Night Train to Memphis - Elizabeth Peters [20]
‘Why, my dear, I’m surprised you haven’t heard of him, since his line of work is so closely related to yours.’
I inhaled involuntarily and burst into a fit of coughing. Jen slapped me on the back and went on, ‘He began in a modest way – a little shop in Truro – but his business has expanded at such a rapid rate that he has just opened an establishment in London. I am informed that he is regarded as one of the most reputable authorities in all of England.’
‘Don’t tell me,’ I wheezed. ‘Let me guess. Antiques?’
‘And works of art.’
‘Of course.’ Gasping for breath, I covered my face with my hands.
‘There’s plenty of this revolting stuff to go round,’ said John. ‘Would you care for a nip?’
I fumbled for a napkin and looked up. He stood over me, one eyebrow elevated, both lips curling.
‘Darling,’ Mary said reproachfully.
‘It’s all right. I just inhaled the wrong way.’ I wiped my eyes.
John handed his mother a bottle filled with a virulent pink liquid. ‘Here you go, old girl. Would you care to try one of my cigarettes, Dr – er – Bliss, isn’t it? Yours appear to be a trifle too strong.’
II
By the end of the evening I had managed to meet most of the other passengers. Jen had been guilty of unkind exaggeration when she described them as senile, but ‘elderly’ wouldn’t have been inaccurate; the majority of them had to be at least seventy.
One of the exceptions was Suzi Umphenour, the bleached blonde from Memphis (Tennessee). I hadn’t expected to like her, but I did, perhaps because she cheerfully admitted that she had joined the cruise only because it was hideously expensive and very exclusive. ‘All my friends in Memphis were green with envy,’ she had declared with naive satisfaction.
‘Then you aren’t interested in Egyptology?’
She emitted a fat chuckle and grinned, displaying an expanse of expensively capped teeth. ‘I’m interested in men, honey. Young men. All my husbands were old and boring. I figure now I’m entitled to a little fun. There aren’t as many cute guys on this trip as I’d hoped, but some of the Egyptian boys are kind of sweet, don’t you think?’
I agreed that they were, and left Suzi closing in on Feisal.
By the time I got back to my room I was tired enough to die, but I knew I was too uptight to sleep, so I went out onto the balcony. The lights of the city glowed like jewels against the dark – diamond white, ruby and emerald and sapphire. The night breeze was cool, and if it was polluted – there was no ‘if’ about it, in fact – I didn’t notice.
The worst was over, I told myself. I hadn’t lost my temper or my dignity, and there was no danger of my doing so now – not when I had him dead to rights, under my thumb and in my power.
I had replaced the tiny tape reel in my gold locket, but the old tape was still on the table. It was supposed to be in the little safe under the dressing table.
Every suite had such a safe – not an ordinary lockbox, but specially designed safe with a specially designed key that could not be reproduced by an ordinary locksmith. I’d heard of luxury hotels that provided such a service, but never a cruise ship. However, this was a special ship in every way, and people who were rich enough to take the cruise probably expected such amenities.
We had been warned that if we lost the key the safe would have to be drilled open, at our expense, since there was only one. In my case that wasn’t true. At least one other person had a key to mine. I was supposed to leave messages in it and he – she – it? – would communicate with me in the same way.
Nobody would be entering my room that night The door was equipped with enough hardware to stop a tank. People were nervous about travelling in Egypt, and this was only one of many additional security precautions our management had provided. My mysterious ally wouldn’t open the safe until after I had left the room the following morning. I could leave the tape anytime before then.
There was nothing on that tape that could be of use to Burckhardt