Tomb of the Golden Bird - Elizabeth Peters [98]
“Hell,” said Ramses. He took off his hat, threw it across the compartment, and ran distracted fingers through his hair.
The cat was out of the bag and the fat was in the fire, and short of gagging him there was no way of keeping Gargery from bragging about his heroic escape—or preventing Sennia from hearing him. He wasn’t as keen about admitting how he had been hoodwinked, but by dint of pointed questions (and, once the train was well underway, the application of whiskey and soda), we got a coherent account out of him.
He had been awakened (roused from deep thought, as he put it) by a messenger who handed him a note which read, “Meet us at the railway station.” At the suggestion of this helpful individual, he had informed the head waiter of his intention and followed the messenger out of the hotel, where a closed carriage was waiting. Considering that we had sent it for him (as was only his due), he felt no alarm until he found himself seated between two very sturdy strangers wearing masks. They fell upon him, and in a twinkling had him bound and gagged. The prick of a knife at his throat warned him to stop struggling—for, as he assured us, he had put up a valiant fight.
“Where did they take you?” I asked, when Gargery paused to refresh himself.
“Nowhere, madam.” Forgetting his manners for a moment, Gargery wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “We drove round and round for hours, madam. Every second I thought one of the bas—one of them would cut my throat, but I was not afraid, madam, I was only biding my time. Finally the carriage stopped…”
Gargery took another sip of whiskey and appeared to be thinking deeply.
“And then?” I prompted.
“And then…” Inspiration came to him. “I had worked my hands free, you see, madam. One of the chaps got out of the carriage, leaving the door open, and I—er—gave the second fellow a hard whack with my cane, untied my feet, and leaped out. It wouldn’t have done to stay and fight, madam, there were three of them, including the driver, and—and—and then I saw the railway station just ahead and ran as fast as I could till Mr. Ramses found me.”
This remarkable account left us speechless, except for Sennia, who threw her arms round Gargery and informed him that he was a hero.
“Yes, quite,” said Ramses. He had his voice under control, but not his eyebrows; they formed a black V over his narrowed orbs. “Gargery, why don’t you take Miss Sennia to the dining car? It must be almost time for first service. We will join you shortly.”
“I am a bit peckish,” Gargery admitted. “As you know, sir, combat has that effect.” With the assistance of his cane, he hauled himself to his feet and treated us to another glimpse of his expensive teeth.
“It is good to be back in Egypt, madam!”
David watched the pair reel off along the swaying corridor, and then closed the door. His lips were twitching.
“David, are you laughing?” I demanded.
“I can’t help it. The old rascal is enjoying this. He looks ten years younger.”
“He certainly has a gift for fantastic fiction,” I said sarcastically. “Can you visualize him immobilizing a thug with one blow of his cane? He hasn’t a muscle left in his body.”
“But he hasn’t lost the spirit of adventure,” Ramses said. He was smiling too, that rare, carefree smile that lit up his entire face. “He didn’t fight his way free, though. They let him go. After driving him around for—what?—two hours, they brought him to the station in time for the train, and walked away. They must have taken the note we left for him before he woke up.”
David sat down and took out his pipe. “They being the anonymous individuals who have been bothering you?”
“Yes, they have been a bit of a bother,” I said.
“Ramses gave me a quick outline of what you’ve been going through,” David said. “I’m not surprised to hear that Sethos is up to his old tricks, but I can’t believe he would invent such an outrageous story, or arrange even nonlethal attacks on any of you.”
“You have more confidence in his