Children of the Storm - Elizabeth Peters [83]
Fatima clapped her hands over her mouth and stared in horror. “Who would do such a thing?”
“That is indeed the question,” Ramses replied. He leaned back and lit a cigarette. “The job must have been done shortly before we got to the dock.”
“Half the population of Luxor knew our schedule,” I mused. “The miscreant was taking a chance, though. If we had been half an hour later, the boat would have been filling with water by the time we came. Half an hour earlier, and we would have caught him in the act. Didn’t anyone see or hear him?”
“There was no one nearby,” Ramses said. “Most of the boatmen had gone home. He wasn’t taking much of a chance, you know. If he hadn’t finished the job before we got there he’d have heard us in time to make himself scarce.”
“We are none of us children or cowards,” I said. “We must face the facts. I cannot imagine any boatman in Luxor being so vindictive, or so stupid as to risk Daoud’s wrath. No; it was aimed at us, but I must say it seems a very haphazard method of committing murder.”
“And somewhat wholesale,” said Emerson round the stem of his pipe. “Was he hoping to drown the lot of us, or was he after some one individual?”
“We can all swim,” I said thoughtfully. “That is generally known, I believe.”
“All except one,” said Ramses. “And that, too, is generally known.”
“Daoud,” Emerson muttered. “Impossible! He hasn’t an enemy in the world.”
NATURALLY NONE OF US ALLOWED our little misadventure to disturb our work schedule. The younger children were breakfasting in their own quarters, under the benevolent eyes of Fatima and Basima, so our own morning repast was soon concluded. However, we were subjected to a scathing lecture from Gargery, who had graciously ceded attendance on the children to Fatima. He pretended he was doing her a favor, but I fancy he had found four little ones a bit too much for him.
“Something is going on,” he declared, dribbling coffee into Emerson’s cup. “You’ve no right to keep it from me, sir and madam.”
It was one of Gargery’s more annoying habits (he had several) to dole out food and drink in minuscule quantities when he was annoyed with us. Emerson wrested the coffeepot from him.
“I don’t know what the devil is going on, Gargery,” he snarled. “And I do not intend to discuss it with you, especially in the presence of . . .” He nodded and winked in an exaggerated fashion, indicating Sennia.
For once she was tucking into her porridge without argument. She looked very neat and pretty that morning, with her hair tied back in a bow—and, I observed with a slight pang, very grown up. Emerson’s reference was not lost on her. With a slightly patronizing smile, she remarked, “I know all about it, Professor. Fatima told Gargery and me this morning.”
Gargery growled deep in his throat. He did hate hearing things secondhand from Fatima.
“It is very strange,” Sennia continued. “Who would want to hurt Daoud?”
“We don’t know that it was meant to hurt anyone,” Ramses replied. “The most the fellow could reasonably expect was that we would all get a ducking. The boat can be replaced, and will be, Sennia.”
His attempt at reassurance did not convince her. “Daoud can’t swim.”
“But we can,” Ramses insisted. “Father and I had him up within half a minute.” He laughed a little, and went on in a sprightly manner, “You should have seen him, Sennia. He never lost his calm, or his head—or even his turban!”
“It was a mean trick, though,” Sennia said, frowning. “What shall we do?”
“Go about our business as usual,” I replied. “That is our tradition, Sennia.”
“With a stiff upper lip?” Sennia inquired seriously.
“Quite right,” David agreed. “I hope you aren’t worried, Little Bird. It was a mean trick, as you said, but no one can possibly do something like that to you.”
“I am not at all worried. Aunt Nefret is teaching