The Hippopotamus Pool (39 page)

At the risk of repeating myself I must say (as I will never tire of saying) that only Emerson could have accomplished what he had planned that day. Egyptian workmen are the merriest of fellows, but they are inclined to be nonchalant about doing things in a hurry. Our men, trained by and devoted to Emerson, had developed an esprit de corps and professional pride that would have driven them to extraordinary effort even without the passionate exhortations of their chief. They worked with grim efficiency to install the iron door Howard provided; it had been intended for one of the royal tombs in the Valley, and we were fortunate indeed to have it available. However, the job was not completed when Emerson came running down the stairs to tell me I must escort the others back to the dahabeeyah.

"Not without you, Emerson," I said. "You said you would not stay here tonight."

"So I did, my dear. But the sun will set shortly and I want you all safely home before dark. I will follow as soon as I have fastened that padlock with my own hands."

"You won't come alone? Promise me, Emerson." I caught hold of his shirt.

His firm lips curved in a smile and he took me in his arms. "You are particularly persuasive, Peabody, when you cling to me and plead like the timid little woman you are not. But then I suppose if you did it as often as I would like you to, it wouldn't have the same effect. I promise, my love. Run along now."

Sir Edward had already returned to Luxor with his precious load of photographic plates and Cyrus had reluctantly torn himself away, promising to return early the following morning. He had asked us to dine that evening, but I declined on the grounds that we were too tired to enjoy a social encounter. It was true; there was little conversation during the ride, and we went immediately to our rooms.

I waited there for Emerson. Darkness had fallen and it seemed to me that I had been at the window, watching, for hours before he came.

"So you missed me, did you?" he inquired, sometime later.

"I believe you have had sufficient evidence of that."

"Not sufficient, no. But it will have to do for the time being. Is dinner ready? I am famished."

"Oh, dear," I said, somewhat self-consciously. "I am afraid it is on the table and getting cold, Emerson. I told Mahmud to serve when you returned."

"You ought to have known better, Peabody."

"You are right, I ought. Hurry and dress, my dear."

As it turned out, Evelyn had sent the food back to be warmed, so that was all right. I waited until after Emerson had satisfied the first pangs of hunger before giving him the telegram from M. Maspero.

"On his way, is he?" was Emerson's response. "Curse it!"

"He is very polite," said Walter, who had retrieved the telegram from the floor where Emerson had thrown it. "Felicitations, homages, chers colleagues, and all the rest!"

"Anything else in the post?" Emerson asked, dismissing M. Maspero and his courtesies.

"Evelyn's daily report from Mrs. Watson," I replied. "All well and happy, she says. Nothing else of interest."

I did not really expect anything from Kevin until later that night at the earliest. He had gone chortling off with a book full of notes and I assumed he would be busy writing up his dispatch. I only hoped he would remember to check round the hotels as I had asked him to do; when journalism took possession of him he was inclined to forget all else.

We took all our meals on the deck now, since Emerson had commandeered the saloon for a workroom and storage chamber. The sweet breeze and rising moon did not tempt him to linger; draining his cup of coffee he said, "Nefret, I have several more pages of notes that need to be copied."

"I will transcribe your notes, Emerson," Evelyn said. "Let the child go to bed, she is worn out."

She must have been practicing, for she got the name out without a hitch. Walter gave her a startled look. Emerson said, "Oh? Oh, well, er ... Yes, quite. Off to bed with you, Nefret, my dear, you worked very diligently today. You too, Ramses."

Ramses had' been feeding scraps to the cat Bastet. I expected him to protest. Instead he rose obediently. "Yes, Father. Good night, all. Come, David. Come, the cat Bastet."

They left in dignified procession, the cat bringing up the rear. "He really should not speak to David as he does to the cat," Evelyn said.

"It is the other way round, I fancy," I said. "He should not speak to the cat as he does to a human being. Where has Anubis got to? I haven't seen him this evening."

"I told him to stay with the men," Emerson said. He chuckled. "Or rather, I requested that he do so. He is as effective a guard as you and your parasol, Peabody. The locals are terrified of him."

"So is Abdullah. I am surprised he didn't object."

"Abdullah has had a change of heart." Emerson got out his pipe. "He still believes Anubis is an afreet in feline form, but he has very sensibly concluded that it is better to have a demon as a friend than an enemy. Nefret, my dear, why are you still here? Did you want to ask me something?"

"No, sir, only I am not at all tired and I don't want to go to bed."

A statement like that would have won Ramses a firm rebuke, but Emerson only smiled fondly. There is no question but that a pretty face and golden curls lend a person an unfair advantage.

"It will be another difficult day tomorrow, child. Give me a kiss and run along."

Pouting, but to no avail, Nefret bestowed kisses all round and went with dragging feet toward the stairs.

I don't know what impulse made me go after her. When I caught her up at the door of her room, her surprised look made me feel a little foolish. "I thought perhaps you had left your nightgown in my room this morning," was the only excuse I could think of at the moment.

"No, Aunt Amelia, I dressed in my own room. Don't you remember?"

"Yes, of course."

She set her candle on the table and I gave the room a quick but thorough inspection. There was nothing out of place and nowhere to hide—only the curtain hung across the corner where her washstand was placed. I drew it casually aside.

"Is something wrong?" She stood by the bed, watching me.

"No. You don't mind being alone, do you? If you would like me to sleep here ..."

"That is a very generous offer, dear Aunt Amelia." She spoke sweetly and gravely. "No such sacrifice is necessary; I am perfectly comfortable in my mind. Good night. Sleep well."

I withdrew in some little confusion. Had I heard a hidden meaning in several of those phrases?

I feared I had.

After an hour or so I convinced Emerson to stop working. Naturally I did not mention the odd sense of foreboding that had prompted me to search Nefret's room, but I did ask whether one of the men would be on guard that night.

"Do you suppose I would neglect that precaution?" Emerson asked. "Ibrahim will make a circuit of the cabins every ten minutes and be on the alert for the slightest sound. I believe it to be needless; the tomb is as secure as I can make it, and Riccetti is not so rash as to play his old games with me. Better safe than sorry, however, as you would say, Peabody."

"I would not say anything so trite, my dear. Thank you for putting my mind at ease."

"Have I done so? Then let us turn our attention to other matters."

I slept soundly that night. To have Emerson safe with me again, to know that the tomb had been secured and our loyal man was on guard outside— these considerations and others must have been responsible for the failure of the sixth sense that normally warns me of danger. The room was dim with dawn light when I was rudely aroused by the door bursting open. Even Emerson, who is usually slow to recover himself in the morning, sat bolt upright.

Nefret stood in the doorway.

"Ramses is gone!" she cried. "They are both gone—and so is the cat Bastet!"

    CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Humor Is an Excellent Method of Keeping a

    Tight Rein on Unproductive Displays of

                        Emotion

After Emerson had rained vehement reproaches on poor Ibrahim (and then apologized, since at that point in time it was premature to assume he had been at fault), I insisted that we calm down and apply intelligence to the matter. Emerson's curses had awakened Walter and Evelyn, and we gathered in Ramses's room.

"He must have gone of his own free will," I said. "There is no sign of a struggle."

"How can you tell?" Emerson demanded.

"It is a little difficult," I admitted. "His room generally does look as if a violent struggle had taken place there. However, nothing has been overturned or broken. Kidnappers could not carry both boys off without something being overturned."

Emerson's initial frenzy had been succeeded by the icy rage that rendered him so formidable. "They could carry one boy off, though," he said coolly. "With the aid of a little chloroform—and that of the other boy."

"No, Emerson!" Evelyn cried. "David would not betray his friends!"

"That has yet to be determined," Emerson said in the same quiet voice.

"If Ramses had gone voluntarily, he should be back by now. He would have left a note if he expected to be delayed beyond the time when his absence would be discovered. You are certain you did not overlook such a message?"

I did nothing to stop him when he began looking, in the same places I had already searched. How well I understood the need for action of any kind, however futile! He even opened the box labeled with an emphatic "PRIVATE! PLEASE DO NOT INTRUDE!" I had never investigated the contents of that box, not only because I feel that even children are entitled to their little secrets, but because I assumed it contained disgusting treasures such as dried bones and bits of mummy.

When Emerson straightened, he was holding something. He stood quite still, turning it in his hands.

The little alabaster head was finished, or near enough. Emerson looked at Nefret and then back at the sculpture. "David's?" he asked.

"Yes. He said he was making it for me." I touched the rounded cheekbones of the face with a reverent finger. "It is lovely, isn't it?"

Emerson's eyes went again to Nefret. "Uncanny would be nearer the mark. It is Nefret, and it is also Tetisheri. What did he see or sense, that made him produce a thing like this?"

"Why does it disturb you?" I asked in surprise. "It is a beautiful piece of work and he is a talented artist."

"It does not disturb me," Emerson said shortly—but he was quick to return the head to the box and close it. "The boy has talent, I grant you. That does not prove his innocence."

"I told Mahmud to make coffee," I said. "I suggest we dress and—"

Nefret, who had been pacing restlessly around the room, whirled to face me. "Coffee? Why are we wasting time? Let us go after him!"

"Where?" I asked. "Calm yourself, Nefret. There is nothing to be gained and a great deal to be lost by premature action."

"Quite right," Emerson agreed. "You can't go rushing off to Gurneh in your nightgown, Nefret; your aunt Amelia would never allow such a thing."

I never linger unnecessarily over my toilette, but I do not suppose I have ever dressed as quickly as I did that day. Emerson delayed only long enough to add a shirt and boots to the trousers he had assumed earlier. He and Nefret were on the deck when I got there.

Never (hardly ever) have I admired my dear Emerson so much as I did when I beheld the touching tableau. Nefret knelt at his feet, her face raised imploringly, her hands warmly clasped in his. Fear for his son raged within him; but he had put it aside in order to comfort his daughter. There was— to his infinite credit I proclaim it—there was even a note of amusement in his calm voice as he spoke, and a reassuring smile on his face.

"My dear, Ramses does this sort of thing all the time. No doubt he has got himself into another scrape. We will get him out, that's all."

"You won't try to prevent me from helping?"

"I depend on it."

So great was her agitation she had not been aware of my presence until Emerson glanced in my direction. Rising, she smiled self-consciously. "I apologize, Aunt Amelia, if I spoke rudely to you. I was not worried about Ramses, you know. I was only angry because he had been so inconsiderate."

"Yes, Nefret, I know. Try to eat something."

When the younger Emersons joined us I noticed Evelyn was carrying the black parasol and that Walter was rather red in the face. They had been arguing again, and it was not difficult to deduce what about. Walter's first remark made no reference to this, however.

"The evidence does seem to indicate that Ramses went off on one of his mysterious expeditions. I don't see how he could have been carried off, even with David's connivance, without the kidnappers' being seen or heard by Ibrahim."

"Not to mention by the cat Bastet," I said, pouring coffee with a steady hand. "She would not have stood by in silence while someone knocked Ramses on the head."

"She must have gone with him," Nefret said. "She usually comes to my room after Ramses has fallen asleep. She was not on my bed this morning."

"Was it in quest of her that you went to Ramses's room?" I asked. I had not thought of asking her how she had discovered Ramses's absence.

"No. Something woke me. A sound, a voice, a dream ..." She hesitated, looking down at her clasped hands. "It must have been a dream. I thought I heard .. . someone ... call my name."

"Who?" I asked.

Still she avoided my eyes. "Just someone. You know how vivid dreams can be. I went immediately to Ramses's room, and .. . Oh, but what does it matter?"

"Never mind that," Emerson said. "Walter is right, Ramses must have gone off on his own. He took the cat, or it followed him. As for David ... I am sorry, Evelyn, but we must consider the possibility that it was David who lured Ramses away. If David suddenly 'remembered' something he had seen while he was with Abd el Hamed, he could easily persuade Ramses to investigate. You know Ramses's cursed reckless—er, adventurous— spirit."

"There is no proof of that," Evelyn said steadily.

"Well, where the devil else could they have gone but to Gurneh?" Emerson demanded.

My slight involuntary start would have passed unobserved by anyoneelse; but Emerson knows me well. His iron control was beginning to crack. Turning to—or rather, on—me, he growled, "Well, Peabody? If you have been concealing something from me ..."

"I swear to you, Emerson, I just this instant thought of it. I confess it should have occurred to me earlier, but I have been somewhat distracted.... Now, my dear, don't shout. I think Ramses may have gone off looking for Riccetti."

That dreaded name produced the silence I required in order to complete my explanation. Horrified conviction whitened every face.

"My God," Walter whispered. "Not Riccetti!"

"I may be wrong," I said. "I hope I am wrong. But Ramses did express reservations about Kevin's ability to pursue the matter competently, and he has always been prone to take matters into his own hands."

"It's all right, Peabody." Emerson's affectionate heart saw the emotion I strove to conceal. His strong brown hand closed over mine. "Don't blame yourself. Wherever he went we must assume that he is being detained against his will, otherwise he would have returned by now or sent a message. I am off to Gurneh. That still seems to me the most likely possibility."

"I am going with you." Walter rose.

"If you like. The rest of you remain here. Abdullah has considerable influence with the Gurnawis; his assistance will be invaluable."

"What are you going to tell him?" I asked.

"What else but the truth? His grandson is missing too."

"You won't distress the poor man even more by mentioning your suspicions of the boy?"

"Unnecessary," Emerson said curtly. "Do you suppose he won't think of that himself?"

"I am going to Luxor," I said.

"No!" He grasped me by the shoulders. "Peabody, for the love of God, do as I ask for once. If there is no trace of Ramses in Gurneh, we—you and I—will go to Luxor later on and try to follow his trail. You must not venture there alone. If I lose you too .. ."

The prospect of waiting, helpless and inactive, for endless hours, literally sickened me, but Emerson was in the right. We could not scatter in all directions. I nodded dumbly.

"Thank you, Peabody," said Emerson.

"Be careful, Emerson."

"Certainly. I may be the one pursuing a wild goose," he added. "There is still a chance he will turn up, and if he is being held captive, we can expect to hear from the kidnappers before too long."

"You are right," I cried, hope rising. "I will send someone for you at once if either eventuality occurs."

"The kidnappers may wish to prolong our anxiety for hours or days," Walter said soberly.

"No, no," Emerson said. "They will want to get Ramses off their hands as quickly as possible. Wouldn't you?"

He ran down the stairs, followed by Walter.

"How can he joke about such a thing?" Evelyn demanded.

"Humor is an excellent method of keeping a tight rein on unproductive displays of emotion," I explained. "Evelyn, put that parasol down. Your hand will cramp if you hold it so tightly."

Evelyn relaxed her white-knuckled grip, but retained her hold on the implement. It seemed to comfort her. "As usual," she said bitterly, "we women are left here to wait while the men act. I did not think you would give in so meekly, Amelia."

"Do you suppose I would give in unless I knew it was the most sensible course of action? We would only be in Emerson's way. Walter won't be of much use either, but at least his Arabic is fairly fluent. Now for pity's sake sit down—both of you—and let us go over the evidence again. Ramses said nothing to you, Nefret, that might give us a clue as to his intentions?"

Nefret flung herself into a chair. "No, confound him. He is always trying to keep me out of things. I don't believe for a moment, though, that David is still loyal to that vile old man. The Professor won't find them in Gurneh. They must have gone to Luxor."

"How?" Evelyn asked.

"I have been wondering about that myself," I said. "Let us see if we can construct a possible scenario. You know Ramses's talents for disguise; it would take very little alteration for him to pass for an Egyptian lad. They could slip out and over the side unobserved while Ibrahim was out of the way. Both are at home in the water; they would stay in it, swimming or wading, until they were some distance from the dahabeeyah, and then steal a boat—or possibly beg a ride from someone."

"Then we should be able to trace them," Evelyn said eagerly.

"I don't doubt that Emerson has already begun those inquiries, my dear."

"Then what can we do?"

"Wait," I said. "Nefret, will you tell Mahmud to make more coffee? We will be having visitors soon, I expect."

Indeed it was not long before the visitors arrived. Emerson had not had to explain his plans to me; our minds work as one (except in extraordinary circumstances). He had gone to the tomb to get Abdullah, and I felt sure that owing to the delay he would find Sir Edward already there, and probably Cyrus as well. The gentlemen would insist on helping to search for Ramses, and Emerson, rather than have them getting in
his
way, would send them to me.

I was mistaken on only one count. There were four gentlemen, not two. Cyrus's assistant and an agitated Kevin O'Connell completed the party.

The others were concerned, of course, but guilt appeared to be one of the components of Kevin's explosive speech. "If my negligence is to blame for this, Mrs. E., I will never forgive myself! I meant to go round to the hotels last night, but it was late when I finished my story, and this morning I just plain forgot, and ... I'll be off to Luxor straightaway."

"I don't blame you, Kevin, so stop babbling," I replied. "Ramses thinks he can do everything better than anyone else, and not even I can stop him when he is determined to act. But all this is surmise. We don't know that he has gone to Luxor."

"It will do no harm to ask," Kevin insisted. "I must do something, Mrs. E."

Sir Edward had not spoken except to greet us. Now he said quietly, "I agree with Mr. O'Connell. With his permission and yours, Mrs. Emerson, I will accompany him. My Arabic is perhaps more fluent than his."

"It would have to be, since mine is limited to half a dozen words," Kevin declared. The prospect of action (and my kindly reassurance) had cheered him. "I'll take you up on that offer, Sir Edward, and I don't mind admitting I'll feel safer with a friend to guard me back."

Nefret accompanied them to the gangplank. I did not forbid her since I knew there was not the ghost of a chance she could cajole them into taking her with them.

"No sense in me going along, I guess," Cyrus said. "I figger Willy and I can be more useful on this side of the river. Come on, Willy, we'll shake up a few of the local citizens."

"No, wait. Where is Miss Marmaduke?"

"Plugging away at Emerson's book, I expect. Said that's what she was going to do."

"I want you to send her here."

"Now, Mrs. Amelia, you can't suspect that poor feeble creature. She hasn't got the gumption to say boo to a goose."

"Cyrus, will you please do as I ask?" My voice was a trifle loud. I am not entirely impervious to nervous strain; the sun was high in the sky now, and still there had been no word. Nefret, returning with flushed cheeks and frowning brows, came to me and put her arm round my shoulders.

"Why, sure," Cyrus said soothingly. "I'll do anything you want."

"What I want is to interrogate that woman. It is time to take off the velvet gloves. I am in no mood to be trifled with, Cyrus."

"I can see that. All right, Mrs. Amelia, my dear. I'll have her here as soon as is humanly possible."

"What are you going to do to her, Aunt Amelia?" Nefret asked.

"You would like to assist, I suppose?" I had asserted my will; my voice was calm. "It won't be necessary to resort to physical violence, child, even if my moral code allowed such a thing. If she knows anything, I will get it out of her."