag out, will you?" "We can't go without Gargery," Sennia exclaimed. "Where is he?" "He's got lost, I expect," Ramses said with a forced smile. "The rest of you may as well go on; I'll track him down and bring him with me tomorrow." I could not contain myself. "Ramses, do you think—" "I think he's lost," Ramses said loudly. "Don't worry, Sennia, I'll—" She interrupted him with a shriek of delight. "No, he's not! There heis now! David, in the next compartment, dropped the suitcase he was holding out to Ramses and stared. Ramses turned and stared. I stared. There he was indeed, hatless, white hair standing on end, pushing through the crowd, which gave way to him with good-natured grins. Old age is respected in Egypt. Ramses kept his head. He usually does. Shoving his suitcase back at David, he reached Gargery in a matter of seconds, caught hold of him, and towed him toward the train. Gargery was talking and waving his cane, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. The pair made their way to the end of the carriage. I closed the window and went to the door of the compartment. My thoughts were in a whirl. Evidently my worst fears had been unfounded. The old rascal had got himself lost, and that was all. He had scared the wits out of me, though, and had made it only just in time. A jolt and a whistle from the engine betokened the train's departure. Coming toward us along the corridor were Gargery and Ramses. Sennia wriggled past me, squeezed by a large lady enveloped in afeather-trimmed cloak, and flung herself at Gargery. "That was too bad of you, Gargery. We were afraid you would be late." "It wasn't my fault, Miss Sennia. Wait till I tell you—" Another lurch of the carriage made him stagger. Ramses shoved him into the outstretched arms of David, who stood at the door of their compartment. "Get in there, Gargery. Sit down and keep quiet." We all piled into the compartment. The two long couches which could be made into beds had seating for six. Gargery dropped, wheezing, into his seat, but he looked a good deal livelier than he had before. His lips parted in a grin, displaying an elegant set of false teeth we had had made for him. "I got away from them," he declared. "Clean away! They made a big mistake, I tell you, thinking they could hold a chap like me prisoner." Sennia's eyes were as large as saucers. (Small saucers.) She clutched at his arm. "You were a prisoner? Oh, Gargery, are you hurt?" "Hell," said Ramses. He took off his hat, threw it across the compartment, and ran distracted fingers through his hair. The cat was out of the bag and the fat was in the fire, and short of gagging him there was no way of keeping Gargery from bragging about his heroic escape—or preventing Sennia from hearing him. He wasn't as keen about admitting how he had been hoodwinked, but by dint of pointed questions (and, once the train was well underway, the application of whiskey and soda), we got a coherent account out of him. He had been awakened (roused from deep thought, as he put it) by a messenger who handed him a note which read, "Meet us at the railway station." At the suggestion of this helpful individual, he had informed the head waiter of his intention and followed the messenger out of the hotel, where a closed carriage was waiting. Considering that we had sent it for him (as was only his due), he felt no alarm until he found himself seated between two very sturdy strangers wearing masks. They fell upon him, and in a twinkling had him bound and gagged. The prick of a knife at his throat warned him to stop struggling—for, as he assured us, he had put up a valiant fight. "Where did they take you?" I asked, when Gargery paused to refresh himself. "Nowhere, madam." Forgetting his manners for a moment, Gargery wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "We drove round and round for hours, madam. Every second I thought one of the bas— one of them would cut my throat, but I was not afraid, madam, I was only biding my time. Finally the carriage stopped . . ." Gargery took another sip of whiskey and appeared to be thinking deeply. "And then?" I prompted. "And then . . ." Inspiration came to him. "I had worked my hands free, you see, madam. One of the chaps got out of the carriage, leaving the door open, and I—er—gave the second fellow a hard whack with my cane, untied my feet, and leaped out. It wouldn't have done to stay and fight, madam, there were three of them, including the driver, and—and—and then I saw the railway station just ahead and ran as fast as I could till Mr. Ramses found me." This remarkable account left us speechless, except for Sennia, who threw her arms round Gargery and informed him that he was a hero. "Yes, quite," said Ramses. He had his voice under control, but not his eyebrows; they formed a black V over his narrowed orbs. "Gargery, why don't you take Miss Sennia to the dining car? It must be almost time for first service. We will join you shortly." "I am a bit peckish," Gargery admitted. "As you know, sir, combat has that effect." With the assistance of his cane, he hauled himself to his feet and treated us to another glimpse of his expensive teeth. "It is good to be back in Egypt, madam!" David watched the pair reel off along the swaying corridor, and then closed the door. His lips were twitching. "David, are you laughing?" I demanded. "I can't help it. The old rascal is enjoying this. He looks ten years younger." "He certainly has a gift for fantastic fiction," I said sarcastically. "Can you visualize him immobilizing a thug with one blow of his cane? He hasn't a muscle left in his body." "But he hasn't lost the spirit of adventure," Ramses said. He was smiling too, that rare, carefree smile that lit up his entire face. "Hedidn't fight his way free, though. They let him go. After driving him around for—what?—two hours, they brought him to the station in time for the train, and walked away. They must have taken the note we left for him before he woke up." David sat down and took out his pipe. "They being the anonymous individuals who have been bothering you?" "Yes, they have been a bit of a bother," I said. "Ramses gave me a quick outline of what you've been going through," David said. "I'm not surprised to hear that Sethos is up to his old tricks, but I can't believe he would invent such an outrageous story, or arrange even nonlethal attacks on any of you." "You have more confidence in his goodwill than I do," Ramses said. "You're letting your doubts of the man influence your judgment," David argued. "You haven't a scrap of evidence against him. He's devoted to all of you." "So what's your explanation?" Ramses asked. David shrugged. "I haven't one." "Neither have we," I said. "What happened to Gargery only makes it more confusing. What was the point of carrying him off and then returning him without so much as a bruise on him?" "It's obvious, isn't it?" Ramses was no longer smiling. "Another warning. This time it was Gargery. Next time it may be someone else." From Manuscript H Ramses and David did sit up half the night talking. After Sennia and Gargery had been tucked into bed, Ramses's mother joined them. She was wearing a voluminous dressing gown and her neatly braided hair was covered by a ruffled cap. Ramses always found these demonstrations of feminine vanity amusing; but her eyes were hard and alert, and she did not waste time. "I don't want to leave Sennia alone too long. Where did you go this afternoon?" "I was just about to tell David," Ramses said. "And not me?" She sat down on the foot of his bed. "I expected you'd turn up," Ramses said, smiling at her. "Anyhow, there's not much to tell. We decided, didn't we, that we wouldn't contact Smith directly. I made the rounds—the Turf Club, the Gezira, and a few of his other haunts—saw a few familiar faces, but not his. It's rather odd. None of his acquaintances has seen him for some time." "Perhaps he's ill. Did you go round to his office?" "No. That would have been too direct. I dropped in on Russell instead." "Not a bad notion," she said, looking chagrined that she hadn't thought of it herself. "He is a man of integrity—unlike some of your acquaintances in the intelligence services—and as commandant of the police he has informants all over Egypt. I trust you were discreet in your questions?" "I didn't mention Sethos, or cryptic messages, if that's what you mean. But he did give me a rather grim picture of the current political situation. Assassinations of British officials have increased, and even Russell doesn't know who is behind them. Most of the attacks occur when the target is on his way to his office, and though his car is preceded and followed by other vehicles containing armed guards, the killers sometimes manage to draw up alongside and fire several rounds before speeding away. Russell's not concerned with the broader picture except as it affects his work, but the entire Middle East is boiling with discontent." "That isn't much help." "It was the best I could do without giving away information." "Yes, my dear, I know; I didn't mean to criticize." Murmuring discontentedly and shaking her handsome head, she bade them good night and went out. Ramses stood at the door until her door closed and he heard the bolt being drawn. "So what about the famous tomb?" David asked. "Was that what fetched you? I know you dote on us, but we can't really compete with Lia and the children." David laughed. "How cynical! The Illustrated London News has offered me a substantial sum for drawings of the objects." "I hate to be discouraging, but your chances are none too good. Father had a falling-out with Carnarvon, and we've been banned from the tomb." "I heard about that. Did the Professor really curse him?" "It's no laughing matter," Ramses said, shaking his head. "The prohibition includes the whole family, and many of our friends. It's a pity, really. You'd lose your head over some of those artifacts. However, I don't know that Carnarvon would admit you even if he weren't angry with father. There's a rumor that he intends to give exclusive rights to the Times." "Tell me about the tomb." David knocked out his pipe and stretched out on the bed, hands under his head. It was like old times, when they had talked the night away, discussing tombs, treasures, and mummies, or planning some wild adventure. In the early days, before David and he had become involved in darker plots, Nefret had often been a party to