The Ape Who Guards the Balance - Elizabeth Peters [84]
Nefret nodded. “Split-second timing and long arms and the devil’s own luck. That’s when he cracked that rib.”
“It is not cracked,” Ramses said indignantly. “Only bruised. And the damned sticking plaster itches like fury. I don’t know which is worse, you or—”
“He tried to carry me,” David said, his voice unsteady. “I couldn’t walk, I was too stiff. He could have left me and gone for help, but—”
“But I didn’t have sense enough to think of it,” said Ramses. “Do you mind shutting up, David?”
“It won’t do, Ramses,” Nefret said. The color rushed into her face and she jumped up. “You’ve left out everything of importance. Curse it, don’t you understand that we cannot deal effectively with this situation until we have all the facts? Any detail, no matter how small, may be important.”
Emerson, who had listened in silence, cleared his throat. “Quite right. Ramses, my boy—”
Nefret whirled round and shook her finger in his astonished face. “That applies to you too, Professor—and you, Aunt Amelia. What happened tonight might have been prevented if you had not kept certain matters from us.”
“Nefret,” Ramses said. “Don’t.”
My poor dear Emerson looked like a man who has been clawed by his pet kitten. With a little cry of self-reproach Nefret flung herself onto his lap and put her arms round his neck.
“I didn’t mean it. Forgive me!”
“My dear, the reproach was not undeserved. No, don’t get up; I rather like having you there.”
He enclosed her in his arms and she hid her face against his broad shoulder, and we all tactfully pretended not to see the sobs that shook her slim body. I had expected she would give way before long. Her temperament is quite unlike my own. She performs as coolly and efficiently in an emergency as I could do, but once the emergency is over, her tempestuous and loving nature seeks an outlet for the emotions she has repressed. So I let her cry for a bit in Emerson’s fatherly embrace, and then suggested that some of us ought to retire to our beds.
Nefret sat up. The only evidences of tears were her wet lashes and a damp patch on Emerson’s shirt. “Not until we have finished. Ramses, tell it again, from the beginning, and this time don’t leave anything out.”
We had to wring some of it out of him. Perched on Emerson’s knee, with his arm around her, Nefret exhibited such skill at interrogation I was not forced to intervene.
“I am not surprised that Layla should be involved in a criminal activity,” I said. “Apparently her services are for sale to anyone who can meet her price.”
“Criminal activities,” said my son, “enabled her to escape from a life of misery and degradation. Can one who has never been forced to make such a choice condemn hers?”
“Good gracious, how pompous you sound,” I said. “I must admit the justice of your remark, however; women have a difficult enough time in this man’s world, and moral scruples are luxuries some of them cannot afford.”
“In this case,” said Nefret, her voice smooth as honey, “Layla’s moral scruples were stronger than greed. Or was there another reason why she took the risk of freeing you?”
Ramses looked quickly at her and as quickly returned his gaze to his feet, at which he had been staring most of the time. “Several reasons, I think. Even a woman devoid of ordinary moral scruples may balk at murder. Father—and Mother too, of course—have formidable reputations; had we come to harm, they would have exacted retribution.