Tomb of the Golden Bird - Elizabeth Peters [157]
“Fatima shouldn’t have worried you,” said David, who was being embraced in his turn.
“Someone else would have told her if Fatima hadn’t done so,” I said. “As you see, Sennia, everything has turned out all right.”
Before we gathered for our council of war I remembered another duty I had overlooked. I penned a brief note to Cyrus, informing him of Margaret’s safe return. I then invited everyone to join me in the parlor, where Kareem had placed chairs facing the large table I intended to use as a desk. Seating myself behind it, I arranged my papers and opened the meeting.
For the benefit of Selim and Daoud, who had not been present, I first described the results of our search of the house.
“I had hoped the miscreants might have overlooked something that would give us a clue as to their present whereabouts,” I went on. “Unfortunately these few scraps were all that remained, and they contain no helpful information.
“We are somewhat further along, however. We know the nature of the conspiracy—to overthrow King Feisal and end the British—”
David committed the unusual discourtesy of interrupting me. Eyes widening, he exclaimed, “Feisal? It is Fuad who will be forced to abdicate. Zaghlul will be made—”
“What?” I cried. “That is not—”
“I knew someone was lying,” Emerson growled. “By heaven—”
“Not me!” Sethos exclaimed. “I swear by—”
“Stop!” I said, raising my voice to be heard over the general outcry. “All of you, be quiet. Someone has certainly misled us, but let us not jump to conclusions. It might have been David’s informants.”
“Why would Bashir lie to me?” David demanded. “He doesn’t give a fig for Iraq or Feisal; he is dedicated to the cause of Egyptian nationalism.”
“He’s a damn fool if he believes he can carry out such a scheme,” Sethos said vehemently.
“He’s right,” Margaret said.
She was the last person I would have expected to come to his defense. Sethos looked at her in open-mouthed surprise. Coloring slightly, she went on, “It is much more likely that the target is Iraq. The political situation there is unstable, and the stakes are higher. Oil is a valuable commodity.”
“Thank you,” Sethos said, recovering. “I admit that I haven’t an unblemished reputation for veracity, but Margaret has, with her customary acuity, lent support to my story. What have I to gain by lying?”
“I can’t think of anything offhand,” I admitted.
“That doesn’t prove a damned thing,” said Emerson, with a critical look at his brother. “His reasons often pass the bounds of logical ratiocination. However…innocent until proven guilty.”
I consulted my list and then flung it down. “Good Gad,” I said. “Instead of being further along, we are in even deeper confusion. The only positive thing to come out of this is that our adversaries have not broken their word. Margaret’s abduction was not arranged by them, and Ramses and David—er—”
“Got what they deserved,” said Ramses. “Rushing in where angels fear to tread. I don’t know that we can count on their forbearance henceforth, however.”
“A point to be considered,” I agreed. “It would be helpful if we could be certain who ‘they’ are.”
We stared at one another with a wild surmise, as Cortez had done on a peak in Darién. But these were wilder waters than the broad Pacific.
“Perhaps,” said Daoud hesitantly, “there are many of them.”
“Good for you, Daoud,” said Sethos. “I wouldn’t for a moment doubt David’s word, but that group can’t have anything to do with my lot or I would have been told about it.”
“Two separate conspiracies?” Ramses demanded. “That’s a bit much, even for us.”
“Let us go on that assumption, to begin with.” I took out a blank sheet of paper and headed it “Things to Be Done.”
“Bashir,” I said. “He is the only one whose name is known. We must hunt him down.”
“I don’t believe he’s dangerous,” Ramses said. “He was always an ineffectual sort of fellow, a follower rather than a leader. His lads didn’t even fire at us. All the same, I suppose the authorities should be warned about him.”
“Sir Thomas Russell is the man,” I said, writing. “We