Children of the Storm - Elizabeth Peters [145]
“You were digging too,” I said, observing the broken nails and scraped knuckles and scorched palms. “Come to the clinic and I will—”
“Well, of course I was digging. Did you expect me to stand idly by while Ramses was being heroic?”
Ramses let out a sound like a softer version of his father’s growl. “We were both extremely heroic,” Sethos said soothingly. “Don’t fuss, Amelia, I applied half a bottle of whiskey—and even a little soap and water.” He took a chair next to Maryam and Fatima hurried to set a place for him.
“Are you all right, sir?” Maryam turned a pretty, anxious face toward him.
“Quite. Why are you all getting worked up? This was an isolated incident, and at present the cause is unknown. I telegraphed Cairo to that effect first thing this morning. Unless something else occurs I believe they will be content to leave the investigation in my hands and those of the police.”
“I hope so. Candidly,” I declared, “at this moment I don’t give a curse about riots and insurrections, and the explosion cannot have any bearing on our other problems.”
“Problem,” Sethos corrected. “There is a common cause, and last night Ramses and I . . . Oh, thank you, Fatima. That looks delicious. Last night we discovered one of the links. Have you told them, Ramses?”
“Haven’t had a chance,” Ramses said curtly. “Your discovery, anyhow.”
I will confess, in the pages of this private journal, that my first reaction to Sethos’s account was chagrin. I ought to have thought of it myself. Is not “cherchez la femme” a favorite axiom? Not with me, however, and in a case of presumed strangulation a female does not immediately leap to mind.
“Well done,” I conceded. “Though, if I may say so, certain of your conclusions are based on unsubstantiated extrapolation. I do not . . . I beg your pardon, Emerson? Did I hear a reference to pots and kettles?”
“I would never express such a trite aphorism, Peabody.”
“Hmm. As I was about to say, I do not see that this gets us much further. We had postulated a gang, had we not?”
“But now we know—” Catching my eye, Ramses amended the statement. “We may reasonably assume that the appearances of Hathor are not extraneous to the pattern we have been trying to establish. There is a woman involved.”
“A young, beautiful woman,” Nefret murmured.
“Quite,” said Ramses. He snapped off another bit of sausage.
“But what was the purpose of those ridiculous appearances?” I cried in exasperation. “And who the devil is she?”
“A permanent resident of Luxor or a tourist who arrived in Luxor over a month ago,” said Sethos.
“A month?” I asked.
“I’ve made a timetable,” Sethos explained, with a superior smile at me. He knew I had not, or I would have said so. “Martinelli disappeared over three weeks ago. Give her a week or so before that to become acquainted with him. If it is the same woman, she made a quick trip to Cairo when you did, and then came back in time to arrange to sink Daoud’s boat and stage her second appearance. There is every reason to believe she is still here.”
“That limits the number of suspects, surely,” David said thoughtfully. “Most tourists stay for only a few days, and there aren’t that many permanent residents who are female.”
“And young and beautiful and—er—no better than she should be,” I agreed. “It can’t be one of that group. I know them all, and I assure you one of my acquaintances would have informed me if a newcomer had settled here.”
“She’s right about that,” said Emerson to the group at large. “Those females are always quick to relay the latest gossip.”
“Still, there is no harm in inquiring,” Sethos said. He had taken advantage of the lull to empty his plate, which Fatima immediately refilled. “No, Amelia, not you; a direct question to one of your friends would arouse curiosity, and we must avoid that at all costs. I will make my availability for social functions of all sorts known to the good ladies of Luxor society. A new face is always welcome, and there is no man more welcome than an eligible bachelor.”
“You had better do something to your face if you intend