The Ape Who Guards the Balance - Elizabeth Peters [17]
Emerson held out his hand.
“Really, Emerson,” I exclaimed. “I am deeply hurt and offended that you should doubt my word. The letter is on the desk in my sitting room, but if you want to see it you can just fetch it yourself.”
“You are taking the carriage, then?”
“Yes. Bob will drive me. Why the interrogation, Emerson? Are you having premonitions?”
“I never have premonitions,” Emerson growled. “All right, Peabody. Behave yourself and try not to get in trouble.”
Having mentioned errands, I felt I must perform a few, since I never lie to Emerson unless it is absolutely necessary. They took some little time, and the early dusk was falling when I directed Bob to take me to Clement’s Inn, where the Pankhursts had taken lodgings.
Fleet Street was filled with omnibuses, carriages, vans and cycles, each vehicle looking for a break in the traffic. Motorcars darted ahead of all rivals whenever opportunity served, the roaring of their engines adding to the din. Our progress was slow. When one particular delay prolonged itself, I looked out of the window and saw a positive tangle of vehicles ahead. The core of the obstruction appeared to be a coster’s barrow and a hansom cab, whose wheels had become entangled. The owners of both were screaming insults at one another, other drivers added their comments, and from somewhere behind us the impatient operator of a motorcar sounded a series of frantic blasts on his horn.
I called to Bob. “I will walk from here. It is only a few hundred yards.”
Opening the door—with some difficulty, since a railway delivery van had pulled up close on that side—I started to get out.
My foot never touched the pavement. I had only a flashing glimpse of a hard, unshaven face close to mine before I was passed like an unwieldy parcel from the grasp of the first man into the even more painful grip of a second individual. Initially I was too astonished to defend myself effectively. Then I saw, behind the second man, something that informed me there was no time to lose. The back doors of the van were open, and it was that dark orifice toward which I was being carried.
The situation did not look promising. I had dropped my parasol, and my cries were drowned by the incessant hooting of the motorcar. As the fellow attempted to thrust me into the interior of the van, I managed to catch hold of the door with one hand. A hard blow on my forearm loosened my grip and wrung a cry of pain from my lips. With a violent oath the villain gave me a shove and I fell, striking the back of my head rather heavily. Half in and half out of the van, giddy and breathless, blinded by the hat that had been tipped over my eyes, I gathered my strength for what I knew must be my final act of resistance. When hands seized my shoulders I kicked out as hard as I could.
“Damnation!” said a familiar voice.
I sat up and pushed the hat away from my eyes. The darkness was almost complete, but the streetlights had come on, and the powerful lamps of a motorcar silhouetted a form I knew as well as I had known that beloved voice.
“Oh, Emerson, is it you? Did I injure you?”
“Disaster was avoided by a matter of inches,” said my husband gravely.
He pulled me out of the van and crushed me painfully to him, completing the destruction of my second-best hat.
“Is she all right?” The agitated voice was that of David, perched atop a cart that had drawn up behind us. Ignoring the curses of the driver he jumped down, accompanied by a rain of cabbages, and hastened to Emerson’s side. “Professor, hadn’t we better get her away at once? There may be more of them.”
“No such luck,” Emerson grunted. Scooping me up into his arms he bent over and peered under the van. “They’ve got clean away, curse them. I should have hit that bastard harder. It is your fault, Peabody; if you had not winded me with that kick in the—”
“Radcliffe!” Though the voice was distorted by emotion and want of breath, I knew the speaker had to be Walter; no one else employs Emerson’s detested first name.
“Yes, yes.” Tightening his grasp, as if he feared I would