Children of the Storm - Elizabeth Peters [79]
“No, thank you. We will only take a few minutes of your time. We called to—”
“Complain of my grandson,” she broke in.
She appeared to like plain speaking, so I decided to oblige her. “No, we came to complain about Justin’s manservant. He was responsible for my husband’s fall off a cliff yesterday.”
“I trust he was not seriously injured.”
It was not the words but the tone that I found somewhat irritating. Old age has its privileges, but in my opinion rudeness is not one of them.
“No thanks to François,” I retorted. “Do you consider him a suitable person to look after a gentle boy like Justin?”
“That is, I presume, a criticism couched as a question. Obviously I do, or I would not continue to employ him.” She went on in a less autocratic tone. “I regret the injury to your husband, and I have spoken to François. It won’t happen again. Why did you give my companion that hat?”
The abrupt change of subject left me speechless for a moment. I rallied instantly, of course. “She had lost hers and it was improper for her to appear in public without one.”
“It is a pretty hat,” said Mrs. Fitzroyce. “I had an even prettier one when I was a girl. It had on it a stuffed cockatoo with rubies for eyes.”
Her head bobbed up and down and she spoke in a soft, crooning voice quite unlike her earlier peremptory tones. I looked questioningly at the doctor. He smiled and shrugged. Evidently the old lady had “spells” too, sinking into senile reminiscence without warning.
“Is she here?” I asked.
“No, she has been dead for twenty years,” murmured Mrs. Fitzroyce. “She was a beautiful girl, but not so beautiful as I . . .”
“Miss Underhill has gone with Justin and François to Karnak,” said the doctor smoothly.
“Quite right,” said Mrs. Fitzroyce, snapping back into coherence. “Why do you take it upon yourself to answer questions addressed to me, Khattab?”
“Your pardon, madame.” The doctor’s grin appeared to be glued in place.
Not knowing how long the old lady would keep her wits, I said, “We discovered, Miss Underhill and I, that we had acquaintances in common. I wonder if she might be allowed to come to us, for dinner, or for the day, at some time.”
“She is a good girl,” Mrs. Fitzroyce murmured. I was not sure whether she was referring to the long-dead beauty or to Maryam, until she went on, “Very faithful. She has not missed a single day since she came to me.”
She raised a limp hand, which was promptly grasped by Dr. Khattab. “Faint,” he announced portentously. “Too faint, dear lady.”
“We are tiring you,” I said, rising. “Good day.”
“Has not the pretty Mrs. Emerson something to say?” the old lady inquired.
“Only good day,” said Nefret, on her feet.
“You are very pretty,” said Mrs. Fitzroyce judiciously. “But not as pretty as she was.”
The doctor remained with his patient, and one of the crewmen escorted us to the gangplank.
“You didn’t tell her about Maryam,” Nefret said in a low voice.
“There is a limit to the degree of interference even I consider appropriate,” I replied. “I do not have the right to expose Maryam’s secret to her employer. Mrs. Fitzroyce is an interesting individual, isn’t she?”
“She must have been quite a commanding character before her mind began to go. No wonder they need such a large staff, with Mrs. Fitzroyce increasingly feeble in mind and body, and Justin utterly unpredictable.”
Since it was still early, we strolled back along the corniche toward the suk. Luxor is not a large town; it was not long before we ran into Lia and Evelyn. At my suggestion we joined forces and went looking for Walter and David, who were likely to lose track of the time in their search for antiquities. We located them in the shop of Omar, drinking tea and inspecting the old rascal’s collection of dubious papyri and questionable ushebtis. Omar’s shop was always worth a look, since he occasionally mixed a few genuine articles in with his spurious artifacts. I believe he enjoyed testing the knowledge of his buyers, for he always gave in with good grace and no shame at all when his duplicity was exposed. David was particularly skilled