The Mummy Case - Elizabeth Peters [132]
“No, Peabody, I did not.”
“But I was not altogether wrong,” I continued. “The person I suspected of being the Master Criminal is the murderer. It is a meaningless distinction, actually.”
“Curse it, Peabody, you never give up, do you? Hurry with your bath, then, and we will go to the mission and apprehend Brother David.”
“Brother Ezekiel,” I said, and left the room before Emerson could reply.
Twelve
The sun was well above the horizon before we were ready to set forth on our errand of justice and—I hoped—mercy. The morning air was clear and fresh; the eastern sky flaunted the exquisite golden glow of a desert sunrise. Yet we walked with dragging steps, oblivious for once to the marvels of nature. I did not anticipate danger, but the interview promised to be a painful one, and I was filled with apprehension for poor John.
He had gone to the mission, of course. I could not blame him for disobeying my express command; when we failed to return he must have feared for us as well as for his beloved. Since I had not told him where we were to meet the girl, he would search for her in the most obvious place.
Arriving, he had found…what? What scene of horror or massacre had met his astonished eyes, and made it necessary for the killer to add another crime to his list? That John had failed to return made it certain he had been prevented from returning; but was it murder or kidnapping that had prevented him? Whatever had happened had happened hours before. If John was no more, we could only avenge him. If he was held prisoner, we would be in time to save him.
One of my first acts, even before bathing and changing into fresh attire, had been to dispatch a message to de Morgan. I mentioned this to Emerson, hoping to cheer him, for his expression as he tramped along was gloomy in the extreme.
He only grunted. “De Morgan has no evidence on which to arrest Kalenischeff, Peabody. Even if the rascal has stolen antiquities, he is under the protection of the baroness. It would take a direct order from Cromer to interfere with such a distinguished visitor.”
“Kalenischeff must be one of the gang, Emerson. It is too much of a coincidence that he should be leaving Dahshoor at the same time as the Master Criminal.”
“Oh, I agree. His job was to act as spotter. If de Morgan found anything of interest, Kalenischeff would notify his leader. But we will never prove it, Peabody, nor even convince de Morgan that he was taken in.”
“It appears that this is one of those cases where everyone is guilty,” I said.
“You exaggerate, Peabody. The baroness was duped; de Morgan is innocent of everything except congenital stupidity; and of the three at the mission, only one is guilty.”
“Ah, do you think so? What about two out of three?”
The challenge roused Emerson from his depression. “Which two—or which one?”
“I did not say two were guilty. I only present it as a possibility.”
“Are you sticking to your guns, then? Ezekiel?”
“Er—yes.”
“It was at Brother David that Bastet spat, Peabody.”
I was sorry he had noticed that. I had had some difficulty fitting it into my theory and had finally decided to ignore it altogether. “The incident was meaningless, Emerson. Bastet was in a bad mood—”
“And why was she in a bad mood, Peabody? Her keen sense of smell had recognized the spoor of the man who had been in Abd el Atti’s shop—”
“You are becoming as fanciful as Ramses where that cat is concerned, Emerson. Oh, I don’t doubt that was what the child intended when he returned to the shop and found out that Abd el Atti had been murdered; he is only a little boy, and does not understand that animals can’t be trained to do what he wants. But if you are naive enough to suppose that Bastet tracked the murderer through the extensive and odorous byways of Cairo and that, many days thereafter, recalled the scent of the individual who threw a boot or some other missile at her—”
“Humph,” said Emerson.
It did sound absurd, when put into words. But I wondered. Brother David had not been the only stranger present that day.
The village ought