Part 41 (1/2)

”Bah,” said Emerson.

It was not long before yawns and lengthening silences interrupted speech, and I decreed that it was time to retire. It had been a long hard day for most of us.

Bertha was not pleased to learn that she was to share my tent. Not that she said so- she was a very silent creature, at least with me- but she was very adept at conveying her feelings without the use of words. Removing only her outer robe and veil, she rolled herself in a blanket and within a few minutes her regular breathing indicated that she had fallen asleep. I had intended to ask her a few questions, but I was unusually tired myself. I felt my eyelids droop . . .

How long it took me to realize that my drowsiness was unnatural I cannot say. I am particularly resistant to drugs and hypnosis, it is not so much physical immunity as something in my character, I believe.

For an indeterminate time I lay in a semi-stupor, dozing off and waking, hearing the low voices of the workmen and the clatter of cooking pots gradually fade into silence. It was well past midnight, I think, when the sleepless sentinel within my brain finally made itself heard. ”This is no natural repose,” it cried. ”Arouse yourself and act!”

It was easier said (or thought) than done. My limbs felt as limp as boneless tentacles. But the remedy was close at hand. I had employed it before in a similar situation, and thanks to the rearrangement of the tent made necessary by the addition of Bertha's cot, all my equipment was nearby. I had only to stretch out my hand.

My fingers were as clumsy as an animal's paws, but at last I managed to open the box of medical supplies and extract my smelling salts. A good whiff of them not only cleared my head, it left the distinct impression that the top of that appendage had been blown off. I sat up and put my feet on the floor. I had taken off my boots and jacket and my belt of accounterments before retiring. The boots, at least, I must rea.s.sume before proceeding to investigate. Not only was the ground uneven and painful to stockinged feet, but there were scorpions and other stinging creatures to be avoided.

I was still fumbling for my boots- for I did not deem it expedient to strike a light- when I heard a soft rattle of pebbles from without, and realized that a similar sound must have alerted my sleepless sentinel. An animal might have caused it, or a man abroad on some harmless errand. But I thought not. Leaping to my feet, I promptly fell flat onto the floor- or, to be more accurate, onto Bertha's cot. The sudden impact was too much for the frail structure, it collapsed, with Bertha still on it.

Though I had not planned it that way, the incident had the desired effect, i.e., to alarm the camp.

My startled shout was answered by a louder cry. Rocks crunched and rolled under running feet. A shot rang out.

I managed to extract myself from the ma.s.s of tumbled blankets and bits of broken cot Bertha had not stirred. If I had had any doubts about being drugged, her immobility would have removed them, normal sleep would surely have been interrupted by the collapse of the bed and the impact of my body. First I located my parasol, then, finding my knees were still too unsteady to permit a more erect posture, I crawled toward the entrance of the tent. When I raised the flap the first thing my hazed eyes beheld was a gigantic firefly, wavering back and forth in drunken flight. With some effort I focused my vision. The light was that of a lantern. Emerson was holding it. Seeing me he said, ”h.e.l.l and d.a.m.nation!” but he said no more, for his knees buckled and he sat down suddenly on the ground- on a sharp rock, to judge by the equally profane outcry that followed.

”It is most interesting,” I remarked somewhat later, ”to observe the varying effects of a particular drug on different people.”

”Urgh,” said Emerson. He had irritably refused the offer of my smelling salts, and was drinking cup after cup of strong coffee.

”You,” I continued, ”may have acquired a certain immunity as a result of- er- your recent experiences. Cyrus was less affected than Rene and Charles- ”

”Argh,” said Cyrus.

”While Bertha was the most susceptible of all.”

”Will she be all right?” Heavy-eyed and pale, Rene looked anxiously at me.

”Yes, certainly. She will have a good night's sleep, which is more than can be said of the rest of us. The guard,” I continued, ”appears to have been relatively unaffected. Of course we don't know how the laudanum was administered, so we cannot be certain of how much each person consumed.”

”It was in the food,” Emerson muttered.

”Or drink. But which dish? Everyone got some of it, not only ourselves, but the Egyptians. Even the guard admits he was dozing when he heard me cry out. The question is one of some importance, you must agree, since we must determine who had the opportunity to add the opium to our food. We have a traitor in our midst, gentlemen!”

Emerson gave me a critical look over the rim of his coffee cup. ”Allowing for the excessive melodrama of your speech patterns, Peabody, it appears you are correct. The chef is the most obvious suspect.”

”Too obvious,” I said. ”You know how he cooks- pots simmering for hours on a fire, out in the open, with people constantly coming and going- and staying to gossip. We must interrogate the servants- ”

”Rot,” Emerson growled. ”There is no way we can determine who is responsible for this. The filthy stuff may have been added to one of the water jars before we ever left the village. Anyone could have done it.” His eyes raked the watching faces with sapphirine intensity, and he repeated with slow emphasis, ”Anyone.”

Charles immediately looked so guilty, my old friend Inspector Cuff would have arrested him on the spot. It led to a strong presumption of his innocence.

But after we had finally dispersed I asked myself what I really knew about the two young archaeologists. Rene had been with Cyrus for several years, but even old acquaintance could not clear a man of suspicion in this case. The lure of treasure and of discovery is strong enough to seduce those of weak character. Aside from our men from Aziyeh, there were only three who could be considered above suspicion: Emerson, Cyrus and myself. As for Bertha . . Her drug-induced sleep was genuine. I had applied a number of tests, the results of which left no doubt in my mind. But only the stupidest of conspirators would fail to include himself- or herself- among the victims in such a case. I did not think Bertha was that stupid.

In the clear light of morning we were able to determine that only the area near my tent showed signs of uninvited guests. The partial prints of bare feet were visible in two places where none of our men had trod.

When we started out for the royal wadi, Cyrus was carrying a rifle. Emerson's eyebrows climbed when he saw it, but he made no objection, even when Cyrus said coolly, ”Don't get het up if you see someone above, on the plateau. I sent a couple of my boys up there to keep a lookout.”