Part 29 (1/2)

”Yes, Peabody,” said Emerson, with only the slightest note of irony. ”Are you certain you can trust me to carry out an investigation without your a.s.sistance?”

”In this case,” I conceded, ”you are probably better qualified than I.”

”Good Gad,” said Emerson. ”Probably?”

FROM Ma.n.u.sCRIPT H.

They had been too worried and distressed the night before to discuss what had caused the accident. Anyhow, it would have been unproductive to speculate before they had all the facts, and the wreckage could better be examined in daylight.

In the end, six of them rode to Gurneh. Walter would not be left behind-although, to the best of Ramses's knowledge, he knew very little about the workings of motorcars-and Bertie turned up as they were leaving, to offer what a.s.sistance he could. They spent a little time with Selim's wives, who went about the conventional gestures of hospitality with better spirits than Ramses had expected. They knew Selim had got through the operation.

”The Sitt Hakim sent Daoud to tell us,” one of them explained.

Of course, Ramses realized, she would think of that. He hadn't.

Guiltily, praying he was not holding out false hope, he added additional rea.s.surance. ”He is better this morning. She says he will live.”

They had never doubted it. Not with the Sitt Hakim's magic working for him. Nur Misur was loved and trusted, but a little magic never hurt.

Half the village followed them to the scene of the crash. Nothing had been touched. Emerson had left orders.

In bright sunlight the wrecked motorcar looked even worse than it had the night before. It had gone off the path to the left, fallen onto its side, and slid down before it turned over, leaving a wide swath of disturbed soil littered with broken gla.s.s and bits of metal before cras.h.i.+ng into the ridge. If that outcrop had not been there, it would have rolled on down to the bottom of the path-and if Selim had not been thrown out before it fell he would almost certainly have been crushed in the wreckage.

Almost all the structural damage was on the left side of the vehicle: the door ripped off its hinges, the windscreen bent and shattered. One wheel was missing; the wooden spokes of the other were splintered and the tire was flat. The radiator had burst and the petrol tank had been ruptured. By now the petrol had evaporated, though the smell lingered.

”Here's the wheel,” David called from farther up the hill. They scrambled to join him. Emerson swept the area with an eagle eye, measuring distance and trajectory.

”If it came off as a result of the impact, it would be under the car, or lower down,” he muttered.

”The lug nuts are missing,” Ramses said. ”All six of them.” Even though he had expected this, he felt slightly sick. ”They must have been deliberately loosened. The car toppled over when the wheel came off.”

”It wasn't an accident?” Bertie looked as sick as Ramses felt.

”Not a chance of it,” Emerson replied grimly. ”Selim is a first-rate mechanic, and he kept the cursed thing in top condition.”

A murmur arose from the watching audience. Some of them understood English; they were pa.s.sing the news on to the rest. A slender black-robed woman picked up the child playing at her feet and hushed it. One of the squatting men lit a cigarette. Otherwise no one stirred. Intent dark eyes followed their every movement as they went over the vehicle inch by inch. Emerson insisted that it would have taken a man's strength to loosen the bolts. Ramses wasn't so sure of that; a long-handled wrench might have done the job if it were in the hands of a determined woman who knew something about motorcars.

”When was it done?” he asked.

Emerson fingered the cleft in his chin. ”We put the wheel back on day before yesterday. It was the wheel on the front right-not this one. The job must have been done that night. If I had put the d.a.m.ned car in the stableyard, as your mother kept telling me to do . . .”

The lines around his mouth deepened. ”It wouldn't have made any difference,” Ramses said. ”The stableyard is easily accessible and Ali sleeps like the dead. Loosening the lug nuts would take only a few minutes.”

”He, whoever he was, counted on the wheel coming off when Selim hit a steep stretch,” Sethos said musingly.

”The car was bound to turn over once it lost a wheel,” Ramses argued. ”Wherever that happened. He had to keep up a fair speed, that's the only way to drive over rough terrain.”

”Agreed. But the damage, to Selim and the vehicle, would have been considerably less if it had happened on a level stretch. It was a gamble-supposing that murder was the intent.”

”Just like all the other cases,” Ramses muttered.

Emerson looked round. ”Daoud. I want the motorcar brought back to the house. Collect every sc.r.a.p.”

”It's a total wreck, sir,” Bertie exclaimed. ”You'll never repair it.”

”Do you suppose I give a curse about that?” Emerson demanded.

Daoud flexed big brown hands and nodded vigorously. ”It shall be as you say, Father of Curses. Selim can repair the motorcar. You will see.”

Emerson's features twisted into a painful grimace. His voice was hoa.r.s.er than usual when he replied. ”You are right, Daoud. He can and he will.”

”And,” said Daoud placidly, ”you will find the man who did this and give him to me.”

”Inshallah,” said Sethos under his breath.

Daoud repeated the word and, after a moment, so did Emerson.

I HAD SENT WORD TO Katherine and Cyrus that morning, for I knew they would want the latest bulletin. Shortly thereafter they came in person.

”We won't stay unless we can be of use, Amelia,” Katherine a.s.sured me, seating herself next to me and taking my hands. ”What can we do to help? Is he really better?”

I had just left the sickroom, where Kadija sat like a large ebony idol, her very presence rea.s.suring. ”He is still unconscious, but his breathing is easier.”

”It must have been horrible for Nefret,” Katherine murmured, with a little s.h.i.+ver. ”The knowledge that the life of someone she knows and loves was in her hands . . .”

”She has always come through when she had to,” I said. ”Cool and steady as a machine. She will break down eventually, but not before she is certain he is out of danger. You will stay for luncheon, won't you?”

Fatima, who had been trying to force me to eat again, let out a murmur of pleasure and hurried into the house. Cyrus stopped pacing-he had been up and down the length of the veranda a dozen times-and put his hand on my shoulder.

”Sure we won't be in the way?”

”Not at all,” I a.s.sured him. ”We could use some help with the children. I am very grateful to you for getting Dolly and Sennia away so quickly, but they all know something is wrong and they are, of course, behaving like fiends.”

”How well I remember.” Katherine rose. ”Where are they?”

”Lia and Evelyn have corralled them in Sennia's courtyard. At least I hope they have.”

She hurried off. I motioned to Cyrus, who was still pacing. ”Sit down, Cyrus. The men will be back soon. They went to Gurneh to inspect the motorcar. Will you wait for them here? I promised Nefret I would sit with Selim while she got a little rest.”

She was in his sickroom when I hastened in, bending over the bed. Guiltily I began, ”I am sorry, Nefret. I was only away-”

She looked up. Her eyes were luminous. ”He's conscious. Kadija came for me.”

I dropped to my knees beside the bed. Selim's eyes were open. He saw me; he recognized me. His lips parted.

”Don't speak,” I said gently. ”Don't move. You had an accident and were badly hurt, but Nefret has taken care of your injuries. You are in her clinic and you are going to be fine.”

I thought that answering the most obvious questions would keep him quiet, but he had something else on his mind.