Night Train to Memphis - Elizabeth Peters [76]
I swallowed the loathsome morsel with a loud gulping sound. Schmidt looked at me in alarm. ‘Was ist’s? Are you going to be sick? You cannot be sick now, we have much – ’
‘I’m not sick, dammit! Stop fussing, Schmidt. Let’s go and pack.’
My elegantly appointed room and pretty little balcony had never looked more appealing. So much for that luxury tour I’d been promised; I’d never had the chance to enjoy it. Mother had always told me that if an offer seemed too good to be true it probably was.
The prospect of being Larry’s house guest offered some consolation. (It would certainly impress my mother.) I’d seen photographs of his Luxor establishment in some magazine; it wasn’t just a house, it was a whole estate, with beautiful gardens and a swimming pool and all the other odds and ends rich people consider necessary to happiness.
And I would be far far away from John and his pregnant bride.
I am not a neat packer, and my mood that day was not conducive to order and method; I tossed things at random into the bags and put them by the door. After a final check of closets and drawers to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything, I opened the safe.
The reels of tape were gone.
I was squatting in front of the safe, fumbling in its interior in the hope of finding something – a gun, a message, a box of chocolates, anything to indicate interest – when the telephone rang. I snatched it up and yelled, ‘What do you want, Schmidt?’
‘I’m afraid it’s only me,’ an apologetic voice murmured.
‘Larry?’
‘Yes. You are going to accept my invitation, I hope. I intended to repeat it in person, but you left the dining room before I could speak to you.’
He had meant it, then. A little quiver ran through me, a mixture of pleasure, relief, and renewed alarm. The situation must be serious if he was anxious to get me to a safe place without delay. ‘It’s very kind of you. Are you sure?’
‘I’m sure it’s the best possible place for you.’
He didn’t have to spell it out. ‘All right,’ I said. ‘Thank you. What about Schmidt?’
‘I’ve already spoken to him. He said he’d come if you did. So it’s settled. We’ll meet in the lobby in, say, half an hour?’
There was no point in hanging around my room, so I headed for the lounge. I expected to find Schmidt there, since Hamid had announced the bar would be open – a final farewell to the Queen of the Nile, for those who chose to take advantage of it. Schmidt hadn’t chosen, but several of the others had, including Alice and Feisal, who were engaged in earnest conversation. I joined them.
‘So what’s going to happen to you guys?’ I asked.
‘All friends must part at last,’ said Feisal with a theatrical sigh. ‘We part sooner than I had hoped; but not for a few more days. I will remain with the tour here in Luxor.’
‘And after that?’
His smile was dazzling. ‘Something good, for me at least. I’m not at liberty to discuss it just yet. Are you coming with me to the Luxor Temple this afternoon?’
I shook my head. Feisal gave me one of those patronizing masculine looks. ‘Primping for the reception instead? I will see you later at the hotel, then.’
He glanced at his watch and stood up.
‘I won’t be at the hotel. Larry has asked me to stay with him.’
Alice gave me a startled look and then laughed. ‘Congratulations. You’re the first single woman to be so honoured in years.’
‘He’ll be adequately chaperoned,’ I said. ‘Schmidt is coming too.’
Feisal grinned. He was in a good mood, all right. ‘He is not the marrying kind, as you say. And he is too old for you. You haven’t forgotten you promised to let me show you the night life of Luxor?’
‘I’d like that. Thanks, Feisal.’
‘Till this evening, then.’ He went off, collecting Suzi as he passed her table. I heard her shrill voice raised in pretended protest as he led her out.
‘Are you really staying with Larry?’ Alice didn’t wait for me to answer. Thoughtfully she went on, ‘You’ll be all right, then. That compound of his could withstand a siege.