He Shall Thunder in the Sky (26 page)

     It took him almost an hour to reach Maadi. He approached the house from the back. It was unlighted, as were all the others in that huddle of lower-class dwellings — the remains of the old village, now surrounded and in part supplanted by elegant new villas. There were few streetlights even in the new section, and this area was pitch-black. He wouldn’t have seen the motionless form, only slightly darker than the wall against which it stood, if he had not been looking for it.

     David grasped his outstretched hand and then motioned toward the open window. “How did it go?”

     “No trouble. I hope you didn’t wait up for me last night.”

     They spoke in the low voices that were less carrying than whispers. Once they were inside the room, David said, “I was watching for you, but I didn’t really suppose you’d be able to get away from Aunt Amelia. Was Farouk there tonight?”

     “Mmmm. Innocent as a cherub and sticking to his story. The next delivery is Tuesday, the old mosque near Burckhardt’s tomb. David, it has occurred to me, somewhat belatedly, that you had better find new quarters. If Father knows about this place, it may be known to others.”

     “A man came here yesterday. A stranger.”

     “Damnation! What did he look like?”

     “I wasn’t here. Mahira couldn’t give me much of a description; the poor old girl is as blind as a mole and getting more senile by the day.”

     “That settles it. We’re leaving now, tonight. You ought to have vacated the premises as soon as you heard.”

     “You wouldn’t have known where I was.”

     “And you wanted to make certain there was no one lying in wait for me when I came? David, please do me the favor of trying not to get yourself killed on my account. I’ve enough on my conscience as it is.”

     “I’m doing my best.” David put a hand on Ramses’s shoulder. “Where shall I go?”

     “I’ll leave that to you. Some safe, flea-ridden hovel in Old Cairo or Boulaq, I suppose. God, I hate doing this to you.”

     “Not as much as I hate doing it.” David had gathered his scanty possessions and was tying them into a bundle. “You know what I miss most? A proper bath. I dream of lying in that tub of Aunt Amelia’s, with hot water up to my chin.”

     “Not the food? Mother wanted me to bring you a parcel of leftover turkey and plum pudding.”

     “Fatima’s plum pudding?” David sighed wistfully. “Couldn’t you have secreted a small slice under your shirt?”

     “Yes, right. I’d have had rather a time explaining that, if it had tumbled onto the floor while I was kicking Farouk’s feet out from under him.”

     David stopped halfway out the window and turned to stare at him. “I thought you said nothing happened.”

     “Nothing of importance. Go on, I’m getting edgy.”

     David took him across the river in the small boat they had acquired for that purpose. On the way Ramses explained what had happened with Farouk.

     “Reasonable behavior, I suppose,” David admitted, pulling at the oars. “They must have been rather worried.”

     “Yes. Farouk is the only one of the lot who has any fighting instincts. Poor old Asad was petrified. I hope I can get him out of this and talk some sense into him. He’s a braver man than Farouk. He’s afraid all the time, and yet he sticks.”

     And you’re a braver man than I am, Ramses thought, watching his friend bend and straighten with the oars. If I had a wife who adored me and a child on the way, I wouldn’t have risked myself in a stunt like this one.

     For a few seconds the soft splash of water was the only thing that broke the silence. Then Ramses said thoughtfully, “Farouk made one little slip tonight. He claimed the man who fired first used a rifle. But the first shot wasn’t from a rifle, it was from a pistol, like the ones that followed, and if Farouk was aiming at someone other than me, he was a damned poor shot. It’s not absolute proof, but I think we had better gather Farouk into the loving arms of the law. I’ll try to arrange a meeting with Russell. I know we aren’t supposed to be seen together, but we’ll have to risk it.”

     “Why?” David demanded. “Can’t you tell me what you’ve got in mind and let me pass it on?”

     “It’s just as risky for you to meet with him as it is for me,” Ramses said. “I’ll tell you, though, in case I can’t reach Russell, or in case . . . This is a perfect opportunity to get Farouk out of the way without involving me. If the police raided Aslimi’s shop, I wouldn’t have much trouble convincing my associates that Aslimi had finally cracked and confessed.”

     “Aslimi had better be put in protective custody, then.”

     “That’s part of the plan, yes.” Ramses laughed softly. “He’ll probably be relieved as hell. When I see the Turk Tuesday, we will arrange an alternative drop.”

     The current carried them downstream, so that he was not far from Giza when they landed. They sat in silence for a time. It was a beautiful night, with a small crescent moon hanging in the net of stars, and good-byes were difficult when there was always a chance they would not meet again. “Just in case” was a phrase both of them had learned to hate.

     “Is there anything else you should tell me?” David asked.

     “I don’t think so.” David’s very silence was a demand. After a moment Ramses said, “All right, then. It’s possible that Farouk was planted on us by the other side. That’s what I would do if I weren’t entirely confident of the reliability of my temporary allies. If this is the case and if he can be persuaded to talk, he could lead us to the man in charge of operations here in Cairo. You know what that would mean, don’t you? We could put an end to this business within a few days.”

     David’s breath caught. “It would be too much to hope for.”

     The pain and longing in his friend’s voice stabbed Ramses with renewed guilt. He said roughly, “Don’t hope. I’ve no proof, only what Mother would call a strong premonition. In any case, Farouk is dangerous, and the sooner we remove him, the safer for us. I’d better go before I fall asleep. Can you let me know where to find you? Our emergency method — use hieroglyphs, sign Carter’s name, and hire a messenger to deliver it.”

     David steadied the boat as he climbed out. “I’ll tell you on Tuesday.”

     Ramses slipped on the muddy bank, caught himself, and spun round to face his friend.

     “Don’t waste your breath,” David said. “Do you suppose I’d let you go alone after what happened last time? I’ll find a place to hide and be in concealment before sundown. No one will know I’m there. And I might just get a clue as to where your friend the Turk has come from.”

     “I can’t stop you, can I?”

     “Not in your present condition.” David sounded amused. “I’ll contact you somewhere along the homeward path. Look for a dancing girl in gauzy pantaloons.”

:

A
fter Nefret and I had developed the photographs I sent her to bed and retired to my own room. Needless to say, I was still lying sleepless in the dark, my door ajar, when I finally heard the sound I had been waiting for — not footsteps, for Ramses walked lightly as a cat, but the soft click of the latch when he opened the door of his room.

     I was wearing my dressing gown but not my slippers. I do not believe I made any noise at all. However, when I approached Ramses’s door he was waiting for me. Putting one hand over my mouth, he drew me into the room and shut the door.

     “Stand still while I light a lamp,” he whispered.

     “How did you know I would —”

     “Sssh.”

     He tossed the bundled-up robe and turban he had worn that night onto the bed. Seshat sniffed curiously at it. The smell was certainly pungent.

     “I thought you might wait up for me,” Ramses said softly. “Though I hoped you would not. Go back to bed, Mother. It’s all right.”

     “David?”

     “He was annoyed with me because I didn’t bring the plum cake. You had better get some sleep. Father will have us up at dawn.”

     “I’ve been thinking about that house in Maadi. If your father knew its location —”

     “David left the place tonight.”

     “Was that handsome young man — Farouk? — at the meeting?”

     “Yes.” He began unbuttoning his shirt. It was another hint, which I ignored.

     “In my opinion, you ought to have the shop raided and Farouk taken into custody at once.”

     Ramses stared at me. His eyes were very wide and very dark. “There are times when you terrify me, Mother,” he said, under his breath. “What put that idea into your head?”

     “Logical ratiocination,” I explained, pleased to have got his attention. “The enemy has no reason to trust Wardani. If they are sensible people, as the Germans are known to be, they would place a spy in the organization. Farouk’s behavior has been highly suspicious. At the least, arresting him will remove a potential source of danger to you, and at best he might be persuaded to betray his employer, who is almost certainly —”

     “Yes, Mother.” Ramses sat down rather heavily on the side of the bed. “Believe it or not, I had come to the same conclusion.”

     “Good. Then all we need do is present the plan to Mr. Russell and insist he carry it out.”

     “Insist?” He rubbed his unshaven chin, and the corners of his mouth turned up. “I suppose you have also worked out a method of communicating with Russell?”

     “Yes, indeed. I will arrange for us to see him tomorrow at Giza. Just leave it to me.”

     Ramses got slowly to his feet. Having undone the shirt buttons, he was not prepared to go further. He came to me and took me by the shoulders. “Very well, I will. Thank you. Please be careful.”

     “Certainly. Have you ever known me to take unnecessary chances?”

     His lips parted in one of his rare, unguarded smiles. I thought for a moment he would kiss my cheek, but he did not. He gave my shoulders a little squeeze and turned me toward the door. “Good night, Mother.”

     With my mind now at ease, at least for the time being, I was able to sleep. It seemed to me my eyes had hardly closed before they opened again to see a familiar face in close proximity to mine.

     “Ah,” said Emerson in a satisfied voice. “You are awake.”

     He kissed me. I made wordless noises indicative of appreciation and approval, but Emerson soon left off kissing me and went to the washbasin.

     “Up you get, my love. I have a feeling we will be deluged by curiosity seekers and I need you to fend them off with your parasol.”

     I said, “Ramses is home, safe and sound.”

     “I know. I looked in on him before I came here.”

     “You didn’t wake him, did you?”

     “He was already awake.” Emerson finished splashing water all over the floor and the washstand and himself, and reached for a towel. “Hurry and dress. I want that statue out and in a safe place before dark.”

     I hastened to comply, for in fact I was not at all averse to playing the role of guard. It would give me an opportunity to inspect at close hand every visitor who approached. If ever there was an event to attract the interest of the Master Criminal, this was it — a new masterpiece of Egyptian art, not yet under lock and key. Surely, if he was in Cairo, he would be unable to resist the temptation to have a look at it. And as soon as I set eyes on him I would know him, whatever disguise he might assume.

     I therefore took pains to collect all my weapons. When I strode into the dining room, parasol in hand, four pairs of eyes were focused on me.

     “I could hear you jingling all the way down the hall,” remarked Emerson, rising to hold a chair for me.

     Ramses, who had also risen, looked me over. “The mere sight of you bristling with weapons should deter any thief,” he said. “I presume there are more of them in your pockets?”

     “Only a pair of handcuffs, a stocking, which I will fill with sand, and my pistol,” I replied. “That reminds me, Emerson; the release on my parasol has been sticking.”

     “Oh, Sitt.” Fatima wrung her hands. “What is going to happen? Is there danger?”

     “Nothing is going to happen,” Nefret said firmly.

     “Possibly not, but it is always best to be prepared.” I smacked my egg with a spoon and lifted the top off. “Do you have your knife?”

     Smiling, she pushed her coat back. The weapon was belted to her waist.

     “Ramses?”

     He had resumed his chair. “No. I feel certain Father and I can count on you two to protect us. Fatima, is there more bread?”

     Fatima trotted off, shaking her head and murmuring to herself.

     Emerson was not at all pleased to learn that I had invited Mr. Quibell to come by that morning. I had sent a messenger the night before, since I knew Emerson would not, but it was our obligation to inform the Antiquities Department of any major finds. With the new director still in France, Quibell was the highest-ranking Egyptologist presently in Cairo, and of course he was also an old friend.

     I pointed this out to Emerson, between bites and swallows.

     “Who else did you invite?” he growled.

     “Only General Maxwell.”

     Nefret choked on her coffee and Emerson appeared to be on the brink of an explosion. “He won’t come,” I said quickly. “He has far too many other things on his mind. It was only a courteous gesture.”

     “Good Gad.” Emerson jumped up.

     “And Mr. Woolley —”

     “Stop! I don’t want to hear any more. The whole damned city of Cairo will be converging on my tomb.”

     I had been certain that he would interrupt me before I finished the list. Catching Ramses’s eye, I smiled and winked.

     “Shall we go, then?” I suggested.

     The sun was rising over the hills of the Eastern Desert when we mounted our horses. As usual, Emerson suggested we take the motorcar. As usual, I overruled him. Those early-morning rides were such a pleasant way to begin the day, with the fresh breeze caressing one’s face and the sunlight spreading gently across the fields. My intelligent steed, one of Risha’s offspring, knew the way as well as I, so I let the reins lie loose and fixed my eyes on the view — which I certainly could not have done had I been sitting beside Emerson in the car.