Seeing a Large Cat (26 page)

" 'J'ai fait mieux depuis,' " said Ramses before he could stop himself.

"What did you say? " Nefret asked.

"A meaningless quotation. Thank you, my girl. Now get home before you are missed."

"Oh, no." She shook her head. "I am going with you. Obviously you cannot be trusted to take care of yourself."

"I will be with him tonight, Nefret," David said. "You can trust me, I hope. This would not have happened if the Professor had not forbade me to leave the house last night."

"It would not have happened if Bellingham hadn't interfered," Ramses snapped. "I had Scudder on the ground, sans knife, when the gallant Colonel pulled me off him and-"

"Aha," said Nefret "So it was the Colonel who wounded you."

"He claimed he could not tell which of us was which."

"In galabeeyahs and headcloths you did look alike," Nefret pointed out. "And it was dark."

"To a man like Bellingham all natives look alike," Ramses said. "Even in broad daylight. In this case I must give him the benefit of the doubt, because he did his damnedest to kill me- or Scudder, as he believed me to be. He is in excellent condition for a man his age, and he knows how to use a knife-underhand and up through the- "

"Don't," Nefret said, grimacing.

Ramses shrugged. "I wasn't expecting it, at least not from him. I managed to slip aside, but by the time I had recovered my balance Scudder had vanished. Next time I will make certain Bellingham is not following me."

"Surely there won't be a next time," Nefret said. "Even that empty-headed little ninny will know, if she receives another such message, that it did not come from you."

"I made that quite clear to her this evening," Ramses said, his face hardening. "No; Scudder will have to think of something else next time."

"Not tonight; not so soon afterwards. The Colonel will watch her closely tonight." Nefret put her hand on his arm. "You need to rest. Don't go. Please."

Ramses looked down at the graceful little hand that curled confidingly around his forearm. Her skin, tanned to a golden brown, was several shades lighter than his. "Leave off, Nefret, womanly tenderness is not your style. You are more convincing when you threaten. Short of physical restraint, I can think of no way of preventing you from following me, so you win. I will stay here."

"Give me your word? "

"You have it."

"Mind you keep to it," Nefret said coolly. "If you ever broke your sworn word, I would never trust you again."

"Don't worry, Nefret," David said. "I won't let him go off alone again. I should have been with him last night. A brother does not leave a brother's back unguarded."

"I need you here to be my eyes and ears," Ramses said in rapid Arabic. "How else will I know what has happened in my absence? "

"Nefret will tell you," said that young woman in the same language. "If you admit her to your councils. In other words," she went on in English, "I will keep you abreast of what the Professor and Aunt Amelia are up to, if you keep your part of the bargain."

"What bargain? " Ramses demanded. "Curse it, Nefret-"

"To tell me everything." Nefret sat cross-legged on the bed, reached into her pocket, and pulled out the tin of cigarettes. "And don't bother spouting Arabic in the hope of confusing me, I have been talking it all summer with the Professor. Now do you want to know what the man from the American consulate told us this afternoon? "

"You are working that girl too hard, Emerson," I said after Nefret had gone off to bed, hiding her yawns prettily behind her hand.

Chapter Nine

High-minded individuals are more dangerous than criminals. They can always find hypocritical excuses for committing acts of violence.

I dreamed of the cat Bastet last night," I said.

Ramses looked up from his plate of eggs and bacon but did not respond. It was Nefret who asked interestedly, "What was she doing?"

"Hunting mice-or so I supposed." Musingly I continued, "I was home at Amarna House, and I was searching for something, something I wanted very badly, though I could not tell you what it was. You know how vague dreams can be. I went from room to room, looking under sofa cushions and behind pieces of furniture, with a growing sense of urgency; and wherever I went, there was Bastet engaged in some urgent search of her own. She paid no attention to me, nor I to her, yet I sensed we were bent upon the same quest, looking for the same undefined but vitally important thing."

"Did you find it?" David asked.

"No; but Bastet found her mouse. It was not a real mouse, for it glittered and sparkled, and it was attached to a long shining chain. Bastet was bringing it to me when I woke."

Emerson was watching me with a singularly sour expression. He does not believe in the portentous nature of dreams, but on at least one occasion he had been forced to acknowledge the terrible accuracy of one of mine. This was not one of that sort; the explanation of it was ludicrously simple for a student of psychology like myself. It was truth I sought, in sleep as in waking-the truth of Mrs. Bellingham's tragic death, still hidden from me by metaphorical sofa cushions. I did not mention this because Emerson does not believe in psychology either.

"Perhaps it is a sign of good fortune," I said cheerfully. "Was it not you, Ramses, who said that to dream of a large cat meant good luck?"

"Not precisely," said my son in his most repressive voice.

"He was quoting from the dream papyrus," David explained. "It is a curious text; some of the interpretations are sensible, and others make no sense at all."

"Really," I said. "I would like to have a look at it. Do we possess a copy?"

It may have been my guilty conscience that made me see suspicion in Ramses's steady dark gaze-though I cannot imagine why I should have felt guilty. I had only gone to his room to collect clothing for the wash, and I had put everything back exactly where I found it.

"By a strange coincidence," he said, "I do. You may have it whenever you like, Mother, but it is not one of your fairy tales, you know."

"I know that. I haven't had time to begin translating a new text this year. At first I was busy helping Evelyn with the Tetisheri volumes, and then there was my article for the PSBA. . . ." I stopped myself. Excessive and unnecessary explanations are a sure sign of an uneasy conscience, as our great national bard Shakespeare knew.

"It is on the desk in my room," Ramses said. "And at your disposal. Excuse me for mentioning this, Mother, but you and Father appear a trifle weary this morning. It is important for you to get your rest, you know."

He was developing quite a pretty talent for sarcasm. I did not allow myself to be provoked.

"We were discussing the case," I explained calmly. "After the disclosures made to us yesterday afternoon by the American vice-consul-"

"Peabody," Emerson said warningly.

Nefret laughed. "Professor, darling, if you are trying to protect me, don't bother. I heard everything the gentleman said yesterday."

"And you have passed the information on to the boys, I suppose," I said.

"Of course. We confide fully in one another. Don't we, Ramses?"

Ramses's chair creaked as he shifted his weight. "Sir, I understand your fatherly concern for my-er-dear sister, but believe me, it is impossible to keep her out of this business. We have discussed it too. Should we not combine our ideas and information, in the hope of bringing the matter to a swift conclusion?"

"Well said, Ramses." Nefret smiled at him. "What did you and the Professor decide last night, Aunt Amelia?"

Thus appealed to, I cleared my throat and began.

"We now know where Scudder has been all these years- living in Luxor, disguised as an Egyptian."

"There you go again, Peabody," Emerson said disagreeably. "We do not know that. It is a reasonable assumption, but not a fact."

"Then let us assume it," Nefret said. "It is at least a logical starting point. What do we know about the man that might help us identify him?"

With a sheepish glance at me, Emerson admitted he had telegraphed Cairo for a description of Dutton Scudder. It had been obtained from Colonel Bellingham five years previous and was still on file, since the case had never been officially closed.

"It is not very useful, is it?" I said, frowning over the paper he grudgingly produced. " 'Medium height and build, brown hair, fair complexion.' All those features can easily be altered. What about eye color?"

"The Colonel did not know," Emerson said.

"No scars, birthmarks, or other distinctive characteristics?"

"The Colonel did not know."

"The Colonel would probably not have noticed if Scudder had had ears like a donkey's," Ramses said. "The man was only a servant, after all. I suppose his is the only description the police obtained."

"Yes. The police did have some information about Scudder's background. His story of having lived in Egypt was true; his father was a clerk at the American consulate in Cairo between 1887 and 1893. One employee remembered him, but could add nothing to Bellingham's description."

"That makes our assumption that he is disguised as an Egyptian even more likely," I argued. "Officials attempt to keep their children carefully isolated from the 'natives,' but a curious young lad, as Scudder was then, might well have picked up something of the language and customs."

"Including the ancient art of mummification?" Ramses inquired.

"You did." Ramses acknowledged the riposte with a fault smile, and I went on, "We have gone as far as we can with that approach; the rest is mere speculation. There is little hope of anyone in Luxor remembering the advent of a stranger within the past five years. We will have to deduce his present identity."

"And how do you propose to go about that?" Emerson inquired mildly.

"He must be a dragoman or a guide or a fellah."

"Oh, well done, Peabody! That cuts the number of suspects down to six or seven thousand."

"Have you anything sensible to contribute, Emerson, or are you just going to sit there smoking and being sarcastic?"

"Neither," said Emerson. "I am going to work. I presume you are off to Luxor, Peabody."

"It is absolutely necessary for one of us to reexamine the body," I said. "Stop scowling, Emerson, you know we agreed last night that it should be done. The services are tomorrow morning, and after that the body will be inaccessible."

"Hmph," said Emerson. "All right, Peabody. Perhaps you can bully Willoughby into letting you have another look, but I would not count on it. He has no business doing any such thing. Is anyone else coming with me to the Valley?"

Ramses started and glanced at Nefret, who was sitting next to him. "Er-Father-I meant to ask earlier... May I borrow Nefret and David for a few days? I want to get photographs of certain reliefs at Luxor Temple so I can begin working on those texts. Given the rate at which the monuments are deteriorating, and the importance of-"

"I thought you were planning to concentrate on Deir el Bahri," Emerson broke in.

"Yes, I was. I have been. But M. Naville will be starting work there shortly, and you and he do not get on, and I have finished with the photographs we took last year, and the Luxor Temple-"

"Yes, yes," Emerson said. "There is no reason why David and Nefret cannot be spared, for a day or two. I would be the last to question your candor, Ramses, but do you really intend to photograph at Luxor Temple or is that an excuse to run off to the clinic with your mother?"

"I do intend to photograph," Ramses said firmly. "But, now that you mention it, Father, perhaps someone ought to go with her."

We were still arguing about it when one of the servants came in with a note that had just been delivered. Since I was losing the argument-it was all the rest of them against me- I was not averse to a change of subject. The note was not addressed to me, however. Assuming an expression of courteous inquiry, I passed it on to Nefret.

Like myself, Nefret immediately identified the sender. Wrinkling her nose, she remarked, "She must buy attar of roses by the quart. What the devil do you suppose she has to say to me?"

"Open it," I suggested. "And don't swear."

"I beg your pardon, Aunt Amelia," Nefret murmured. "Well, what do you think of this? It is an invitation to take luncheon with her and her father."

"You mean to decline it, of course," Ramses said at once.

Nefret raised a delicate eyebrow. "Why should I?"

Emerson tossed his serviette on the table and rose. "Because I say so. No, don't argue with me, young lady. I depend on you, Peabody, to make the children behave themselves-and on them to make you behave yourself. Good Gad, there ought to be safety in numbers, but with this family one cannot depend on anything. Mind what I say, all of you!"

Nefret went off to collect her photographic equipment and the rest of us dispersed on similar errands. Conversation was of necessity spasmodic until we reached the dahabeeyah; it is difficult to talk while riding at a quick trot. As soon as we were on board the felucca the argument resumed. One of the arguments, I should say.

"I cannot understand why the Professor made such a fuss about my lunching with the Bellinghams," Nefret grumbled. "It is a heaven-sent opportunity to ask them some important questions. If you give me permission, Aunt Amelia, he cannot object, can he?"

"Well," I began.

"Out of the question," said Ramses, glowering. "Mother will not give you permission."

I said, "Ramses, kindly allow me-"

"Why not?" Nefret glowered back. She did not glower as well as he did, since her eyebrows were not designed for it.

"Because he is-"

"Ramses!" I shouted.

Silence ensued, but the glowering did not abate.

"I will make the decision," I said. "And I have not yet decided. I will have done so by the time we reach the clinic. You can send a response from there, Nefret."

I gave myself over to reflection. I was not entirely certain of the reason behind Ramses's objections, but I had several of my own. Was I reading too much into the Colonel's admiring looks and gallant speeches? It was unlikely that Dolly would seek Nefret's company on her own account. The little note had been dispatched at what would be, for that spoiled young woman, an impossibly early hour.

However, Nefret's point was well taken. An opportunity for interrogating the Bellinghams should not be neglected.

I had, as I had promised, reached my decision by the time the carriage drew up at the door of the clinic, and I announced it in tones that allowed no debate.

"You may write to Miss Bellingham accepting her invitation, Nefret. We will go with you to the hotel. The Colonel will almost certainly ask us to join him. If Miss Dolly has something she wishes to discuss with you in private, she will unquestionably be able to find a way of doing so."

"Unquestionably," Ramses muttered.

Notepaper and pen and ink having been obtained, Nefret wrote her acceptance, and we saw it dispatched by one of the servants. We were then joined by Dr. Willoughby.

I had greater difficulty than I had anticipated persuading him to allow me to inspect the body. In fact, he flatly refused, on the grounds that Colonel Bellingham had forbidden an autopsy and that the lady now rested in her closed coffin in his little chapel. I pointed out that I was not proposing to perform an autopsy, and that a closed coffin can be opened. Willoughby countered....

But it would serve no purpose to describe the absurd arguments he presented or my logically overwhelming responses. In the end he gave in, of course.

"I must inform the Colonel you were here," he said.

"Certainly. We are lunching with him; I will tell him myself that we came by to pay our respects."

Willoughby gave me a look of mingled consternation and admiration. "Mrs. Emerson, there are times when you leave me speechless. I can deny you nothing."

"Few people can," I replied.

The chapel was a small building opening off an inner courtyard. Willoughby had tactfully avoided the religious symbols of a particular denomination; the room was furnished with a few chairs and a nicely draped table on which reposed a large leather-bound Bible. Heavy velvet hangings and dim lights added to the atmosphere of quiet reverence, but they rendered the room hot and stuffy. The scent of flowers hung heavy on the air. The coffin, covered with a linen pall, reposed on a low platform behind the table. It was a plain wooden box, with only the necessary metal fittings to ornament it, but the carpentry was quite neatly done and the brass had been polished till it shone like gold.

The solemn atmosphere of the place affected all of us, and Nefret most of all, but she resolutely refused to follow my suggestion that she take a chair and leave the business to me and the lads.

"It is for a good purpose, is it not?" she whispered. "For her sake?"

I murmured a reassurance. It would not be an easy task, however. The face was covered and a decent winding sheet enveloped the body. When I drew this aside I was shocked to discover that she still wore the flimsy silk undergarments. They seemed hideously inappropriate, but after all, it was not my place to determine what a devoted husband might consider proper. Nerving myself to proceed, I bared the sunken breast and took from my bag the probe I had brought with me.

"Just a moment, Mother," Ramses said. 'There may be an easier way."

It did not take long to accomplish what we had come for. When we had put everything to rights I paused to say a little prayer. The children stood by the coffin in silence, their heads bowed, but I would not care to commit myself as to whether they were praying.

Coming out of that dusty oppressive gloom was like rising in the bark of Amon-Ra from the dark waters of the Egyptian underworld. We hastened to the waiting carriage. The sun was high and hot, but groves of tall date palms cast a pleasant shade over the dusty road. We had passed the English cemetery and were nearing the hotel before anyone spoke. The speaker was myself.