O Jerusalem - Laurie R. King [38]
“Was he from this area?”
“Mikhail? No. Despite his Christian name, he was a Druse, from the hills above Haifa. However, he knew the whole of Palestine intimately. He was a dragoman before the war, especially popular with the English and German tourists, I understand.” He caught himself. “But Mahmoud knows this, and you do not need to. You’re not investigating a murder, Mr Holmes. You are not investigating anything, in fact. You are here in a strictly subordinate rôle. Is that understood?”
“I hear you,” said Holmes ambiguously, although Joshua did not seem to take it that way. He relaxed, and when he spoke next it was with an air of admission.
“When I heard you were coming, I thought Whitehall had lost their minds. A man older than most of the commanders here, with no military background, and a girl, neither of whom knows the land or the language as well as they ought. Frankly, I refused. And was ordered to give you a fair trial, after which I might send you home if I wanted. When Mahmoud here approved, I thought he had been out in the sun too long. In my experience, Mahmoud does not approve of many. But he said you would do, and here you are. Good to have you with us, Mr Holmes, Miss Russell. I wish you luck.” He began to pack away the tea paraphernalia.
Holmes ignored the fact that we were being dismissed. “I assume you have buried the body. What have you done with his possessions?”
“I have them.”
“I need to see them.”
“There is nothing of interest there.”
“Still.”
Joshua wavered on the edge of anger for a few moments; then, controlling himself, he shrugged.
“His pack is not here. I kept it at headquarters in Beersheva.”
“Shall I come there?”
“That would not be wise.” He sighed theatrically. “If you insist on seeing it, I shall have it sent over. You won’t remove anything?”
“Not without notifying you. We also need to know precisely where he was found.”
Again Joshua hesitated, but gave in more quickly this time. He squatted next to the map and showed Mahmoud the watercourse, asking him, “Do you know the place where the wadi turns, and there are three large boulders in a heap with a small tamarisk on the hill above them?” Mahmoud thought for a moment, and nodded. “Mikhail was found behind the westernmost boulder. His pack was about ten feet away.”
“He was killed by a revolver?” Holmes asked.
“If so, it was not his own. He carried a small gun; this one was larger, possibly even a rifle. The scavengers had been at him, though, so it was not possible to determine what damage the shot had done in the first place. The bullet was not in him.”
“I see. Well, let us have his possessions tonight, if you can. We shall let you know what we find.” Holmes rose and began to button his long sheepskin coat.
It was quite obvious that Joshua was not accustomed to being dismissed by his men, and he did not know whether to impose the might of military discipline on Holmes or to overlook his response. With a somewhat forced return of joviality he decided on the latter. Practically slapping our backs, he began to bundle us towards the door.
“You’ll let me know if there is anything you need,” he said, meaning he was quite certain we would not ask.
“Actually,” I said. He stopped, looking at me quizzically. My three robed companions stopped as well. “Another tent,” I suggested firmly.
“Another tent?” Joshua made it sound as if we had lost any number of them along our profligate way.
“Yes,” I said. “Please.”
“No,” said Ali. “It will look suspicious, three tents with so few people.”
“Either a third tent,” I said flatly, “or Holmes moves in with you.” A woman’s determination was not a thing with which any of these males (other than Holmes) had much experience. One by one their eyes dropped, and again Joshua shrugged.
“Very well. Another tent. It’ll be a small one.”
“So much the better.”
* * *
SIX
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Desert dwellers do not possess luxuries. They use tents of hair, or houses of wood or clay, unfurnished. They have