Lion in the Valley - Elizabeth Peters [121]
“He hired Kalenischeff, not to lead Miss Debenham to Donald, but to mislead her. But Kalenischeff would have betrayed Ronald for a price, and Ronald had to stop him. It is not difficult to hire assassins in Cairo. Kalenischeff was lured to Miss Debenham’s room, not only because he was more vulnerable to attack there, but because Ronald hoped to incriminate his ‘delicate darling,’ as he had the audacity to call her, and keep her from pressing her search. I suspect, Miss Debenham, that he resented your contemptuous treatment of him and his proposal of marriage, and you may thank heaven you did not change your mind, for, once in his power, you would have paid for your contumely in tears and anguish. He is a vicious and vindictive man.”
“Amazing, Professor,” Donald exclaimed. “You are right in every particular; you have even made me see painful truths I was unwilling to admit to myself. How did you know all that?”
“Only an idiot would fail to see it,” Emerson grunted.
“Or a brother, blinded by fraternal affection,” I said, more charitably.
“Or,” said Emerson, fixing me with a hideous scowl, “an individual obsessed by master criminals.”
When we sought our couch in the desert, we did not go alone. To Emerson’s poorly concealed fury, Donald had insisted Enid occupy the other tent. “Now, of all times,” he had said, pressing the girl’s hand, “it is important that not the slightest shadow of reproach rest upon Enid.”
“Humph,” said Emerson.
I was against the idea myself, though not entirely for the same reason. Emerson’s analysis of the case had been cogent, as his analyses always were. That is not to say it was correct. I felt in my bones that my two young friends were entwined in the invisible strands of Sethos’ filthy web. My arguments had little effect, however. Donald supported Emerson (men always stick together), and Enid supported Donald. The only one who showed an ounce of sense was Ramses. His offer to stand guard outside Enid’s tent was unanimously rejected, but when he offered the cat in his stead, Enid laughed and said she would be delighted to have a nice cuddly kitty curl up with her.
I looked at the great brindled cat. Her topaz eyes had narrowed to slits and her lip curled, as if she were smiling contemptuously at the ludicrously inappropriate description. It seemed even more ludicrous when Ramses took her off into a corner, squatted down, facing her, and began mumbling at her. It was enough to make one’s blood run cold to see them staring into one another’s eyes, the cat quiet and intent, her head tilted and her tail twitching.
Whatever Ramses said had the desired effect. Bastet accompanied us when we left the house. Donald had declared his intention of escorting his beloved and seeing her safely to her tent. They followed at a discreet distance, whispering in the starlight. It was a perfect night for lovers—as indeed most nights in Egypt are—and I would have been content to walk in dreamy silence, with Emerson’s hand holding mine. However, Emerson was being stubborn.
“If they are determined to go to Cairo and give themselves up tomorrow, it is essential that some responsible person accompany them,” I insisted.
“Absolutely not, Peabody. We will be shorthanded as it is once they have gone—although she was never much use, and he is too distracted by her to carry out his duties. I