Read Online Lion in the Valley by Elizabeth Peters - Free Book Online

my boy. Er—Papa will attend to it, whatever it is."
    "Yes,
Papa. But if I were to hear you or Mama cry out for help—"
    This
innocent question made Emerson blush like a schoolboy. I was amused but not
inclined to intervene; as the Scripture so eloquently puts it, he had dug a pit
into the midst whereof he had fallen; and it was up to him to climb out of it.
    "Papa
will explain," I said. "I must just step out for a moment. There is a
matter I must attend to."
    The
flush on Emerson's bronzed cheeks turned from the scarlet of embarrassment to
the crimson of rising suspicion. "What matter?" he demanded.
    "I
will be back shortly."
    "Peabody,
I absolutely forbid..." My expression warned Emerson of the error of this
approach. "I request that you refrain from interfering in matters
that are none of your concern. The hour is late. You cannot wake people up in
the middle of the night to lecture them about their personal affairs."
    "I
had intended to speak to Miss Debenham on the morrow, Emerson. It was your
decision to leave Cairo at once—made, I might add, without the courtesy of
consulting me—that forced this expedient upon me."
    I
slipped out before he could reply.
    The
safragi outside Miss Debenham's suite informed me that she had not
yet returned, so I went downstairs to search for her in the lobby and on the
terrace. It was not so late as I had supposed; our evening had been so fraught
with interesting incidents that it seemed to have lasted longer than was
actually the case. The terrace was crowded with guests sipping refreshments and
watching the jugglers and snake charmers performing on the street, but Miss
Debenham was not among them. I thought I saw a flutter of saffron cloth among
the entertainers, but when I looked over the rail, there was no sign of the
renegade Englishman. I concluded that my eyes had deceived me. Saffron turbans,
though uncommon, were not unique to that individual.
    It
was with a sense of deep frustration that I finally decided to abandon my quest
for the time being. There was no way of knowing when the pair would return, or
if indeed they would return that night. Kalenischeff had once told me in the
course of that rude encounter I mentioned earlier, that he had a pied-a-terre
in Cairo. He might have taken the girl there.
    This
thought made me all the more determined to warn Miss Debenham of the moral and
spiritual dangers that threatened her. I was equally determined to have a quiet
talk with Kalenischeff. I felt certain that the proper mixture of persuasion
and intimidation would convince him to confide in me, and the events of the
evening made it imperative that I learn all I could about the mysterious
individual who was Kalenischeff's employer. I had left Egypt the previous year
with the firm determination of bringing this miscreant to justice. His attempt
to abduct Ramses proved beyond a doubt that he was equally determined to
revenge himself on me and my family. It was no longer only a question of
justice; it was a question of self-defense. Why Emerson failed to see this I
could not imagine.
    I
proceeded to the writing room, where I inscribed two letters. The first, to
Kalenischeff, was brief. I merely requested the pleasure of an interview at the
earliest possible moment, adding that it would be useless for him to deny my
request since I was determined to see him. The letter to Miss Debenham took
longer, since I had to identify myself and list my qualifications for presuming
to address her. I added a brief account of Kalenischeff's unsavory history, assured
Miss Debenham of my (and Emerson's) willingness to assist her, and ended with a
powerful and moving appeal to reconsider her actions and halt her downward
progress on the path that could only lead to shame and sorrow.
    After
leaving the letters with the safragis, I sought my own room with a satisfying
sense of duty done. I had accomplished all I could; I could accomplish no more.