Lord of the Silent: A Novel of Suspense (29 page)

place. We need to come up with an explanation for my being here. Any ideas?" The force of his personality was strong as ever, even though he was flat on his back looking like death warmed over, but this time his attempt to distract them failed. "Have I your word you won't try to leave?" Nefret asked. "For what it's worth." His lips twisted. "Would a cup of coffee be asking too much?" "I'll see what I can do." Sethos's eyes followed her as she went to the door, her white gown falling in graceful folds. "Is there any chance of concealing my presence from your crew?" he asked. "Not likely. However-" The door opened again. Nefret thrust a bundle of clothes at Ramses. "You may as well get dressed too." "Bolt the door," Sethos suggested. "Unless you want an audience." "She got you here, all the way from the Tarif," Ramses said. He stood up, stamped his feet into his boots, and fastened his belt. "At considerable risk to herself and without anyone seeing you. Give the woman credit." "Never mind that. I presume you know that there are several unpleasant persons looking for me? You might put yourself and your wife in danger if I remain." "You can't leave now without being seen, unless you mean to swim across the river. I have an idea ..." Ramses waited until the women had joined them before he explained his plan. The coffee Nefret brought finished clearing his head and he flattered himself that he managed to produce a clear, lucid argument, despite his uncle's frequent attempts to interrupt. "We can't conceal indefinitely the fact that we have a guest. Misdirection is our only hope. They know Margaret ¦was with you last night. They know, or will learn, that she came here earlier in the evening, alone. Ashraf saw her leave; he will swear she did not return. If we can get her over to Luxor unobserved, no one will know where she was for the rest of the night. I'll have to take her across myself. She can borrow Nefret's tob and veil. It will be a bit tricky, but I think we can manage it if we get the crew out of the way." "If she has any sense, which I doubt, she'll refuse," Sethos drawled. "D'you suppose they won't want a chat with the last person known to be with me?" "She only has to walk from the dock to the hotel," Ramses said. "Once there, she stays-is that clear, Margaret? Don't set foot outside the hotel until you hear from us. And don't respond to any written messages." Margaret nodded brusquely. "As for you," Ramses went on, returning his gaze to his uncle, who stared back at him without blinking, "we met you at the Vandergelts' last night and brought you here when it was apparent you were coming down with malaria. You don't trust these 'native' hospitals and you refused to be examined by a male physician." Nefret let out a gurgle of laughter. She was always quick. Sethos wasn't far behind her. Ramses had expected-had, in fact, rather hoped for-an outraged protest. "A woman," he said flatly. "You'll tell the crew I'm-" "Cyrus's spinster sister. Very proper, very modest. First trip to Egypt. Hates everything about it." "Don't tell me how to play a role," Sethos grunted. There was a glint in his eyes that Ramses didn't like at all. "Control your histrionic urges," he said sharply. "No one will set eyes on you. Our steward wouldn't venture to intrude on a maiden lady." "But I ought to have a wig or a nightcap," Sethos insisted. "Just in case. And a flannel gown." Nefret's laughter shook her whole body. Margaret's face grew even grimmer. She got to her feet. "Is he feeling better?" she asked Nefret. "Obviously," Nefret gasped. One long step brought Margaret to the side of the bed. She raised her hand and brought it down with stinging force across Sethos's unshaven cheek. "That," she said, "is for making a fool of me in Hayil. And this-" He caught her hand before it connected a second time. Margaret called him a name that made Ramses blink. She was choking with rage. "For being a supercilious, ungrateful, selfish pig!" She pulled her hand free and flung herself out of the room. The door of the adjoining room slammed. "That's got rid of her anyhow," said Sethos. "Now-" "You are a pig," Nefret snapped. "The sentiment seems to be unanimous," Sethos said, meeting Ramses's hostile stare. "As I was about to say, your plan is admirable as far as it goes, but it doesn't go far enough." "I know. I'll take care of the rest tonight." "No," Sethos said. "I think I know what you have in mind, and it makes a certain amount of sense, but I'll see to it myself." "With a temperature of a hundred and three? By nightfall you'll be burning with fever or shaking with chills. There's just one little thing. Before I mount my fiery steed and ride out to challenge your enemies, I'd rather like to know who they are, and what they are after." His uncle's expression made his palms itch; he was in complete sympathy with Margaret's desire to slap that supercilious smile off his face. Sethos knew it was not concern for him that had prompted Ramses's plan. If word got out that they were harboring a stranger on the Amelia, someone might hear of Margaret's visit earlier that same evening and put two and two together. "The Master" must be seen and recognized after that visit, so that his enemies would not come looking for him here. "This hasn't anything to do with the Senussi or Sahin Bey or the damned Department, has it?" Ramses demanded. "It's the same old antiquities game. You let things slip for a time, and a new player has jumped in. Who?" "If I knew, don't you suppose I'd have dealt with him? You had better believe me, Ramses, reluctant though you may be to do so. I've been trying for weeks to identify the fellow. If he's an Egyptian, he's an unusual specimen, because he's utterly ruthless. He's killed at least three people. I don't want you to be the fourth. Amelia would take it badly." "You aren't going to evade the issue again," Ramses snapped. He sat down on the side of the bed and took his exasperating kinsman by the shoulders. "What's he after?" The muscles under his hands contracted in a series of shivers. "What?" Ramses demanded. "Queen Tiy's jewels?" "Sorry," Sethos muttered. "I'm feeling a bit . . .The jewels? There weren't any. That entertaining episode, and the rumors I spread about, were just my way of announcing my return." He closed his eyes. Ramses's hands tightened involuntarily. Sethos moaned. "Leave him alone, Ramses," Nefret said. She leaned over the bed. "I want you to take another dose of quinine. Then I'll get you a nice frilly nightcap and we'll let you sleep." Where she had obtained the cap Ramses could not imagine. He had never seen her wear it. It had pink bows and rows of lace ruffles. "Surely not even Mother wears those?" he asked. "It's what they call a boudoir cap," Nefret explained. "To cover one's untidy hair while one drinks one's morning tea, before one's maid attends to one's toilette. It came with the negligee-a set. I intended to give it to Sennia." "I'm going to kill him," Ramses said. "You can kill him after breakfast, darling. Go on up; I'll be along after I've had a word with Margaret." As he made his way up the stairs to the upper deck, Ramses considered his plan again. It had a number of weak spots, but he had been unable to think of anything better. Cyrus would have to be warned, and another lie concocted for him and Katherine; not even to Cyrus could they reveal the true identity of Nefret's patient. Ramses swore under his breath. Inventing wild fictions was more along his mother's lines than his-but he could only thank God she wasn't here, adding further complications to a situation that was already getting out of hand. He'd have to wait until afternoon, when the men were sleeping, to take Margaret across the river, and by one means or another force Sethos to divulge the secret he was determined to keep to himself, and ... And get rid of Jumana and Jamil. He had no sooner seated himself than they turned up. With another muttered oath he went to the rail. When she saw him Jumana began waving and calling out. She looked like an animated doll in Nefret's clothes. "Don't swear," Nefret said, joining him at the rail. "Was I? Tell them they won't be needed today, Nefret." "Eat your breakfast before it gets cold," Nefret said, and went back down the stairs. Nasir was standing at attention, a napkin over his arm as she had taught him, ready to serve the food, but Ramses stayed at the rail, watching as Nefret talked with Jumana. It was a task he ought to have tackled himself, instead of leaving it to her, but that infuriating conversation with Sethos had left him so angry he wasn't sure he could trust himself to behave normally. The loan of a few books satisfied Jumana. Jamil lingered, exchanging witticisms and boasts with Ashraf, before he followed his sister. Nefret came upstairs. She declined Nasir's offer to warm the food, told him they would wait on themselves, and began eating tepid eggs and soggy toast. "I'm sorry," Ramses said. "I ought to have sent them away myself instead of--" "Stop it." She looked up. Her eyes were blazing. "You're always sorry about the wrong things. What sort of idiotic stunt have you planned for tonight? If you're determined to go through with it, I'm going with you." "Someone has to stay with him." "Someone! Why is someone always me?" Her eyes were brimming with tears-probably of rage. "In this case-" "I know." She wiped her eyes. "But I insist on knowing where you are going and what you mean to do." "The obvious move is to go back to the house where he was staying and pretend to look for something he'd been forced to leave behind. I'll show myself to some of the villagers, indicate guilt and alarm, and beat a hasty retreat." "I thought that was it. Damnation, Ramses, what if some of the-the others are watching the place?" "I'll retreat even more hastily." It was a fairly feeble attempt at humor and Nefret was not amused. He took her hand in his. "I doubt they have the manpower to waste on surveillance, Nefret. But it would certainly help if I knew who they are and how many of them there are and what they want from him." Her unsmiling lips tightened. "I'll find out." "You'd take advantage of a sick man?" She pushed her chair back. "One more insouciant remark, Ramses Emerson, and you will be sorry. He was faking that attack. If it follows the usual pattern, it won't hit again until later this afternoon, and at this moment I wouldn't give a damn if he were about to breathe his last. Do you want to come with me?" "I wouldn't miss it for the world." Sethos was lying with his back to the door. When it opened he turned over. The ruffles framing his bristly face should have been mirth-provoking, but he carried it off as only Sethos could. "Now what?" he demanded. Nefret sat down beside him and began to speak softly. After only a few sentences Sethos threw up his hands. "I know better than to argue with a woman when she's in that frame of mind. You'd dismember me without hesitation if it would help him, wouldn't you?" "Yes." "Hmmm. There's nothing like devoted love to bring out the finest qualities in ... All right, all right. I was going to tell you anyhow." His eyes turned to Ramses. "So far as I know, there are only three of them in addition to their anonymous leader. One's a Syrian named Mubashir, who worked for me in Cairo in '08. He probably thinks he's still working for me. Short, stocky, scars on both cheeks ..." He gave brief descriptions of the other two, adding, "Mubashir's the most dangerous. One of the best men 'with a knife I've ever employed, and quick as a snake. You'll go armed?" "He will," Nefret said, before Ramses could answer. "Do you think they'll be waiting for you to come back?" "Not if they know my habits. One of the reasons for my long, successful career is that I never return to a place once it's known to the other side, even if it means abandoning useful items." He gave Ramses an insolent grin. "You made good use of the items I had to leave behind once before. You'll find that skill useful tonight, but don't be tempted to show off. It's a family failing. All you need do is make sure some of the villagers see and identify you. You're about my height and build. The green turban should dispel any doubts; I lost mine somewhere along the way, but you can probably come up with-" "He's doing it again," Ramses said to his wife. "Right. I am willing to believe," said Nefret, articulating with precision, "that you haven't learned the identity of the leader. Why haven't you questioned that man Mubashir?" "Go after Mubashir?" Sethos shuddered, or pretended to. "Thank you, no; I would rather my liver, lungs, and intestines remained intact. I wouldn't get anything useful out of him anyhow. If my wily opponent has the wits for which I give him credit, he'll be playing the game as I did, skulking about by night, keeping conversation to a minimum, and never letting any of them get a good look at him. You'd be surprised how effective that sort of childish playacting can be with people who-" "I don't want a lecture," Ramses said, trying to keep his voice level. "I want to know what started this game. What's the prize and where is it?" "It's rather a long story ..." "Quiet." Nefret raised her hand. "Is that Nasir calling us?" "Nasir can go to the devil," Ramses said. "I want answers, Sethos." "They can wait," Nefret said. "No, really, darling; he's going to ramble on and on until you hit him or / hit him, or Nasir comes bursting in here. The only thing that matters now . . ." She leaned over Sethos, her face so close to his that their noses were almost touching. "If anything-anything at all!-happens to Ramses tonight," she said in a voice as sweet as a chime of golden bells, "and it happens because you concealed information that might- might!-have made a difference ..." For a long second he stared as if mesmerized into her blue eyes. Then he swallowed, with difficulty, and turned his head away. "There's nothing. You have my word. For what it's worth." Nasir's hails were becoming peremptory. Ramses left Sethos to his wife's tender mercies; she looked like a ministering angel as she lifted his head and held a cup of water to his lips, her hair a halo of gold. He got past the door of their room before Nasir appeared, still shouting his name. So far they had managed to keep the staff in the dark about their visitor. The longer they could do so the better; the word would be all over the boat and then all over Luxor. So preoccupied was he that it took a little time for the import of Nasir's announcement to sink in. "Vandergelt Effendi?" he repeated hollowly. "Here?" Cyrus was waiting in the saloon, impeccably garbed in his favorite snowy linen, radiating good humor. He gave his disheveled host a long look, and his eyes twinkled. "Hope I'm not disturbing you. Figured you'd be up and about by now." "We were. We are." Ramses tried to smooth his hair and focus his brain. He still hadn't