The Golden One - Elizabeth Peters [181]
“And get Lieutenant Chetwode in. I did wonder,” Ramses said deliberately, “whether the whole point of that operation was to convince the Turks of the genuineness of Ismail’s conversion.”
Under his steady gaze, Smith shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t trust any of us, do you? The only way that scheme could have succeeded was to have the Turks identify you and/or Chetwode as British agents. Believe it or not, we don’t risk our people so callously.”
“Not when they are as valuable as my son,” I said.
“Touché, Mrs. Emerson. You are correct, of course. Cartright’s group isn’t especially subtle; they wanted Ismail dead, and they were willing to hazard two men to accomplish it. To do them justice, none of them has the least idea of the difficulties involved in operating behind enemy lines; they still think of Johnny Turk as incompetent and cowardly.”
“But you knew,” I snapped. “And you let them send Ramses—”
“I had every confidence in his ability to get in and out undetected.”
“I’m flattered,” said Ramses, his lip curling.
“Easy for me to say, you mean? You have every right to feel that way. But the last I heard, Cartright had agreed to your proposal of a reconnaissance and nothing more. It never occurred to me that even Cartright would be stupid enough to go ahead with his little assassination attempt. And, naturally, I assumed you would come back with information that would prove Ismail wasn’t Sethos, even if you had to invent it. The last thing we wanted was to have you fall into the hands of the Turks—particularly those of Sahin. He’d been suspicious of Ismail from the start, and he hoped that Ismail would betray himself by trying to free you.”
Ramses’s tight lips relaxed into a faint smile. “He’s a clever man, but trying to stay one step ahead of Sethos is a hopeless job. Using the girl was brilliant.”
“If that hadn’t worked, he’d have got you out some other way,” Smith said brusquely. “Whatever it took.”
“He told you that?” I asked.
“He didn’t have to tell me. I know him rather well. So. Is there anything else you want to know?”
He had already said more than he had meant to say, and Ramses was looking decidedly uncomfortable. I rose. “Only your assurance that the young woman will be treated well.”
“We don’t war on women, Mrs. Emerson. She’ll be questioned courteously but intensively, and I expect we will get quite a lot out of her; she’s an inquisitive creature, I understand. I imagine she’ll enjoy being the center of attention.” After a moment he added, “I cannot insist that you refrain from mentioning her to Ml—or any of those other confusing numbers—but I assure you she will be happier with us than she would be with them.”
“They will find out eventually, won’t they? Her father knows she is with us.”
“If Sahin Pasha is as intelligent a man as I believe him to be, he will not volunteer any more information than is necessary to keep them from hanging him.” He added, with a rather attractive smile, “With any luck, he should be able to hold them off until the war is over.”
“May that day be soon in coming,” I said with a sigh.
“Amen,” said Mr. Smith.
“One more thing,” I said, drawing on my gloves.
“Yes, of course. He asked me to give you his regards and tell you he will ‘turn up,’ as he put it, before long.”
“Thank you.”
“Not at all.” He himself showed us to the door. “If there is ever anything I can do for you, or any member of your family—”
“The kindest thing you can do for us is leave us strictly alone.” I swept past him in my best style.
“All the same,” I said to Ramses, when we were again in the cab, “I don’t think as badly of him as I do of some of the others. Cartright lied to us. Chetwode did not act without his authorization, did he?”
“Chetwode is another military pedant; he wouldn’t dare act without orders. They don’t think of it as lying, you know. Expediency, necessity,