like a character out of Noel Coward. She was dangerous, though, a slightly soiled debutante who gave a whole new meaning to “The Lady Is a Tramp.”
She was saying, “Just get into town?”
“Yeah,” Alex said, with a brash smile. “I’ve been out west on an archaeological expedition.”
She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes as she squeezed his nearer arm. “That sounds fascinating. Maybe we could find somewhere quiet, and cover some unexplored territory of our own.”
The boy’s confidence fizzled. “Well, uh, er, ah . . .”
Jonathan frowned. Didn’t they teach these college boys anything over in the States?
She was working a gloved hand along Alex’s chest when Jonathan decided he needed to swoop in and save the lad from a fate worse than death. Well, perhaps not worse than death. . . actually quite a nice fate, unless one of her other boyfriends was around . . . still . . .
Jonathan moved in, slipped an arm around his nephew’s shoulder, and gave the heiress a pick-on-someone-your-own-size smile, to which she responded with a mind-your-own-business frown, and walked the lad toward the bar.
“Alex, my boy,” Jonathan said. “Let your uncle buy you a drink . . .”
Alex was craning to look at the brunette ship he seemed to be passing in the night. “Well, that’s swell of you, Uncle Jon, only that young lady seems to have the same idea . . . and to be honest, she’s better-looking than you.”
They were at the bar now.
“That’s a matter of perspective,” Jonathan said, “and trust me, old son, there isn’t much virgin territory to be explored on that continent. Let me put it in archaeological terms—that’s one tomb in which many a pharoah has lain . . . Tell me, have you given any thought to how you’ll handle your parents, when they find out what you’ve been up to of late?”
Alex shook his head and smirked sourly. “It’s not my fault that they got out of the family business.”
Jonathan ordered up a cocktail for himself and a Coca-Cola for his nephew; this may have been Shanghai, but the lad was still only twenty. “My boy, your discovery will be all over the press in a matter of days—papers, radio, newsreels. Your father may not be a genius, but even he will be able to add two to two and come up with four . . . ‘four’ being the simple fact that you have dropped out of college.”
The brunette wandered by, flashing Alex a smile. Virgin territory or not, the boy seemed interested in planting a flag for Great Britain.
“Alex! Pay attention. This is serious business. Can you imagine what your parents’ reaction will be?”
Alex threw down half the Coke, frowned at it when he realized what it was, then said, “Relax, Uncle Jon. The chance of Rick and Evy O’Connell coming down those stairs is a million-to-one shot. Even you couldn’t lose with those odds . . .”
“Perhaps not.”
“If you’ll excuse me?” Alex made a face as he put the Coke glass on the counter. Then he moved toward the brunette, who had been lingering on the sidelines. A moment after he got to her, she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the adjoining room.
Jonathan sighed, then muttered to himself, “Boy’s going to be eaten alive . . . although Lord knows there are worse ways to go.”
The proprietor of Imhotep’s sipped his martini and surveyed his kingdom languidly. The band was playing “Slow Boat to China,” couples out on the dance floor clinging to each other. His eyes moved to the stairs and he saw a handsome couple coming down, a tall, broad-shouldered fellow in tuxedo and black tie, and a gorgeous, dark-eyed, dark-haired wench in a gold lamé gown. Jonathan was straightening his tie, taking in the woman’s beauty, when the couple moved into the light and Jonathan thought, Crikey, it’s my sister!
And the tall-broad shouldered fellow, of course, was his brother-in-law. Of all the gin joints in all the towns of the world, Jonathan thought, they walk into mine .
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