He Shall Thunder in the Sky - Elizabeth Peters [38]
Ramses vaulted the rail, landing lightly on the pavement ten feet below. Emerson was only a few seconds behind him, but being somewhat heavier, he dropped straight down onto the Montenegrin doorkeeper and had to pick himself up before following Ramses toward the scene of destruction. Several officers, who had descended the steps in the normal fashion, ran after them. Other people had converged on the spot, forming a shoving, struggling, shouting barricade of bodies.
“Let us not proceed precipitately,” I said to Nefret, neatly blocking her attempt to get round the table and past me.
“Someone may be hurt!”
“If you go rushing into that melee, it will be you. Stay with me.”
Taking her arm in one hand and my parasol in the other, I pushed through the agitated ladies who huddled together at the top of the stairs. The street was a scene of utter chaos. Vehicular and four-footed traffic had halted; some vehicles were trying to turn and retreat, others attempted to press forward. People were running in all directions, away from and toward the spot. The fleeing forms were almost all Egyptians; I fended a wild-eyed flower vendor off with a shrewd thrust of my parasol, and drew Nefret out of the path of a portly turbaned individual who spat at us as he trotted past.
By the time we reached the scene the crowd had dispersed. Ramses and Emerson remained, along with several officers, including Percy. The Egyptians had vanished, except for two prisoners who struggled in the grip of their captors, and a third man who lay crumpled on the ground. Standing over him was a tall, rangy fellow wearing the uniform of an Australian regiment.
“Excuse me,” Nefret said. The Australian moved automatically out of her way, but when she knelt beside the fallen man he reached for her, exclaiming, “Ma’am—miss—here, miss, you can’t do that!”
Ramses put out a casual hand, and the young man’s arm flew up into the air.
“Keep your hands off the lady,” Percy ordered. “She is a qualified physician, and a member of one of this city’s most distinguished families.”
“Oh? Oh.” The young man rubbed his arm. Colonials are not so easily intimidated, however; looking from Ramses to Percy, he said, “If she’s a friend of yours, you get her away from here. This is no place for a lady.” He transferred his critical stare to me. “Any lady. Is this one a friend of yours too?”
Percy squared his shoulders. “I would claim that honor if I dared. You may go, Sergeant; you are not needed.”
Reminded thus of their relative ranks, the young man snapped off a crisp salute and backed away.
“What’s the damage, Nefret?” Emerson inquired, studiously ignoring Percy.
“Broken arm, ribs, possible concussion.” She looked up. The brim of her flower-trimmed hat framed her prettily flushed face. The flush was due to anger, as she proceeded to demonstrate. “How many of you gentlemen kicked him after he was down?”
“It was necessary to subdue the fellow,” Percy said quietly. “He was about to throw a second grenade onto the terrace of Shepheard’s.”
“Dear me,” I said. “What happened to it?”
Too late, I remembered I had sworn never to speak to Percy again. With a smile that showed me he had not forgotten, he removed his hand carefully from his pocket.
“Here. Don’t worry, Aunt Amelia, I got it away from him before he had removed the pin.”
Nefret refused to leave her patient until an ambulance arrived. He was still unconscious when they put him into it. By that time the police were on the scene and the soldiers had dispersed. Percy had been the first to leave, without speaking to any of us again.
Emerson helped Nefret to her feet. Her pretty frock was in a deplorable state; Cairo streets are covered with a number of noxious substances, of which dust is the least offensive. Ramses inspected her critically and suggested