Seeing a Large Cat (40 page)

"Is there electricity at night, Emerson? Perhaps they turn it off after the tourists have gone. Its primary function, I believe, is to light the popular tombs."

Emerson appeared quite struck by this idea. "Hmph. You may be right, Peabody. I neglected to ask Carter about that. I will just see if I can catch him up. Or perhaps Reis Ahmed will know...."

The last word came floating back to me as he strode briskly away.

I went to Selim, who was perched on the ledge above the stairs, swinging his feet and eating his midday meal. The other men tactfully moved away as I sat down beside him.

He answered my question without hesitation. The generator functioned only during the day-when it worked at all. I said curiously, "How did you find out about these things, Selim?"

He gave me a sidelong look from under his long lashes. "I wanted to learn how they work, Sitt. It is a kind of magic, no doubt...."

"It has always seemed so to me," I agreed with a smile. "But it is a kind of magic I know nothing about. Can you work this machine as well as the Father of Curses?"

"With God's help," said Selim piously-but his black eyes twinkled.

"Yes, of course. Thank you, Selim."

I left him to finish his meal and went to meet Emerson, who had learned from the reis that his beloved apparatus would indeed stop functioning at sunset when the Valley was officially closed to tourists. He was quite put out about it and unwilling to leave the confounded thing.

"Explain to Selim what he must do if it stops between now and sunset," I suggested.

Emerson continued to look doubtful, so I applied pressure. "What is more important, Emerson, bringing a murderer to justice or playing with-that is, wasting your talents on a mechanic's job? Abdullah should get out of the sun, and he won't go while you are here. We will take him with us to the house on the pretense of consulting him about the case."

The last argument convinced him. Emerson was really not especially worried about bringing a murderer to justice- unless the murderer was after one of us-but he was devoted to Abdullah.

After Emerson had given Selim a long lecture to which he pretended to listen intently, we left the young fellow comfortably settled, with two of his cousins to keep him company, and the rest of us set off on the homeward path. As we entered the main branch of the Valley I slowed my steps.

"What are you gaping at?" Emerson demanded.

"Reis Hassan told me Mrs. Jones and the Bellinghams had gone toward the Valley this morning. I thought they might have meant to visit us."

Emerson put an arm round my shoulders and hurried me along. "They have been and gone."

"What? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you did not ask."

"Curse you, Emerson-"

"I beg your pardon, my dear. I cannot resist teasing you a little when you get into one of those businesslike moods of yours. Save your breath for the climb. In fact," Emerson continued, giving me a helping hand up the slope, "I have no idea what the devil the Colonel wanted; he showed us how the zinc pipe was attached, but could not explain why the pump was not functioning at that time. One would suppose that a man who claims to have been an engineer would know-"

"Emerson, please stop talking about the cursed air pump. Was the Colonel an engineer?"

"He served in the Corps of Engineers during his war," Emerson replied.

"Hmph. I would have supposed the cavalry was more to his taste."

"It is far more romantic," Emerson agreed with a curl of his handsome lip. "However, in modern warfare a man who can build and repair bridges is more useful than a fellow who wants to gallop into battle brandishing a sword. All right now, Peabody?"

We had paused at the top of the cliff to catch our breath. I indicated I was ready to proceed.

"Was Dolly with him?" I asked.

"Yes. No doubt as to what she was after. As soon as I informed her Ramses was in Luxor she began complaining about the heat and the dust and the flies, and the Colonel took her away." Emerson chuckled. "I must give Ramses a little lecture on how to avoid predatory young women."

"Are you certain he wants to avoid her?"

"Let me put it this way, Peabody. I do not believe you need worry about having Dolly Bellingham as your daughter-in-law."

I had expected the children would be back from Luxor, but they were not.

"Now where do you suppose they have got to?" I demanded. "They said they would finish that lot of plates and come straight here."

"Stop fussing like a mother hen, Peabody. They are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves."

I left Emerson and Abdullah on the verandah and went to freshen up. A hail from Emerson summoned me while I was doing so, and I hastened to return, in time to see my wandering children ride up. Before I could begin my lecture Nefret slid off Risha's back and hurried toward us. "Good, you are all here," she exclaimed. "Salaam aleikhum, Abdullah. Look! Look, all of you!"

I had a nasty feeling I knew what she was about to do. So did Emerson, I believe. He jumped up with a muffled oath. Before he could prevent her she returned to Risha and sprang...

Smack up against the horse's side. Her feet hit the ground and her forehead came into emphatic contact with the saddle.

"Curse it," said Nefret cheerfully.

The boys had both dismounted and were watching, David with a grin and Ramses with a face that might have been carved from granite. He had flinched visibly, though, when Nefret slipped.

"Nefret," Emerson began, "I wish you would not-"

"I know how, really I do!" She rubbed her forehead and gave him a wide smile. "I did it before. That is always what happens when one tries to show off! Now then, Risha ..."

If a horse could shrug, Risha would have. He seemed to brace himself. So did Ramses.

After a moment I said, "You can open your eyes, Ramses."

Triumphantly aloft, Nefret turned to frown at her brother. "Didn't you see me? Why weren't you watching? I did it! Abdullah, did you see? Professor?"

"Yes, my dear," said Emerson faintly. "That was splendid. Would you mind not doing it again?"

"You have to spring," Nefret explained, gesticulating. "With one leg. Your hand and your other foot only steady you while Risha-"

"We saw," I said. "So you were practicing, were you? Very nice. You had better let Risha have a little rest now. Run in and bathe your face and hands, we are going to have a council of war."

They claimed they had eaten, but I suspected it was only some mess or other they had bought from a food seller in Luxor. Anyhow, young people can always eat. I told Ali to bring tomatoes and cucumbers, bread and cheese, and all of them rucked in with good appetite. Nefret's forehead was rather lumpy and she would have a scab on the end of her nose, but she was obviously unconcerned about her bumps and bruises. She is still such a child, I thought, affectionately. And why not? She had never had a childhood or a normal life until we brought her to live with us.

Some pompous individuals might have said her life since then had not been normal either. Climbing pyramids, excavating tombs, and pursuing criminals seemed to suit her, however, and who was I to deny her the rights upon which I had always insisted and of which most females in our society are unfairly deprived? Even the right to fall off a horse when she chose.

They left it to me to open the meeting, which was only proper. I chose an oblique approach.

"I suppose you all went round to the English cemetery after I left you?"

David's eyes sparkled. "I told you she would find out. She always knows."

"Yes," Abdullah agreed. "She does. What is this about the cemetery?"

"There were wildflowers scattered over Mrs. Bellingham's grave," I explained. "We know it was not the Colonel who put them there."

"We know?" Emerson repeated.

Nefret pushed her plate aside and leaned forward. "I think Aunt Amelia is right. But never mind that now. There are some things we do know. I have made a list."

She took a folded paper from her shirt pocket.

"An interesting approach," I said with an approving nod. "I have made a list too-not of facts, but of questions to be answered. Let us hear yours first, Nefret."

"It is a collaborative effort, in fact," Nefret said, smiling at Ramses and David. "We worked it out together."

"Excellent," said Emerson. "Proceed, my dear."

"Yes, sir." Nefret unfolded the paper. "Fact number one. Mrs. Bellingham was not abducted by Scudder. She eloped with him."

"Oh, come," Emerson exclaimed. "That may well be the case, but how can you state it as a fact?"

"Too many petticoats," I said. Nefret grinned at me. Emerson threw up his hands.

"My dear, it is obvious," I said. "She had at least ten petticoats with her. Women do not wear more than three or four under today's skirts; a smooth line from the waist to . . ." Seeing Emerson's expression, I concluded I had better not enlarge on the subject of skirts. "Another conclusive point is that she also had with her a ball gown-the blue damask that served as the outermost shroud. She was last seen wearing an afternoon frock. She could not have changed into evening attire without the assistance of her maid or her husband, neither of whom admitted to having seen her. Ergo, she must have left the hotel shortly after she returned from the tea party at the consulate-with a trunk or suitcase. Can you picture a kidnapper waiting for her to pack her clothing and then removing it and the lady without her active cooperation?"

"Hmph," said Emerson.

"I am glad you agree, Emerson. Proceed, Nefret."

"Point two. The wound that killed her was made by a long sharp blade that went straight through her body. She was facing the killer, and on her feet at the time."

"Bismallah!" Abdullah exclaimed. "How could you-"

"That was Ramses's contribution," Nefret said, nodding graciously at my son. "I confess I was not cool enough to examine the body so closely."

"It was obvious from the positions and relative sizes of the entry and exit wounds," said Ramses.

"Quite right," I said. "Had she been kneeling, the blade would have penetrated her body at an angle."

Emerson began, "What if she..." Then he stopped. "I think I see what you are getting at. Go on, Nefret."

"Point three. There were traces of natron on the body."

"What!" Emerson exploded. "When did you-how did you-"

"Emerson, this is going to take all day if you continue interrupting," I said. "I told Mr. Gordon from the American consulate-in your presence, if you recall-that samples of the skin ought to be taken in order to determine the substance employed to preserve the body. We took such scrapings the other morning. You tested them, Ramses?"

Ramses nodded. "I have myself experimented with natron as a preservative agent. It is much more effective than ordinary sand, which is why the ancients used it to-"

"But that is extraordinary," Emerson ejaculated. "How did Scudder get it to Luxor? He would need several hundred pounds of the stuff to cover ... Hmmmm."

"Precisely," said Ramses. "The logical conclusion is that he did not have to transport that weight of natron because it was already available to him. They must have been at or near the Wadi Natrun when she died."

"So when they fled from Cairo they went south, instead of to Alexandria or Port Said," I said thoughtfully. "That is where the Colonel and the police would look for them, at one of the ports. Scudder must have had friends or acquaintances in one of the villages. Excellent! That should be our next-"

"I believe, Mother, that such an investigation would be a waste of time," Ramses said. "It would give us no clue to Scudder's present whereabouts. Nefret, you have one more item on your list, I believe."

"Number four. It was Scudder who wrapped the body and brought it to Luxor-"

Emerson's lips parted, and I said quickly, "Now, Emerson, don't argue. We had assumed it was so, but had never subjected the assumption to logical analysis. Given what we now know, it is the only possible conclusion."

"Ha," said Emerson.

"I had not quite finished, Aunt Amelia," Nefret said. "He brought it to Luxor and found a proper tomb for it, not as a ghastly joke but as an act of reverence and atonement. He loved her and he loves her still. It was he who scattered the flowers on her grave."

Abdullah inserted a finger under his turban and delicately scratched his head. "Hmph," he said in almost Emerson's tones. "A man might kill his woman if she was unfaithful or if she tried to leave him. But why did he not bury her in the sand and leave her there?"

"Very good, Abdullah," I said. "That was one of my questions. I think we know the answer, though. Scudder is mad."

Abdullah looked pleased. "But," he said, "if the man is mad, he is under the protection of God."

Ramses stared at the old man as if he had just said something clever. Before he could comment, supposing he had intended to do so, I took my list from my pocket.

"Here are my other questions. First-why did Colonel Bellingham come back to Egypt?"

"No," Emerson said. "That is the wrong question, Peabody. We know why he returned."

"Do you believe he told us the truth?"

"Yes," said Emerson.

"Hmph. Well, so do I. Then how would you-"

"You might rather ask why he remains."

"We know that too," I said. "He wants to kill Scudder. Curse it, Emerson, will you let me get on with my questions?"

"Certainly, my dear."

I looked at my list. "Two-why did Scudder want us to find the mummy?"

"Again," said Emerson before anyone else could speak, "I must take exception to the way you have phrased the question, Peabody. Do you mean, why did Scudder want the mummy to be found, or why did he select us to find it?"

"But who else would he choose?" Abdullah asked. "Who but the wisest, the most famous, the most skilled man-uh- people-in the world?"

I smiled at the ingenuous compliment-and then I, like Ramses, stared at Abdullah. "Good Gad," I breathed.

"Quite," said Ramses. He went on in Arabic, addressing Abdullah. "My father, you are the wisest of us all. Not once, not twice, but three times you have showed us the way."