Lion in the Valley - Elizabeth Peters [20]
“Seven A.M.”
“Seven,” Nemo repeated. “Until then, Professor.”
Disdaining my offer of a supporting hand, he rose and walked away without a backward glance.
We returned to our waiting carriage. Several other equipages were also waiting; the one Kalenischeff had driven was not among them. When our vehicle was underway, Emerson said, “Well, Peabody?”
“Well, Emerson?”
“I am awaiting your remarks concerning our new servant. I am surprised you have not expressed your opinion before this.”
“Why, really, Emerson, I consider this an excellent idea. I would have suggested it myself had you not anticipated me.”
“Oh, indeed,” said Emerson.
“We have an obligation,” I continued, “to assist unfortunate fellow creatures, particularly those of our own nation. I don’t doubt that the young man has met some crushing disappointment—in love, most probably—which has reduced him to his present plight. I hope you will not think me boastful if I assert that my advice and experience have often proved beneficial in such cases.”
“Bah,” said Emerson. “My motives are less altruistic, Amelia; I simply want someone to watch over Ramses while we are—while we are otherwise occupied. I know full well the futility of asking you not to attempt to reform the young man’s habits, but I beg you will not irritate him to such an extent that he quits our service. That is all I have to say on the subject, and there is no need for you to comment. Well, Ramses, you are unusually silent; what do you think?”
Ramses cleared his throat. “Thank you, Papa. I was waiting for someone to ask my opinion, for after all I am the one most immediately concerned. Aside from the fact that I do not feel myself in need of a nursemaid of either sex—”
“You were certainly in need of someone or something tonight,” I said critically. “How could you be so careless as to allow yourself to be abducted practically under our noses?”
Ramses opened his mouth to reply; Emerson, who knew his son’s tendency toward unnecessary loquacity as well as I did, replied for him. “From what I have been able to ascertain, from Ramses himself and from Abu, the thing was rather neatly done. It was not the guides originally assigned to Ramses who carried him off. Abu questioned these fellows after I reported that Ramses was missing, and they told him they had been dismissed by an American gentleman who said he was a member of our party. An extravagant amount of baksheesh removed any doubts they may have had, nor would they be inclined to question the command of an effendi.”
“But that is an astonishing development, Emerson,” I exclaimed. “I had assumed this was a simple, vulgar attempt at extracting money, or possibly a trick of Kalenischeff’s, to render us impotent while he carries out the nefarious scheme in which he is presently engaged—whatever that may be.”
“Neither is likely, Peabody. Kalenischeff knows better than to interfere with me.”
His white teeth closed on the last word as if he were biting into Kalenischeff’s jugular, and I was forced to admit that his reasoning was convincing.
“Then who could it have been? Who would have designs on Ramses, or on . . . Good Gad, Emerson!”
Emerson raised his hand. “Please, Peabody. Don’t say it.”
“Who else could it have been?” I cried. “Who else but that genius of crime, the Master Criminal?”
I see no sense in repeating the conversation that ensued. Emerson’s remarks were incoherent in the extreme, and he never allowed me to complete a sentence. I presume Ramses attempted to interject his opinions, since he usually did, but he made no headway. Emerson was still fuming when the carriage drew up before the hotel, and I abandoned the discussion, since it would have been vulgar to go on shouting at one another as we passed through the lobby.
The safragi on duty in the corridor outside our rooms informed us that a number of parcels had been delivered during our absence. Emerson nodded and flipped the fellow a coin. “It will be the merchandise I ordered this afternoon,” he said. “At least one