He Shall Thunder in the Sky - Elizabeth Peters [108]
“Tell me where you are going, then, and what you expect will occur.”
“Very well.”
In my surprise I inhaled a bit of my veiling and had to extract it from my mouth before I spoke. “What, no argument?”
“Since you already know more than you ought,” said my son, “it is only sensible to tell you what more you need to know. We three will be seen dining in public and leaving the hotel together; I will slip away and you and Father will go directly home. The rendezvous is the ruined mosque near Burckhardt’s grave. Father knows the place. And you needn’t come along to protect me. David will be there, in safe concealment. He refused to let me go alone.”
“God bless the boy,” I murmured.
“Let us hope He will,” said Ramses.
We went first to the bank, which was on the Sharia Qasr el-Nil. The transaction did not take long. None of Emerson’s transactions take long. When we came out, Emerson was carrying my “satchel,” as Ramses had termed it. A thousand pounds in gold weighs considerable.
It was only a short drive from the bank to the Savoy Hotel, where, as Emerson now condescended to inform me, we were dining. I did not ask him why, since he would have told me a pack of lies and I had no doubt his true motive would become apparent in due course. The Savoy was favored by the “Best People” of Cairo officialdom and by British officers.
I believe that none of the persons present will ever forget the sight of Emerson striding into the Savoy carrying a large black satin handbag trimmed with jet beads. Few men but Emerson would have done it. No man but Emerson could have done it with such aplomb. After we had been shown to a table he put the handbag on the floor under the table and planted both feet firmly upon it.
“Are you trying to provoke someone into robbing us?” I inquired. “You might as well have held up a placard announcing we have something of value in that bag.”
“Yes,” said Emerson, opening his menu.
“Not much likelihood of that,” Ramses said. “No robber would rob the Father of Curses.”
“Hmph,” said Emerson, glowering at him over the menu. “Another of Daoud’s sayings? Not one of his best.”
He beckoned imperiously to the waiter. After we had got through the business of ordering our meals he planted his elbows on the table and looked curiously round the room.
Not all the tables were occupied. The hour was early for the “Best People.” The only ones I recognized were Lord Edward Cecil and several of his set. Catching Lord Edward’s eye, I nodded, and the gentleman hastily wiped the grin off his face.
“Who are those people with Cecil?” Emerson inquired.
I told him the names, which would mean no more to my Reader than they did to Emerson. “And that fellow who is smirking at Cecil?” he asked.
“His name is Aubrey Herbert,” Ramses said. “One of Woolley’s and Lawrence’s associates. He was once honorary attaché in Constantinople.”
“You know him?” Emerson demanded.
“I have met him.” A spark of amusement shone in Ramses’s half-veiled eyes. “I’ve been informed that he considers me frightfully underbred.”
“The opinions of such persons should not concern you,” I said indignantly.
“I assure you, Mother, they do not. May I ask, Father, what prompts your interest in him?”
“I am looking for someone,” said Emerson.
“Who?”
“That fellow Hamilton. You know him, don’t you, Ramses? You can point him out.”
“I don’t see him,” Ramses said. “What made you suppose he would be here?”
“He lives at the Savoy, doesn’t he? I know!” Emerson pushed his chair back. “I will send up my card.”
And off he went, fumbling in his pockets.
“Why this sudden interest in Major Hamilton?” I asked Ramses, nodding at the waiter to serve the soup. There was no sense in waiting for Emerson, who would return if and when he chose.
“I don’t know.”
“I do hope he doesn’t mean to quarrel with the Major.”
“Why should he?”
“The Major was somewhat rude at first, but Nefret said he was charming to her. Oh, dear. You don’t think your father intends to warn the Major to stay away from her, or—”
“No, I don’t.”
“Or perhaps it is the little girl. He might wish