Read Online The Golden One by Elizabeth Peters - Free Book Online

but I had only voiced aloud what was in all our minds.
    ‘There’s been no further word from him?’ Nefret asked. I shook my head.
    ‘If Ramses gets in trouble because of him, I’ll murder him,’ she muttered.
    She did not go to the hospital that morning. She did not want to leave the hotel, though I pointed out that we could probably not expect Emerson and Ramses back before luncheon. Finally I
managed to persuade her to go walking in the Ezbekieh Gardens with Sennia and me. I always say there is nothing like the beauties of nature to distract one from worrisome thoughts. The Gardens are
planted with rare trees and shrubs and the air is harmonious with birdsong. Sennia was even more of a distraction; it required both of us to keep track of her as she ran up and down the gravelled
paths. It did Nefret good, I believe. When we started back, both of us holding tight to Sennia’s hands, she said ruefully, ‘You think I’m behaving like a silly coward, don’t
you?’
    ‘Perhaps just a bit. But I understand. One becomes accustomed to it, you see,’ I continued. ‘One never likes it, but one becomes resigned.’
    ‘I know I can’t keep him out of trouble,’ Nefret said. ‘It’s just this particular – ’
    ‘Little pitchers have big ears,’ I warned.
    ‘If you are referring to me,’ said Sennia, with great dignity, ‘my ears are not at all large. Ramses says they are pretty ears. Is he in trouble?’
    Nefret laughed and picked her up. We were about to cross the street, which was crowded with traffic. ‘No, Little Bird. And we will make sure he doesn’t get into it, won’t
we?’
    We had been waiting for almost an hour before they returned. Sennia was reading aloud to us from a little book of Egyptian fairy tales, but the moment the door opened she dropped it and ran to
meet them. Throwing her arms round Ramses’s waist, she asked anxiously, ‘Are you in trouble?’
    ‘Not unless you crack one of my ribs,’ Ramses said, with a theatrical gasp of pain. ‘Who told you that?’
    ‘Let us go to luncheon,’ I said.
    ‘Yes, I am starving,’ Sennia announced, rolling her eyes dramatically. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you, Ramses.’
    Emerson detached her from Ramses and swung her up onto his shoulder. ‘We will go down now.’
    I let them go ahead. ‘Well, Ramses?’ I inquired.
    ‘You shouldn’t worry the child, Mother.’
    ‘It wasn’t Mother, it was me.’ Nefret took his arm. ‘I’m sorry.’
    ‘It’s all right.’ He offered me his other arm, and as we proceeded to the dining salon he explained.
    ‘All he wanted was a consultation. He’s new at the job, and apparently nobody bothered to put him in the picture about certain matters. The military and the civil administration have
always been at odds. He’d heard of some of our activities, and wanted to know the facts.’
    ‘That’s all?’ Nefret demanded. ‘Nothing about . . .’
    ‘He wasn’t mentioned.’ Ramses grinned. ‘Under any of his pseudonyms. Father agreed to stay on in Cairo for another day or two, and meet with Wingate again. That should
please you; you’ll have more time at the hospital.’
    From Manuscript H
    The second meeting with Wingate was shorter than the first, and somewhat more acrimonious. Wingate wanted more details about a number of people Emerson was not anxious to
    discuss, and the roles they had played; when he asked about their dealings with ‘a certain gentleman named Smith’, Emerson lost his temper. (He had been itching to do so for some
    time.)
    ‘Good Gad, man, if you don’t know who the bastard is and what he’s up to, how should we? Come, Ramses; we have wasted enough time telling people things they ought to have known
anyhow and going over and over facts that are either self-explanatory or irrelevant.’
    The new high commissioner took this rudeness better than Ramses had expected. Now in his sixties, he had had a long and illustrious career as governor of the Sudan, and Ramses got