Lord of the Silent - Elizabeth Peters [122]
“Oh, be quiet,” Emerson said in disgust. He turned to me and spoke in English. “I know his kind. He is a petty criminal, who will turn his hand to any job that does not require great courage or intelligence. What surprises me is that he had the intestinal fortitude to take on this job. He knew who the victim was; he knows who we are; he knew her relationship to us.”
“He may have been promised a large sum of money.”
“It would have to be a very large sum,” said Emerson, with unconscious—and justifiable—egotism. “No. There is something he has not told us. Look at the miserable creature.”
Sweat was pouring down the man’s face, which had turned a peculiar shade of muddy gray. His hand had gone to his throat, and I saw that he was fingering an amulet of some sort.
“That won’t help you,” said Emerson. “Do you think God listens to the prayers of sinners and liars and tormentors of little children? You know who hired Saleh. If you do not speak . . .” He paused for effect. Mohammed’s teeth began to chatter. “If you do not tell us the truth, the Sitt Hakim will fetch her parasol.”
The fellow’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he slumped over in a faint. “Now you’ve done it, Emerson,” I remarked.
“I hope so,” said Emerson. “Hassan, give him some water.”
I had Daoud to thank for the legends that surrounded my parasol. He was a fine raconteur, and the tales he had told about us had spread throughout the length of Egypt. I had never been sure how much he believed in the magical powers of the parasol, but he had certainly managed to convince a number of other people. We revived Mohammed and found him pitiably willing to confess, but he was in such a state of terror, Emerson had to shake him a few times before he could speak intelligibly.
Only one thing could have persuaded him to brave the wrath of the Father of Curses and the terrible parasol of the Sitt Hakim. It was not money. It was the knowledge that the act had been ordered by a man he feared even more—and the hope of becoming one of his trusted men. I think I knew what he was going to say even before Emerson shook it out of him. “The Master. It was the Master! Who dares refuse his commands?”
My fertile pen falters when I attempt to describe the impact of Mohammed’s statement. He would not have dared to lie. He was telling the truth—as he believed. Even Emerson was momentarily struck dumb.
Recovering, I said, “The Master is dead.”
Mohammed looked like a cornered rat, terror and cunning mingled on his sweating face. “So they said of him once before. But he was not dead, Sitt, or else he came back from Gehenna, where the very afreets cower before him, and he punished those who had been disloyal. I have not seen him, but Saleh has. He gave Saleh money. He will give him more tonight, when he knows his orders have been carried out.”
“Tonight,” Emerson repeated, in a voice like the rumble of thunder.
“Obviously someone has used his name, Emerson,” I exclaimed.
“Obviously.” Visibly troubled, Emerson fingered the cleft in his chin. “Since none of his hirelings knew what he really looked like, it would not be difficult to convince them that he had returned. He has as many personalities as hairs on his head.”
We had spoken in English, but Mohammed understood enough to give him new hope. “You believe me, Father of Curses! I can tell you no more. Let me go and I swear I will never again—”
“Shall we turn him over to Mr. Russell?” I asked.
“No, what purpose would that serve? Russell couldn’t get any more out of him than we have. I want him here, at my disposal. I cannot think how he could be of further use to us, but one never knows.”
Mohammed’s howls of woe followed us as we went back to the house. I had instructed Hassan to get him food and water and make him as comfortable as circumstances allowed. He was a contemptible creature, but one must live up to one’s standards.
We planned our expedition with care, confiding only in Selim. Though I did not suppose we would require his help, it would have been cruel to refuse his demand that he be allowed to