Read Online The Golden One by Elizabeth Peters - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Elizabeth Peters
Ads: Link
the impression
that he was finding it harder to deal with his peers in Cairo than with rebellious Sudanese. As Emerson stalked out of the room, Wingate said mildly, ‘Thank you for your time,
gentlemen’, and returned to his papers.
‘That’s that,’ Emerson declared. ‘It’s high time we got out of this bloody city. Is Nefret ready to leave?’
On the morning of their departure Nefret and Ramses breakfasted alone in their room, at what struck Ramses as an obscenely early hour.
‘I need all the time I can get at the hospital,’ she declared. ‘Since Father is determined on leaving today.’
‘He’d have put it off again if you had asked him.’
‘I couldn’t do that. He’s on fire to get to Luxor and catch a few tomb robbers. There was no need for you to get up so early. You don’t have to escort me.’
‘Would you rather I didn’t?’
‘You can if you like.’ Frowning slightly, she concentrated on the piece of toast she was cutting into strips. ‘It’s boring for you, though. You hardly said a word the
other night when we dined with Sophia and Beatrice.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he began.
‘Don’t apologize, damn it!’ She put her knife down and gave him a rueful smile. ‘There’s no need for you to be so defensive, darling. I didn’t mean it as a
reproach. You couldn’t have got a word in anyhow! It was rude of us not to include you in the conversation.’
‘That’s all right.’ The pronouns jarred, though. Us and you. ‘I think I will come along, if you don’t mind. There’s someone I want to see, if I can find
him.’
‘Who?’
He described his encounter with Musa as they walked through the ornate lobby and out the door of the hotel.
‘You didn’t tell me,’ Nefret said, and then laughed and took his arm. ‘You couldn’t get a word in, could you? Sophia told me about el-Gharbi’s being arrested.
Did you know he had put the word out that we were not to be bothered?’
‘I thought he might have done.’
‘I never supposed I would regret the arrest of the worst procurer in Cairo.’ Her face was troubled. ‘But Sophia says things have got worse. More injuries, and fewer of the
women are coming to us.’
‘Musa wants me to intervene on behalf of el-Gharbi. Shall I try to get him out?’
‘Could you?’
‘Do you want him out?’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Nefret said despairingly. ‘How does one choose between two evils? Leave it alone, darling. I don’t want you getting involved with the police
again. Russell would try to recruit you for some rotten job, and I won’t allow it.’
‘Russell’s sticking to ordinary police work these days. There’s a new military intelligence organization – or will be, if they ever get it right. They keep shuffling
people around. Clayton and the Arab Bureau are now – ’
‘How did you find that out?’ Her eyes narrowed and her voice was sharp.
‘From Wingate, for the most part. Plus odds and ends of gossip here and there.’
‘Oh, very informative. Ramses, I don’t care who is doing what with whom, so long as “whom” isn’t you. Promise me you’ll stay away from them. All of
them.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
Her tight lips relaxed into one of her most bewitching smiles, complete with dimples, and as a further inducement to good behaviour, she told him she would be back in time for luncheon. Ramses
watched her run lightly up the steps and in the door before he turned away.
Could he get el-Gharbi paroled? The answer was probably no. Unless . . . the idea hadn’t occurred to him until Nefret asked. It had probably been Thomas Russell who reeled him in. If he
could persuade Russell that el-Gharbi had information that could be of use to him . . .
The answer was still no. Russell wouldn’t make a deal with someone he despised as much as he did the procurer. Anyhow, there were only two questions Ramses would like to have answered: the
whereabouts of his infuriating uncle, and the identity of the man who
that he was finding it harder to deal with his peers in Cairo than with rebellious Sudanese. As Emerson stalked out of the room, Wingate said mildly, ‘Thank you for your time,
gentlemen’, and returned to his papers.
‘That’s that,’ Emerson declared. ‘It’s high time we got out of this bloody city. Is Nefret ready to leave?’
On the morning of their departure Nefret and Ramses breakfasted alone in their room, at what struck Ramses as an obscenely early hour.
‘I need all the time I can get at the hospital,’ she declared. ‘Since Father is determined on leaving today.’
‘He’d have put it off again if you had asked him.’
‘I couldn’t do that. He’s on fire to get to Luxor and catch a few tomb robbers. There was no need for you to get up so early. You don’t have to escort me.’
‘Would you rather I didn’t?’
‘You can if you like.’ Frowning slightly, she concentrated on the piece of toast she was cutting into strips. ‘It’s boring for you, though. You hardly said a word the
other night when we dined with Sophia and Beatrice.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he began.
‘Don’t apologize, damn it!’ She put her knife down and gave him a rueful smile. ‘There’s no need for you to be so defensive, darling. I didn’t mean it as a
reproach. You couldn’t have got a word in anyhow! It was rude of us not to include you in the conversation.’
‘That’s all right.’ The pronouns jarred, though. Us and you. ‘I think I will come along, if you don’t mind. There’s someone I want to see, if I can find
him.’
‘Who?’
He described his encounter with Musa as they walked through the ornate lobby and out the door of the hotel.
‘You didn’t tell me,’ Nefret said, and then laughed and took his arm. ‘You couldn’t get a word in, could you? Sophia told me about el-Gharbi’s being arrested.
Did you know he had put the word out that we were not to be bothered?’
‘I thought he might have done.’
‘I never supposed I would regret the arrest of the worst procurer in Cairo.’ Her face was troubled. ‘But Sophia says things have got worse. More injuries, and fewer of the
women are coming to us.’
‘Musa wants me to intervene on behalf of el-Gharbi. Shall I try to get him out?’
‘Could you?’
‘Do you want him out?’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Nefret said despairingly. ‘How does one choose between two evils? Leave it alone, darling. I don’t want you getting involved with the police
again. Russell would try to recruit you for some rotten job, and I won’t allow it.’
‘Russell’s sticking to ordinary police work these days. There’s a new military intelligence organization – or will be, if they ever get it right. They keep shuffling
people around. Clayton and the Arab Bureau are now – ’
‘How did you find that out?’ Her eyes narrowed and her voice was sharp.
‘From Wingate, for the most part. Plus odds and ends of gossip here and there.’
‘Oh, very informative. Ramses, I don’t care who is doing what with whom, so long as “whom” isn’t you. Promise me you’ll stay away from them. All of
them.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
Her tight lips relaxed into one of her most bewitching smiles, complete with dimples, and as a further inducement to good behaviour, she told him she would be back in time for luncheon. Ramses
watched her run lightly up the steps and in the door before he turned away.
Could he get el-Gharbi paroled? The answer was probably no. Unless . . . the idea hadn’t occurred to him until Nefret asked. It had probably been Thomas Russell who reeled him in. If he
could persuade Russell that el-Gharbi had information that could be of use to him . . .
The answer was still no. Russell wouldn’t make a deal with someone he despised as much as he did the procurer. Anyhow, there were only two questions Ramses would like to have answered: the
whereabouts of his infuriating uncle, and the identity of the man who
Similar Books
