Seeing a Large Cat (41 page)

"Then," said Abdullah, going straight to the point, "you will not kill the madman? He is innocent in the eyes of God."

"We do not wish to harm him, my father," Ramses said. "We must find him to keep him from being harmed, or harming others."

"What is your next question, Peabody?" Emerson inquired.

"They have been answered, Emerson." I folded my list and returned it to my pocket.

I was sitting on the verandah, deep in thought, and the sun was low in the western sky when I saw the rider approaching. The others were with Emerson in his study, or in the darkroom, for as he had acrimoniously remarked, there was no sense in wasting the entire day on unnecessary discussion. I went at once to summon them, for I felt sure they would want to hear what our visitor had to say. Cyrus did not ride at that speed unless urgency drove him.

"Have you been to the dahabeeyah?" I asked.

"Yes, ma'am, I have." Cyrus began tugging at his goatee in a manner that must have been quite painful. It was a sign of extreme perturbation. "Gol darn it, it is my boat, after all. I got to feeling a mite uneasy about Katherine being there. I'm even more uneasy now."

"Take a little whiskey, Cyrus, and tell us what happened," I urged.

"Thanks, Mrs. Amelia, but I won't have anything to drink just yet. I want to keep my wits about me. The Colonel has invited me to go shooting jackals with him. Now as you know, I don't take any pleasure in killing creatures that can't fight back on equal terms, not even varmints like jackals, but I decided I'd better go along and see what he was up to. I figured you folks ought to know about this right away."

"Can he have made an appointment with Scudder?" I asked. "But how? Did Mrs. Jones say anything to you about a message?"

Cyrus shook his head. "We didn't get much chance to talk. She did say he's been acting peculiar all day. Something happened to get him worked up, but she didn't mention any message."

Emerson and I exchanged glances.

"Perhaps he only wants to relieve his feelings by murdering helpless animals," said Ramses, whose views on hunting were well-known to us all. "But if Scudder has managed to communicate with him, we cannot allow Mr. Vandergelt to run the risk of accompanying him. One of us should-"

Four of us spoke in chorus. "Not you!"

Cyrus was the only one who had not spoken, but he had his own objections. "I can take care of myself, young fellow. What makes you think I'd be in danger? Bellingham doesn't bear any grudge against me."

"Bellingham will shoot anyone who gets between him and Dutton Scudder," Ramses said. "Just now he is as dangerous as a rabid dog, and as unpredictable."

"Which is precisely why you are not stirring from this house," I said. "Nor is David. Bellingham would have even fewer scruples about injuring him."

"Quite right," Nefret said coolly. "But I agree that someone ought to go with Mr. Vandergelt. I am the obvious person."

Ramses, already on his feet, went absolutely rigid. Before the words hovering on his lips could burst forth, Emerson spoke.

"This discussion has got completely out of hand," he said in the mild voice that had become a proverb in the villages of Egypt. Hardened criminals cowered when Emerson spoke in that purring tone. "Be quiet, all of you. Ramses-sit down."

"But, Father-"

"Sit down, I said. Your sister is not going anywhere. Neither are you. Vandergelt, where and at what time are you to meet the Colonel?"

"The favorite spots, as you know, are near the Ramesseum and the Valley of the Kings," Cyrus replied. "He suggested the latter. At sunset."

Emerson nodded. "Yes, that is the preferred time of day, when the creatures come out to hunt in the fading light. A perfect tune of day for an assassination or an unfortunate accident. It is a popular sport with some visitors. Bellingham has not done so before, has he?"

"I don't think so," Cyrus answered. "That does not mean-" I said, "In criminal investigation, any deviation from a suspect's established routine is significant."

"He is well armed?" Emerson asked. "Rifle and shotgun?"

"And a brace of pistols," Cyrus said grimly. "He showed me his arsenal this afternoon."

"Hmph," said Emerson. He knocked out his pipe, rose, and stretched. Muscles rippled along his arms and shoulders. It was an impressive spectacle, and it warned me of his intentions.

"Emerson, you are behaving just like a man!" I exclaimed.

"I hope so," said my husband, giving me a piercing look.

I was not to be distracted. "Flexing your muscles and issuing orders in that autocratic fashion! In this case what is wanted is not muscle but cunning and common sense. Nefret has the right of it. The Colonel might not scruple to endanger another man, but he would not shoot at her or any other woman."

Ramses jumped to his feet. "Mother, if you mean to allow Nefret to-"

"She is not referring to Nefret," said Emerson. "She is referring to herself. Peabody, you damned fool, don't you realize that at this moment Bellingham hates you more than anyone in the world except Scudder?"

This remarkable statement had the effect of capturing everyone's attention. Even Ramses, who was vibrating like the cursed air pump, sat down and stared at me.

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me," Cyrus remarked. "What have you done now, Mrs. Amelia?"

Emerson told them.

Ramses's eyes opened very wide. "You said that?"

"Dear Aunt Amelia." Nefret turned her face away. Her voice was a trifle unsteady.

"I do not understand why you are all making such a fuss," I remarked irritably.

Cyrus shook his head. "That would sure explain why Bellingham is worked up. Better keep your lady away from the fellow, Emerson, till he's had time to cool off."

The opinion was unanimous, so I was forced to give in, but I was unable to persuade Emerson to abandon his intention.

We stood in the open archway, watching as they rode off.

"Come back and sit down," I ordered, for to express my own anxiety would have been to increase theirs. "You cannot stand there like obelisks for the next two hours. Ramses, you might just get me a glass of whiskey and soda, if you would be so good."

Ramses went obediently to the table. "I don't suppose-" he began.

"No whiskey, Ramses."

"Yes, Mother."

Chapter Fourteen

A man asking for help ought at least give directions.

T he evening fusillade, as Emerson called it, was not always audible at our house; it depended on the direction of the wind and the kinds of weaponry employed by the hunters. It sounded very loud that evening. As the eastern sky darkened and dusk spread her veils across the ground, the distant echo of gunfire reached a crescendo.

"There must be dozens of hunters out this evening," David said. "It is a wonder they don't shoot one another."

He may have been trying to make polite conversation, but the subject was ill chosen. Ramses's response was not much more comforting. "There have been occasional accidents."

Gradually the frequency of firing diminished as the darkness grew. The first bright stars of night appeared in the sky over Luxor, and then, at last, we heard them coming. I ran to the doorway.

"Thank heaven you are back safely," I exclaimed. "What happened?"

"What did you expect would happen?" Emerson tossed the reins to Ramses. "I cannot imagine why I allowed all of you to hypnotize me into supposing something was going to happen! We spent most of the time lying flat behind a ridge, while a pack of nitwits blazed away at one another. The jackals must have been laughing themselves sick."

"Did you see Bellingham?" I asked.

"Yes." Emerson stumbled over a chair and swore. "What are you sitting in the dark for?"

"Watching for you. Do not curse the darkness, Emerson, light a lamp. No, let me do it, you always knock them over."

I proceeded to do so while Emerson mixed our whiskey. Cyrus scooped up Sekhmet and settled himself in a chair with the cat on his knee. The children had gone to the stable with the horses.

"Well?" I said.

"Well, bah," said Emerson. "If there was some hidden purpose behind Bellingham's expedition this evening, it eludes me. Scudder may be insane, but he is not stupid enough to wander into a melee like that one."

"Something funny is going on, though," Cyrus said slowly. "The Colonel was too darned pleased to see us. Solicitous, too. He was the one who insisted we take cover."

"He did not?" I asked.

"Not with us. Went off by himself. Didn't hear any screams, so I figure nobody got shot." Cyrus finished his whiskey and rose, depositing Sekhmet onto his vacated chair. "Guess I'll head for home. The boys will be on the Amelia tonight, like Ramses promised?"

"Did he? Yes, I believe he did, now that you mention it. We ought not leave Mrs. Jones without some rescuer at hand, just in case; but-"

"Good. I might just pay them a little visit myself later on. You might mention it to them; I wouldn't want those lads to mistake me for a burglar." Hat in hand, he stood for a moment looking out into the twilight. "Supposed to be a full moon tonight," he said, as if to himself. "I always have a hard time sleeping when it's a full moon."

The moonlight is always bright in Egypt; some claim that when the moon is at the full it is possible to read a newspaper by its light. I had never done so, since I usually have other things to occupy me at that time; but as the boys rode off toward the dahabeeyah, the silvery glow allowed us to make out their retreating forms until they reached the cultivation, almost a mile away.

I had lectured them before I sent them off, reiterating my adjurations to take care until even David showed signs of restlessness and Emerson requested that I stop talking. It had been a waste of breath. How could they take care against an unknown danger? I could not forbid them to go, however. Ramses had told Mrs. Jones they would be there, and an English gentleman keeps his word.

I had extracted a promise from Nefret that she would not go out; but as I prepared for bed I heard her soft footsteps moving restlessly around the house. The smell of pipe tobacco floated in through the open window; Emerson was outside, walking back and forth. Something landed on the windowsill with a thud I jumped and dropped my brush. I had not seen Anubis for several days. He had a habit of going off by himself, to hunt or perhaps to sulk; now he sat poised on the sill, his eyes lambent in the candlelight, his fur bristling.

"He is outside," I said. My voice sounded strange in the silence. "Good Gad, don't stare at me in that accusing way! What is wrong with you tonight?"

The cat vanished more silently than he had come. If I had had fur, mine would have been standing on end too. There was something in the air, a sense of waiting, of imminence, of...

"Why the devil are you sitting there staring at the mirror?" Emerson inquired.

I let out a little scream of exasperation and dropped my brush. "I wish you would not creep up on me like that, Emerson!"

"I was not creeping," said Emerson indignantly. "You were in such a brown study you failed to hear me. Why aren't you in bed?"

"I am not tired."

"Yes, you are." He turned his head sharply toward the door. "Someone is creeping around the house. I heard-"

"Nefret, I expect," I said. "Emerson, for heaven's sake don't leap on her! You are nervous tonight too."

"Nervous, bah," said Emerson. He opened the door. "Nefret, is that you? Go to bed at once."

"I won't sleep," Nefret said darkly.

"That is beyond my control," said Emerson. "Go to your room."

"Yes, sir," Nefret snapped. She went off, slim and indignant, still in trousers and shirt and boots. I felt certain she did not intend to change into her nightgown.

"I suppose there is no way of insuring that she will sleep," Emerson said. He gave me a hopeful look.

"No, Emerson, she is too intelligent to accept the offer of a nice hot cup of cocoa tonight."

Emerson threw himself down on the bed, fully clothed. "Come to bed, Peabody."

I did not bother to tell him to take off his boots. After a while he began to snore in an ostentatious manner.

I lay down, but I did not undress either. After a while I fell into one of those abominable states of consciousness when one is not sound asleep or fully awake. Every noise made me start. Finally, after an interminable interval, I gave it up. Surely morning could not be far off now. Emerson had stopped snoring, but I knew he was not asleep. When I spoke his name he responded instantly.

"Yes, Peabody?"

"I cannot sleep, Emerson."

"No more can I." He turned and put his arm around me. "Are you worried about the boys?"

"I always worry about them. It isn't that, however. We know most of the truth now; we ought to be able to anticipate what Scudder will do next."

"He wrote to us before. He may do so again."

"It would not be easy for him to deliver a message. We are overlooking something, Emerson. Scudder is doubtless a madman, but he is a romantic madman."

"I don't follow, Peabody."

"Everything he has done has been inspired by woolly-minded romanticism, like something out of a novel. The way he prepared her body, not in ancient Egyptian style but in a way that might have served as an illustration for such a novel-the enigmatic clues he sent us-the futile melodrama of bringing Bellingham to the scene to confront the body of his wife. He will play some equally futile, melodramatic game for his final confrontation. Would you care to guess what setting he will choose?"

"The tomb, of course," Emerson said, adding an emphatic swear word. "Why the devil didn't you say so before?"

"It only just now occurred to me. I was trying to think of a reason for Bellingham's unusual behavior this evening. Put the two facts together, Emerson: Bellingham was out with a shotgun, and he was near the entrance to the Valley."

"You think he received a message from Scudder?"

"Why else would he go out tonight?"

"Possible," Emerson muttered. "No, but see here, Peabody, if your-our-understanding of Scudder's motives is correct, he will want an audience, won't he? He would not have arranged to meet Bellingham alone, after dark."

"Audience, witnesses, referees," I replied. "In short, he will want us. I don't believe the rendezvous was set for this evening. Bellingham was merely scouting out the terrain. Scudder does not need to summon us to the performance. He will expect us to be at the tomb tomorrow. We always are."

"Then he will wait until we get there," Emerson said, pretending to yawn. "We may as well get some sleep for what is left-"

"He will wait. Will Bellingham?"

Before Emerson could answer we heard Nefret's voice.

"Someone is coming. Hurry!"

She had not been sleeping either. We reached the verandah in time to see the boys dismount. "What are you doing here so early?" Emerson demanded. "It is not-"

"Dawn will break in another hour," Ramses interrupted. "And I fear it is already too late."

The moon was setting, but there was light enough for me to see the lines of anxiety that marked his face. I started impetuously forward. Emerson caught me in an iron grip.

"If it is already too late, five more minutes will not matter," he said calmly. "Explain yourself, Ramses."

"Colonel Bellingham did not return to the Valley of the Kings this evening," Ramses said. "To the dahabeeyah of that name, that is; he must have gone directly ..." He took a deep breath and started over. "It was Mrs. Jones who signalled us. She was waving a piece of cloth, I think; I could not see it clearly, but her presence on deck at that hour and the way she kept waving her arms were sufficient evidence of agitation. The Colonel had told her he would not be there for dinner, so she did not begin to worry until she woke an hour ago and realized he had not come back. Is that enough for you, Father?

We must go at once. Some hunters find moonlight sufficient. Or the first light of dawn."

We took the path over the gebel; even the horses could not go as quickly in the dark and along the uneven surface of the Valley. The moon was down and the first streaks of dawn were pale in the sky before we started down the steep path. The glow of a fire below greeted us; the gaffirs who guarded the Valley were gathered round it, brewing their morning coffee. They greeted us with pleasure but without surprise. Nothing Emerson did could surprise them. When he asked if they had seen any strangers, they exchanged glances and shrugged.

"We slept, Father of Curses. There were hunters on the gebel, but no one came this way."

We hastened on. Ramses and Emerson outstripped the rest of us; they were standing near the entrance of the tomb when we caught them up. They were staring at something lying on the ground.

Ramses picked it up-a heavy stick with a golden handle. Grasping both ends of the stick, he twisted and pulled. Steel glimmered in the pale light.

"A sword stick," I said. "We ought to have known, oughtn't we? He was here. How did he get here unobserved?"

Ramses gestured. "The goat path. We showed him how! The rope is probably still there. He was here before dawn, waiting. He may not be dead. Yet..."

Then he was gone, plunging down the steps and into the tomb at breakneck speed.

"Stay here," Emerson snapped, and followed after him.

He could not possibly have supposed that any of us would. There was nowhere else the two men we sought could have gone. I too had observed the disturbance of the fine sandy dust on the steps, as if something large and heavy had been dragged down them.

As I entered the hot, dark passageway I was pleased to see that Emerson had had the good sense to stop long enough to light a candle. It glimmered like a will-o'-the-wisp, ahead and below. I stumbled over the pipe and fell forward against Emerson.

"Curse it, Peabody," he remarked.

"Never mind that," I gasped. "Where is Ramses?"

"Bring the light." It was my son's voice. I could just make him out, crouched on the sloping floor. Behind him was a dark opening-that of the chamber Emerson had found the day before. Above and beside him were the dim shapes of the beams that supported the ceiling; next to him was another shape, like a bundle of rags.

Emerson advanced, holding the candle high. Ramses did not look up. Taking hold of the amorphous thing beside him, he pulled at it until it lay flat-as flat as it could get on that slanted surface. The light reflected off eyeballs opaque as frosted glass. The mouth gaped open and the crooked nose cast a grotesque shadow across one cheek. Dutton Scudder had come to his final resting place in the tomb he had prepared for the woman he loved.

Ramses took the candle from his father and drew the torn galabeeyah aside. The feeble light left the lower part of the torso in merciful shadow; flesh and fabric, bone and muscle, had been smashed into a dark and dreadful mass. Ramses's forefinger touched an old scar, approximately an inch long, just below the collarbone.

"If he had aimed a few inches higher, he would have obliterated this," Ramses said. "It was not bad shooting in that light, though."

"Thank you." The Colonel stepped forward from the darkness of the chamber. His tweed hunting suit was stained and ripped, but his face was the usual courteous mask. He held a double-barrelled shotgun in the crook of his arm.

Ramses straightened, and Bellingham said pleasantly, "What a pity you were early this morning. Had you come at your usual time, you would have found me gone and the evidence buried under several tons of fallen stone. No, Professor, stay where you are. I have nothing to lose now, and few compunctions about harming those who have brought me to this. Except... Go back, Miss Forth. I have no desire to injure you."

Naturally Nefret did not go back; only Emerson's outstretched arm kept her from advancing farther. "Please, Colonel, there is no need for anyone to be injured," she said in a gentle, soothing voice. "Let us all go back-you, too. Come with me. Take my hand."

Bellingham laughed. "Very pretty, Miss Forth, but it is too late for your feminine wiles. I knew yesterday that Mrs. Emerson had succeeded in poisoning your mind against me. She accused me then of killing Lucinda-"

"Oh, dear," I said. "How true it is that the guilty flee where no man pursueth. You misunderstood my meaning, Colonel."

"There is no longer any doubt in your mind, is there? But perhaps there are a few points about which you are still uncertain. That must vex you. Come here to me, and I will answer your questions."