The Ape Who Guards the Balance - Elizabeth Peters [133]
Our visit with Abdullah was an unqualified success all round. The house was decorated as if for a wedding, with flowers and palm branches, and Kadija had prepared enough food for twenty people. Lia ate of every dish and tried to sit cross-legged like Nefret. Her attempts to talk Arabic brought a smile even to Abdullah’s dignified face. She treated the dear old fellow with an anxious deference that was very engaging. She was not at all self-conscious about mispronunciations and bad grammar, and managed to make her meaning understood.
As she had done with Daoud, I thought, glancing at that individual’s beaming face. He had a heart as large as his body, and now he had found someone else to love.
After we had finished, the men went outside to fahddle, so that we could spend a little time with Kadija. She said very little—apparently Nefret was the only one to whom she told her jokes!—but it was evident that she too had enjoyed the visit.
We stopped on the way home to see a few of the nobles’ tombs. Lia would have gone on indefinitely, but I thought Evelyn looked tired, so I reminded the others that we were to dine with Cyrus and Katherine that evening.
“Quite a full day,” said Emerson, drawing me apart.
“In every sense of the word.” I patted my stomach. “I doubt I will be able to eat a thing tonight. But the child is enjoying herself. What a pity she must leave so soon. Is it really necessary, Emerson?”
“Better safe than sorry, Peabody.” He smiled at me. “I can quote aphorisms too, you see.”
“What did Abdullah tell you?”
“Curse it, Peabody, I hate it when you read my mind that way.”
“It is your face I read, my dear. I know every lineament of it. And yours is not a countenance that lends itself to deception.”
“Hmph,” said Emerson. “Well, I intended to tell you anyhow. The body has been officially identified, thanks to Ramses’s insistence that the police question the—er—proprietress of the house. They would not have bothered if he had not demanded it, and she would not have come forward of her own accord.”
“It was the girl Nefret meant?”
“Impossible to determine, Peabody. There were several of a—a young age.”
His steed snorted and I saw that his hands were clenched on the reins. “Sorry,” said Emerson—to the horse. To me he said, “The only way of being certain would be for Nefret to inspect the girls.”
“Out of the question, Emerson!”
“I quite agree, my dear. There is at least a strong suspicion that it was the same girl. Was she murdered because she was trying to escape that hellish den, or because she knew something about Layla, or—for some other reason?”
“We will find out, Emerson.”
“Yes, my dear Peabody, we will.”
It was a vow, and I knew he would keep it. I also knew I would have to watch him closely once the younger Emersons had departed. My dear Emerson is inclined to be reckless when his emotions are aroused.
The Vandergelts had hoped to give a large reception in honor of our visitors, but in view of the brevity of their stay the party that evening was small—only Sir Edward and Howard Carter in addition to ourselves. The others had heard of the latest murder, for news, especially grisly news, spreads quickly, but the topic was