He Shall Thunder in the Sky - Elizabeth Peters [189]
“Tell me,” David said quietly.
There was no putting it off; David knew he wouldn’t have risked coming there undisguised without a good reason. He got the news out in a single blunt sentence, before David could imagine even worse.
David sat without moving for a time, his eyes downcast. Johnny had been his foster brother before he became his brother-in-law, but it was of Lia he was thinking now.
“We’ll get you on a boat next week,” Ramses said, unable to bear the stoic silence any longer. “Somehow. I promise.”
David raised his head. His eyes were dry and his face frighteningly composed. “Not until this is over and you’re in the clear.”
“It’s over. I saw Russell before I came here and told him to go ahead. There’ll be no uprising.”
“What about the Canal?”
“That’s not our affair. I’m through. So are you.”
“So you’re going to let Percy get away with it?”
Ramses had always prided himself on schooling his features so as to give nothing away, but David could read him like a book. He started to speak. David spoke first.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said last night—and what you didn’t say, because I didn’t give you the chance. I can put the pieces together too. The house in Maadi, Percy’s extraordinary interest in your activities—he’s afraid you’re after him, isn’t he?”
“David—”
“Don’t lie to me, Ramses. Not to me. When I think of him smug and safe in Cairo, preening himself on his cleverness, while men like Johnny are dying, I feel sick. You aren’t going to let him get away with it. If you don’t tell me what you’re planning to do, I’ll kill the bastard myself.”
“Do you suppose Lia would thank you for risking yourself to avenge Johnny? Killing Percy won’t bring him back.”
“But it would relieve my feelings considerably.” David’s smile made a chill run through Ramses. He had never seen that gentle face so hard.
“I have a few ideas,” Ramses said reluctantly.
“Somehow I thought you would.” The smile was just as chilling.
It didn’t take long to explain his plan, such as it was. As he listened, David’s clenched hands loosened. There were tears in his eyes. He could grieve for Johnny now.
Oddly enough, it wasn’t Johnny’s face that Ramses kept remembering. It was that of the young German.
From Letter Collection B
Dearest Lia,
At least a week will have passed before you receive this. What good is a letter? It’s all I can do. If I were with you I could put my arms round you and cry with you. There’s no use saying the pain will lessen and become, in time, endurable. What comfort is that to someone who is suffering here and now?
You were there to comfort me when I needed you—selfish, ungrateful, undeserving worm that I was—and now I can’t be with you when you need me. Believe one thing, Lia—hold on to it and don’t lose heart. Someday, someday soon, there will be joyous news. I can’t say any more in a letter. I shouldn’t be saying this much. Just remember that there is nothing I would not do to bring us all together again.
•
Fourteen
•
The Vandergelts left us immediately after breakfast next morning. They would have stayed had we asked them to, but I think Katherine understood we wanted to be alone with our grief. The worst of it was that we could do nothing for the loved ones who had suffered most. I had written, and Nefret had done the same; Emerson had cabled, and Ramses had taken the messages to the central post office in Cairo, so that they would arrive as soon as was humanly possible. It was little enough.
Ramses came back in time to bid the Vandergelts farewell. He had left the house before daybreak, and I knew that before posting the letters he had looked for the message that would announce the final end of his mission. Meeting my anxious eyes he shook his head. Not today, then. It would be for tomorrow.
Knowing he had eaten almost nothing before he left, I suggested we return to the breakfast room and give Fatima the pleasure of feeding us again. Her face brightened when I asked her for more toast and coffee.
“Yes, Sitt Hakim, yes! You must keep up your strength.