City of Jasmine (25 page)

“King Faisal,” Hamid corrected coldly.

“My apologies, Sheikh,” Halliday said, inclining his head. “My government has not officially recognised the kingship of Prince Faisal, you understand.”

“And if the British government does not recognise it, it cannot be so?” Hamid’s voice was pleasant, but his eyes glittered dangerously, and I was reminded of precisely how ferocious the Bedouin could be.

“Recognition by His Majesty’s government would go a very long way towards legitimising the rule of King Faisal,” Halliday pointed out practically. “Surely you see that, Sheikh.”

“What I see is once again it becomes the business of the European to direct the destiny of the Arab,” he replied.

“As much as it pains me to say it, Sheikh,” Halliday said, his voice calmly reasonable, “it would indeed help Prince...that is, King Faisal’s cause to have British support. If this relic is so very significant, perhaps joint ownership would reflect well upon both nations. If nothing else, it would cut out the French, something I think both of our peoples can agree is not a terrible thing?”

Hamid looked mollified for the moment, and I tipped my head thoughtfully towards Halliday. “Considering the upheaval in the government, I’m a little surprised they sent you out to find me. After all, one aviatrix is hardly as noteworthy a story as the toppling of the French government.”

“It hasn’t toppled yet,” he reminded me. “This trouble with Pr—King Faisal may be a tempest in a teacup.”

“You think an Arab king declaring his country independent is so trifling a thing?” Hamid asked, his hand settling with lazy purpose on his dagger.

But Halliday wasn’t a diplomat for nothing. He smiled at Hamid. “I would love nothing better than to see Faisal succeed in tossing the French out on their ear,” he said with disarming bluntness. “But the French are better armed and firmly entrenched. It will take a miracle,
inshallah.
”

Hamid inclined his head and his hand dropped from his dagger. Halliday turned back to me.

“But your disappearance was bigger news than you think. It was picked up by wire services and has spread around the world. Everyone is waiting to see if you’re all right or if you’ve been carried off by—”

“By an archaeological sex maniac,” I finished.

He rose and dusted off his trousers. “If you will excuse me, Sheikh, I would like to make the necessary repairs to Mrs. Starke’s plane.”

I jumped up. “What’s the matter with the
Jolly Roger?
”

He gave me a reassuring smile. “Nothing very serious. Just a bit of tightening up, and a leak I need to patch.” I hesitated and the smile deepened. “You needn’t worry, you know. I’m perfectly qualified, and I promise not to touch a wire on her frame without permission.”

I felt a warm flush in my cheeks. “I’m being beastly and you’re only trying to help. Yes, of course, do what you must. And thank you.”

Sheikh Hamid rose, as well, his good humour apparently restored. “You may need the services of some of the village men and the blacksmith. I will help you with this.”

Halliday brightened. “I say, that’s awfully nice of you. Perhaps you can tell me a bit more about these hostile fellows we’re up against.”

They left together and I made to follow, but Aunt Dove’s voice was sharp.

“Sit down.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. I folded my legs under me and took a seat on the carpet, arranging my features into a wide-eyed expression of patient obedience.

“Meekness doesn’t suit you,” she said, her lips thin. “Now, suppose you tell me, Evangeline Merryweather Starke,
precisely
what you are doing gallivanting around the desert with your not-quite-dead, not-quite-ex husband?”

I took a deep breath and launched into a detailed explanation. I left nothing out, at least nothing of importance, and she had only asked a few probing questions. Her expression was thoughtful, and when I finished, she nodded. “I suspected something like this.”

I blinked. “How on earth could you have possibly suspected something like this? Have you added clairvoyance to your talents?”

“Don’t be pert,” she said, arching an imperious brow. “When I saw that photograph of him, I knew exactly why we were going to Damascus. I just wish you had confided in me sooner.”

I gaped at her. “When did you see the photograph?”

She gave a long, slow-lidded blink. “The day it arrived, child. I went through the post before you did and there was one blank envelope. Since it didn’t have either of our names on it, I opened it and found nothing but that photograph.”

“There was no envelope when I saw it,” I pointed out.

She flapped a hand. “Of course not. I threw it out. It was
filthy.
Besides, it had no distinguishing marks of any kind, not even a postmark.”

“Then how did it even get to us in the first place?”

“The ambassador’s people in Rome had kindly delivered any post that was sent to their office. This was among those things. I made inquiries at the ambassador’s office, but the witless fellow I talked to merely said that the outer envelope had been so soiled and badly torn he thought it best to throw it away and simply pass along the interior envelope. He said the postmark had come from Damascus, but there were no other markings on it. So that made for a tidy little dead end. No more information to be had beyond what was on the photograph itself.”

“But why didn’t you tell me you knew about the photograph?” I felt a little aggrieved that she had kept it from me all this time. I thought of the long days of travel, the sight-seeing in Damascus, and through it all there hadn’t been the slightest hint from her that she’d known.

“Why didn’t you tell me that was why we were going to Damascus?” Her gaze was sharp, but her tone had softened.

“I suppose,” I said slowly, “I didn’t want you to worry. Wally thought the whole thing was the wildest sort of goose chase at first, but then we decided I had no choice but to go and see the thing through.”

“And do you always do what Wally tells you?” There was a touch of asperity, and Arthur fluttered irritably in his cage.

“I’m not marrying him, am I?” I regretted the sharpness the moment the words were out of my mouth. “I am sorry, Auntie. It’s all gotten out of hand. And Gabriel—”

“Isn’t living up to your expectations?” she guessed.

“My expectations where Gabriel is concerned are quite low.”

“But not your hopes.”

I looked up quickly, but her face had gone sweetly sad. “I know, child. I know what these last five years have cost you. I know you blamed yourself for pushing him away, and I know you fretted yourself to distraction about whether you made a terrible mistake in Shanghai.”

“And it turns out, I didn’t. I thought he was something he wasn’t, and that illusion is what I married. The real man is so capricious he makes my head spin. He’s exactly the man I was afraid he was. He’s feckless and unreliable and he’s got himself mixed up in all sorts of nasty business out here. My mistake wasn’t misjudging him. It was marrying him in the first place.”

She gave me a thoughtful look. “When this is all finished and you’re quietly and thoroughly divorced, you might give some thought to choosing a nice beau from all those suitors you have flocking around. Someone besides Wally.”

I shuddered. “That’s the last thing I want to think about. I won’t marry again,” I swore. “One time down that particular road is plenty for any girl.”

“And too much for some,” she reminded me. “I’ve done quite nicely for myself without bothering to hitch my wagon to anyone else’s star. But you aren’t me, Evie. You like having someone around. That’s why you took up with Wally after you lost Gabriel. He was a sort of husband for you, albeit the kind who wouldn’t pester you in the bedroom.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Have you been reading those psychoanalysis books again?”

She shrugged. “Well, it’s perfectly obvious, dear. In a woman with a slight Electra complex whose father issues were never entirely resolved—”

I held up a hand. “Let’s leave Electra out of this. Now, I want to see what damage you’ve inflicted on the
Jolly Roger
and whether Mr. Halliday really can fix her up.”

* * *

The
Jolly Roger’
s repairs proved minor—a leaking fuel line and some loose guy wires—and while Halliday was finishing up, Gabriel reappeared. He’d been gone the better part of the afternoon with no word he was even leaving. I had no notion of where he’d gone when he stamped off in a sulk, but apparently he’d decided to check in with Herr Doktor. He returned in a nasty mood.

“How is Herr Doktor? Is he feverish?”

“Missing,” he said, his mouth set in a grim line.

“But that can’t be! He was far too ill—” I broke off at the frankly sceptical look in Gabriel’s eye as he waited for me to figure it out.

“You think he left to go after the Cross. I won’t believe it. How is that even possible?”

“He took the drugs in my medical kit and one of the camels. They didn’t stop him because they assumed Hamid had given his permission.”

“Not that nice old man,” I said stoutly. “We were helping him!”

“I wish I knew what he had up his sleeve,” Gabriel said slowly. “If he’s loose, he could be planning on throwing in with the countess. In fact, they might have been in league the whole time. She could have sent him to keep an eye on Daoud and follow us to the rest of the Cross.”

I thought it over then shook my head. “I don’t believe it.” I told him briefly about Herr Doktor’s love for Gethsemane, and Gabriel’s eyes narrowed.

“It might have been useful to have this information sooner,” he said with a touch of asperity.

I shrugged. “It didn’t seem relevant at the time. Besides, you have plenty of secrets of your own,” I retorted. “But now you understand why he wouldn’t throw in with the countess. He loves Gethsemane.”

“He
told
you he loves Gethsemane,” he corrected. “You haven’t seen them together, have you? He could have made up that story just to play on your sympathies. In fact, he could have been in league with the countess the whole time. With her brother dead, she’ll be on her own out in the desert, and that means she’s desperate. I wouldn’t put it past her to find a way to use Herr Doktor to help her get out of the country.”

“How on earth would he be of use to her?”

He shook his head slowly. “Devil if I know. But he is Prussian nobility. She might suppose he has wealthy relatives somewhere who could pay a ransom or pull some strings to get her out. Or, if she’s really up against it, she knows he wanted the bloody Cross, too. She could seize the chance to sell it outright to him now and be done with the damned thing. Believe me, she’s a far more clever woman than people give her credit for.”

“But how do you know what she might do? You can’t read her mind, and it isn’t as if you were all that close...” I trailed off. “Oh,
Gabriel.
”

He had the grace to look uncomfortable.

“You said you hadn’t been with another woman for five years,” I said accusingly.

“That may have been a technicality,” he acknowledged.

“A technicality? But Countess Thurzó is beautiful! And Rowan is so...so...”

“Thanks for that. It wasn’t
that
extensive of a disguise.”

I shuddered. “But you had those gruesome false teeth.”

He grinned. “That was the most amusing part. You see, I figured quite early on that Countess Thurzó wasn’t above doing whatever it took to get information for herself and that ratty brother of hers. I thought I’d see exactly how far she was prepared to go. It was quite instructive.”

“I’ll just bet.”

The grin deepened to a real smile, his blue eyes shining with amusement. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous.”

“Jealous! Heavens, Gabriel, you do have a high opinion of yourself. I assure you, if we compared our activities of the last five years, you would have
much
more cause to be jealous than I would.”

“Is that right?” He moved a fraction closer to me, but before he could say a word, Halliday approached.

“I’ve got very good news, Evie. I’m all finished with the
Jolly Roger.
Went back to tighten the prop and she’s right as rain now. I say, am I interrupting?”

“Nothing I’m interested in continuing,” I said sweetly.

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Halliday, but his tone was cool. “Didn’t think you diplomat chaps liked to get your hands dirty,” he said with a nod to Halliday’s grease-streaked palms.

Halliday flushed a little and fished a handkerchief out of his pocket to scrub at his hands.

“Don’t mind Gabriel,” I told him. “He’s been in a very bad mood for five years.”

Sheikh Hamid joined us then, his expression grave. “Trouble is on the horizon, my brother,” he said in a low voice to Gabriel. He rattled off a quick explanation in Arabic and strode off, leaving Gabriel to explain.

“It’s the deserters, the fellows who were French Foreign Legion. They’ve apparently set up camp in an old Turkish outpost, and this morning they attacked a village of Mezrab Bedouin. The entire place was put to the sword. There were no survivors.”

I turned away, sickened, but there was more horror to come.

“There is fear this village will be next.”

“Gabriel, these people are shepherds, for heaven’s sake!”

He glanced around, pitching his voice low. “The deserters found a European woman wandering the desert, half-dead from dehydration and claiming she’d been robbed by her Bedouin guides.”

“Countess Thurzó!” I breathed.

“Based on the description of the lady, there’s no question. After we escaped his clutches, Daoud must have decided to take what he knew he could get his hands on. The countess was no doubt expecting him to return with results of his ‘interrogation,’” he said, his mouth tightening on the word. “Instead, he must have robbed her then and turned her out into the desert to make her own way out. Or she’s still got the Cross and has concocted the whole story just to get deserters to help her get out of the desert. Personally, I like the notion that she might actually have been robbed and left for dead.”