The Snake, the Crocodile, and the Dog - Elizabeth Peters [95]
“Why do you feel it necessary to hide your face from me?” I asked, seating myself in the chair next to hers.
“It is not a pretty sight.”
“Still? The swelling should have gone down by now. Let me have a look.”
“I do not need your medicine, Sitt Hakim. Only time—if you will allow me that.”
“For your face to heal, yes. For other things—no. Not while the life of the Father of Curses is still in danger.”
“And yours, Sitt Hakim.” There was a strange note in her voice, as if she smiled as she spoke.
“Yes, I suppose so. Bertha”—I still stumbled over that inappropriate name—“we have left you in peace, to rest and recover your health. Now it is time for you to prove yourself. Mr. Vandergelt believes you were sent here to spy on us.”
“I swear to you—”
“My dear girl, you are not speaking to some gullible man, but to another woman. I have excellent reasons, unknown to Mr. Vandergelt, for believing in your good intentions; but for your own sake as well as ours you must give me more active assistance.”
“What do you want, then? I have told you all I know.”
“You have told me nothing. I want dates, names, addresses, facts. We have learned—no thanks to you!—the identity of the man who was your master and your tormentor. Do you know him by his true name of Vincey, or only as Schlange, the name he used in Luxor? Were you in Cairo with him? When did he leave for Luxor? Where did he go after he was driven from the villa? Where is he now?”
I had brought pencil and notepaper. From the way she responded to my questions, I had the impression she was no stranger to official interrogation, but she answered me readily enough. Those answers confirmed what I already suspected, but were of little use in planning future strategy.
“Does a hammer driving nails into a piece of wood know the plan of the house?” she asked bitterly. “I was not good enough to share his apartment in Cairo. He called himself Schlange there too, I know him by no other name. He came to my house when he wanted … In Luxor I lived at the villa, it is true. No one knew him there, his reputation was not damaged by my presence, and he needed me to help him break the Father of Curses. After I left you that night I went to my room; I was packing my clothes when he came, and forced me to go with him. I had to leave everything, my jewelry, my money! We stayed for a week in a cheap hotel in Luxor; when he left it, which was seldom, he locked me in the room. I could not go out, I had nothing to wear but the clothes that were like yours, and I dared not appear in them on the streets of Luxor.”
“A week, you said. But your bruises were fresh when you came to us. He did not abuse you at first?”
The veil quivered, as if her lips writhed under it. “No more than usual. He was waiting, I think, to see whether the Professor would recover, and to learn what you meant to do next. One day, when he returned, he brought the robe you saw me wearing and told me to put it on. We would go that night—”
“Where?”
“Does a man who carries a piece of luggage inform it of its destination? He was very angry. He had learned something— no, don’t ask me what, how would I know?—something that drove him wild. He uttered only vile curses and threats, and complaints about those who had failed him. They, whoever they may have been, were not there. I was there. So…”
“Yes, I see.” The news that had driven Vincey to violence must have been the failure of his people in England to kidnap Ramses and Nefret. Ramses’s letter had reached me at about that time. “How did you get away from him?” I asked.
“He slept heavily that night,” she said. “And the garments he had brought were the very disguise I would have chosen. Veiled and in black I looked like any woman of Luxor. He thought I would never have the will or the courage to leave him, but fear, when it reaches a certain point, can inspire courage. I knew that night what I had been unwilling to admit before: that one day he would kill me, out of rage or suspicion of betrayal.”
She had spoken with a passion and seeming candor that could not fail