The Golden One (64 page)

From the height where we stood, the Albions’s carriage was clearly visible. It had been there for several hours.

‘We know them slightly,’ I said. ‘Do you?’

‘Albion was one of my best customers. I stopped dealing with him a few years ago, after he tried to cheat me.’

‘Cheat you?’ Emerson repeated. ‘I wouldn’t have thought anyone could.’

‘Dear me, Radcliffe, was that meant to be sarcastic? He didn’t succeed. Watch out for him, that’s all I’m saying.’

When we parted for the day, Cyrus apologized for not inviting ‘Cousin Ismail’ to dinner. ‘Got to stand guard tonight,’ he explained. ‘But we’re expecting the
door to arrive in a day or two; once that is up and secured, we hope, sir, to see a great deal of you. I would very much enjoy a private chat.’

‘Thank you,’ said my brother-in-law.

I had assumed he would stay with us. He said he had made other arrangements, but would be delighted to join us for tea and an early supper. Jumana’s presence prevented conversation of a
personal nature, and when we got to the house Sennia was waiting on the veranda.

‘So this is Sennia,’ said Sethos, offering his hand. ‘I have heard a great deal about you – all to your credit, and all well deserved, I see.’

He had a way with women of all ages, and Sennia was no exception. Immensely flattered at the grown-up speech and gesture, she gravely shook hands with him. ‘Thank you, sir. I have not
heard about you, though. Are you a friend of ours?’

‘A very old friend,’ was the smiling reply. ‘Isn’t that so, Radcliffe?’

‘You call him Radcliffe?’ Sennia spread her skirts in a ladylike manner and took the chair he held for her. ‘He doesn’t like to be called that, you know.’

‘I had no idea,’ Sethos exclaimed. ‘What shall I call him, then?’

‘Well, I call him Professor,’ Sennia explained. ‘Aunt Amelia calls him Emerson, or “my dear”, and Nefret calls him Father, which he is, and Ramses calls him
“sir”, and some people call him “Father of Curses”.’

‘Perhaps “sir” would be best,’ said Sethos, wrinkling his brow. ‘What do you think, Sennia?’

I decided it was time to intervene. Emerson was biting his lip and muttering. ‘Speaking of names,’ I said, ‘perhaps you would allow us – your old friends – to use
your given name.’

‘Call me anything you like, Amelia dear,’ was the smiling and uninformative response.

At least it got us off the subject of names, though Sethos continued to address his brother deferentially as ‘sir’, which made Emerson swear under his breath.

‘Do you know Mr Vandergelt too?’ Sennia asked.

‘Oh, yes. One might say I know him as well as he knows himself.’ He left Sennia to puzzle over this enigmatic remark, which the rest of us understood quite well. ‘I have not
met Mrs Vandergelt, though, or her son.’

‘Can we have a party?’ Sennia asked eagerly.

‘We must certainly arrange something,’ I remarked. ‘But it will have to wait until the tomb is locked up.’

‘A wise precaution,’ Sethos agreed gravely. ‘One never knows, does one?’

‘We are glad to have you here, sir,’ Nefret said. ‘You will stay, we hope, for Cyrus’s celebration.’

‘He has good reason to celebrate,’ Sethos said. ‘And I understand you and your husband have another cause for rejoicing.’

‘How did you – how do you – ?’ Nefret gasped.

‘I have my sources,’ said Sethos. He held out his hand, and when he spoke the mockery was gone from his face and voice. ‘I wish you joy, Nefret. And you, Ramses. I suppose
you’ll be returning to England before long?’

‘Our child will be born in Egypt, as is fitting,’ Nefret said. ‘Do you suppose I’d allow a pompous male English physician to take care of me, when there are two trained
women obstetricians on the staff of my hospital?’

‘What about you?’ Emerson demanded of Sethos.

‘I’m in no hurry to leave. England hasn’t much to offer me.’ He smiled wickedly at his brother.

Emerson’s face reddened. ‘Neither has Luxor.’

‘My dear fellow, I wouldn’t dream of interfering with your activities. In fact, I would be delighted to assist in any possible manner.’

‘Ha,’ said Emerson.

Nefret turned her chuckle into a cough.

After dinner the men went off to stand guard. Emerson declined, with thanks, Sethos’s offer to join them.

‘Do you suppose he will ever get over suspecting my intentions?’ inquired my brother-in-law, after we had retired to the sitting room.

‘Perhaps,’ Nefret suggested, ‘if you would get over teasing him . . .’

‘I can’t resist, Nefret. He’s such an easy mark. I was teasing, though, when I implied I would stay on here. I must leave tomorrow.’

‘So soon?’ Nefret exclaimed. Impulsively she placed her hand on his shoulder. ‘You will miss Cyrus’s party. We want to keep you with us a while longer.’

‘You really mean it, don’t you?’ The strange grey-green eyes were, for once, very kind. ‘I’d like to, Nefret, but I can’t.’

‘You are going back to the war, aren’t you?’ I asked composedly. ‘I thought you had promised Margaret this would be your last assignment.’

‘The job’s not finished yet, Amelia dear. I made a quick trip here because – well, for two reasons. I must be getting old; I did want to see all of you. The other reason is
more . . . difficult.’

‘Would you like me to leave?’ Nefret asked.

‘No. Please stay. Did Amelia tell you about a conversation we had recently concerning my daughter?’

Nefret’s eyes widened, and I said, ‘I considered it a private confidence. I have not even told Emerson.’

‘Thank you, Amelia. I wasn’t quite myself at the time; what precisely did I say?’

‘You said she held you accountable for her mother’s death, and that she had run away from home. You attempted to find her at that time, I presume. A girl of fifteen or sixteen should
not have been able to elude a determined search.’

‘She was sixteen. But very precocious in a number of ways. Like her mother. I did search, long and hard, without result. I believe she had help, from one of Bertha’s former friends
– the same one who told Maryam – Molly – about her mother’s death. Recently I heard that she had found a – a protector, and was in Egypt. I’ve been playing with
the Turks ever since; haven’t had time to look for her here.’

‘I am very sorry,’ Nefret said gently. ‘Can nothing be done to save her?’

‘She doesn’t want to be saved. Especially by me.’

He had not given way, nor would he, but I knew he cared more for the girl than he would admit and that guilt as well as affection motivated his search. I began, ‘There is a chance that we
might – ’

‘You may encounter her; our Egypt is a small world, in a sense. That is why I brought the subject up. But, Amelia dear, don’t assume that because you managed to reform me – up
to a point – you can redeem the entire damned universe. If Maryam blames me for her mother’s death, how do you suppose she feels about you?’

He rose, rather heavily. ‘I’ll say good night, and good-bye. My regards to Ramses and – er – Emerson.’

‘Won’t we see you again?’ Nefret asked.

‘Not this time. I have business in Luxor before I leave tomorrow. If you learn anything about Molly, a message to our mutual friend with the preposterous name will reach me eventually. He
will notify you of any change in my situation.’

‘Your death, you mean?’ I asked steadily.

‘Now, Amelia, it isn’t like you to look on the dark side. Who knows, it may be a wedding invitation!’ His mocking smile faded and he said hesitantly, ‘If you should hear
from Margaret – ’

‘I will write her tomorrow,’ I promised. ‘Someone must know her current address.’

‘Thank you.’ He took my hand. ‘Turn your back, Nefret.’

She let out a gasp and so did I. Sethos laughed and caught me in his arms and kissed me – on the brow.

‘You will always be the woman I love,’ he said. ‘That doesn’t prevent me from loving Margaret as much. You understand, I think.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Turn your back, Nefret.’

Cyrus was bitterly disappointed when he learned of Sethos’s departure, though the arrival of the steel door, a day ahead of schedule, distracted him temporarily. Selim
assured him the men would bend their best efforts to have it in place the following day.

‘Then I can send out my invitations to the fantasia,’ Cyrus said. ‘Shame Ismail had to leave so soon, I was looking forward to seeing more of him.’

‘Typical,’ Emerson growled. ‘Comes and goes at his own convenience.’

‘He has other duties,’ I said reprovingly. ‘As you are well aware.’

We did hear from him once again, however. A letter, hand-delivered, awaited us when we got to the house that afternoon. It contained only two sentences: ‘There are strangers in Luxor. And
my former customer is still in the market.’

‘I can guess who that’s from, but what the dickens does it mean?’ asked Cyrus, who had come back with us for tea.

Emerson glanced around to make sure Sennia wasn’t listening. He lowered his voice.

‘It is confirmation of my suspicions, Vandergelt. Tonight is the last night the tomb will be open. I had a feeling Albion wouldn’t give up without a final attempt. He won’t get
help from the Gurnawis, but strangers, hired criminals, might be willing to attack us if the rewards were high enough.’

‘Good Lord!’ Cyrus ejaculated. ‘We’d better get over to Luxor right away. Have the fellows rounded up and put the fear of God into Joe Albion.’

‘I am surprised at you, Vandergelt. One cannot arrest people without evidence of a crime.’ Emerson smiled. It was not a nice smile. ‘I weary of Mr Albion and his family. We
will arrange a little ambush and catch them red-handed.’

‘Hmmmm.’ Cyrus stroked his goatee. ‘I like the idea, Emerson. Just so nobody gets hurt.’

‘And how do you mean to guarantee that?’ I demanded. ‘What if they are armed?’

‘We will have your pistol, Peabody,’ said Emerson, grinning.

‘We better have more than that,’ Cyrus said. ‘I’ve got a couple of rifles and a pistol, latest-model Mauser. I only hope I can sneak ’em out of the house without
Katherine seeing,’ he added uneasily.

We had to get Sennia off to bed before we made the final arrangements. Emerson had sent word to Selim, warning him of our suspicions and giving him his instructions, and Cyrus did manage to get
his weapons smuggled out of the Castle without Katherine’s knowledge. She would have been deeply distressed if she had known what we were up to.

A little contretemps arose at the last minute, when the men realized that Nefret and I and Jumana meant to accompany them. I put an end to their protests in short order, however.

‘So long as you don’t bring that damned sword parasol,’ was Emerson’s way of conceding defeat.

The moon was on the wane, but the dazzling desert stars gave sufficient light for us to make our way over the ancient path that crossed the gebel. When we reached Deir el Medina, all was quiet.
The coals of a fire burned near the place where our men were stationed; there were only four of them, including Selim. They had been ordered to look as if they had relaxed their guard, and on no
account to resist an attack. One by one we descended the slope, and found concealment in the shadows of the ruined tombs.

We waited for over an hour before they came, from the south, creeping along the base of the hill. I counted the dim shapes: twelve in all. The last two carried rifles. Like the others, they were
masked, but I had no difficulty in recognizing the rotund form of Mr Albion and the taller outline of his son. One might have expected they would lead their troops from behind! When Selim sprang to
his feet, Sebastian advanced, with his weapon aimed, while one of his hirelings called out in Arabic, ‘Do not move or we will shoot!’

For a moment I was afraid Daoud would forget his orders. It is not in his nature to submit meekly to threats. However, he remained seated, and within a few minutes our fellows were tightly
bound, gagged, and blindfolded.

‘Now?’ Cyrus whispered.

Emerson shook his head.

Sebastian put his rifle down and began to climb the ladder. Obeying his gesture, five of the others followed. Neither he nor his father had spoken; our people could hear, if they could not see,
and the use of English would have been a dead giveaway. Mr Albion sat down with a grunt, and the other men stood close by him.

Emerson waited until Sebastian had reached the platform outside the tomb. His stentorian voice echoed between the cliffs. ‘Stop where you are, all of you. You are surrounded by armed
men.’ He added in English, ‘Drop the rifle, Albion.’

‘Better fire a warning shot,’ Cyrus advised. ‘In case they haven’t noticed our weapons.’

We were all on our feet, except for Nefret, who had given me her word she would not expose herself to gunfire. Emerson pointed his rifle towards the temple and pulled the trigger.

The men with Albion broke like a drop of quicksilver, scattering in all directions. ‘Let them go,’ said Emerson, plunging down the slope. ‘It’s Albion I want.’

However, he was too late. I would never have supposed such a round, elderly man could move so fast. The bullet Emerson aimed at his heels only made him run faster.

‘Emerson,’ I said, tugging at his arm. ‘We had better do something about Sebastian, don’t you think?’

Emerson looked up and let out an exclamation.

The men who had started to follow Sebastian up to the platform were dropping to the ground, but Sebastian himself was still there – hanging by his hands from the edge of the platform and
screaming at the top of his lungs. Quite a number of people were shouting, so his cries had been lost in the uproar. He must have lost his balance when the gun went off.

‘I’ll get him,’ Ramses said.

‘Give him a hand, Bertie,’ Emerson ordered. ‘You’ll need to get a rope round the bloody idiot. There’s plenty in the supply shed. I wonder how much longer he can
hold on,’ he added with mild interest.

Nefret and I set about freeing our men, who set about collecting fallen tomb robbers. Some of them had dropped quite a distance, so there were sprains and a broken bone or two, which Nefret
treated in her usual efficient fashion.