Night Train to Memphis

Chapter Fourteen

I

RIGHT BACK WHERE I’d started.

So I thought, when I woke up to find myself in a large room furnished with antiques. I felt quite calm and relaxed. That’s one thing to be said for tranquillizers. They leave the recipient very tranquil.

Deep down under the layers of fuzzy pharmaceutical comfort a small section of my brain was trying frantically to get my attention. Think, it was screaming. Do something! Don’t just lie there, get me out of this!

There had been time for him to take me back to Luxor. Night had fallen; the windows of the room were dark. But this wasn’t one of the rooms in Larry’s Luxor house. The furniture was old but it was not as well-cared-for as Larry’s antiques; the gilt was chipped and the mattress of the bed on which I lay smelled slightly musty. Either Larry had a pied-à-terre in Cairo, or he was staying with a friend. (He had so many of them.) This wasn’t a hotel room. There was no television set, no room service menu – and no telephone.

And no bolt and chain on the inside of the door. The door was locked from the outside. Was I surprised? No. But I was sorry that frantic little voice had shaken me out of my stupor.

The windows were not lockcd. They led onto a small balcony, and I stood there for a few minutes, letting the night breeze cool my face. A few lights showed through the branches of the trees that were, I was sorry to see, on the same level as the balcony and too far from it to offer a means of egress. The ground was a long way down. There was no familiar landmark in sight – no towers, no high-rise hotels, not even a pyramid. The house must be in one of the suburbs.

The adjoining bath had once been palatial. Now the tile was chipped and the marble discoloured. The water ran rusty.

After it had cleared a little I splashed water on my face and hands. Then I went back and sat down. There weren’t that many alternatives.

By that time the fuzz was gone, and I was in a state of abject, disgusting panic. The past hours hadn’t been comfortable; I had been scared most of the time, scared to death and out of my wits some of the time, but this was worse – like having a chair pulled out from under you just when you think you can finally sit down and relax. To do myself justice it wasn’t the thought of Mary’s plans for me that made my mouth go dry and my hands shake. John and Schmidt could be tucked away in neighbouring rooms, with Mary busy at work on one or both. Feisal could be dead.

It wasn’t courage that got me to my feet, it was desperation. I had to find out. The truth might be less painful than the things I was imagining. It couldn’t be worse.

I banged on the door. After a moment I heard the sound of a key in the lock, and the door opened. He didn’t point a gun at me. He didn’t have to. The guard was Hans, my old acquaintance, the one with the face like a giant sheep and the physique of a giant, period. Hans even had muscles on his ears, and he was almost seven feet tall.

The Egyptian sun had been hard on his fair complexion. His cheeks were red and peeling. ‘Guten Abend, Fräulein Doktor,’ he said politely. ‘Also, Sie sind aufgewacht. I will tell them.’

Ten interminable, dragging minutes passed before there was a response. My aching muscles relaxed when I saw Larry. I didn’t like him a lot, but I definitely preferred his company to that of the lady. Ed followed him, carrying a tray. He didn’t make a very convincing waiter.

‘Shorthanded?’ I inquired, as Ed put the tray on the table and retreated to the door, where he stood with his arms folded, looking bored. This sort of thing was all in a day’s work for him, I supposed.

‘You have disrupted my plans rather badly,’ Larry admitted. ‘But only temporarily. Would you care for something to drink?’

The bottle of mineral water hadn’t been opened; the seal was intact. Larry watched with unconcealed amusement while I inspected it.

‘You really haven’t much choice,’ he pointed out pleasantly. ‘You might go on a hunger strike, but you can’t do without water long in this climate.’

Courteous as ever, he forbore to add that there were other, less comfortable means of controlling me. ‘So what are your plans?’ I inquired.

Larry settled back in his chair and studied me with an approving smile. ‘You are quite a remarkable woman, Vicky. Would it surprise you to learn that when I informed the Embassy we were engaged to be married, I found the idea not entirely displeasing?’

‘Let’s just be friends,’ I suggested.

Larry laughed. ‘Your heart belongs to another? Think about it Vicky. It would be one way out of our present difliculty.’

‘Where is he?’

He didn’t ask whom I meant. ‘You don’t know?’

‘We separated this morning.’ There was no harm in telling him that much; he must know Feisal and I had travelled together. It was a reasonable assumption that John and Schmidt would have done the same.

‘I thought you might have. You had, of course, arranged a meeting place in Cairo? Never mind, we don’t need that information. We’ve taken the necessary steps to inform him that you are my guest. He should be arriving anytime.’

They hadn’t caught him. My face must have registered relief. Larry shook his head. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, Vicky. There’s a guard under your balcony and every door is being watched.’

So it was to be an exchange – or an offer of one. They couldn’t afford to let me go. John must know that.

‘How did you get in touch with him?’

‘My dear, your lovely face has been on every television programme in the country this evening. I gave out the press release myself. I’m sure he’s seen it, he’ll have been following the news closely. You are suffering from shock and physical and nervous exhaustion at the villa of the chairman of the Egypto-American Trading Company. He spends most of his time in the States, but he was happy to offer a refuge to you and your solicitous fiancé.’

And when I fell off the balcony or slashed my wrists my solicitous fiancé would say I’d committed suicide in a fit of clinical depression. They’d add that to Feisal’s account too.

‘What about Feisal?’ I had to force myself to ask; I dreaded the answer.

Larry dismissed the minor question of a man’s life with a wave of his hand. ‘Forget about him, he’s no longer a factor. Schmidt and Tregarth are the ones who concern me, and they ought to concern you as well; you’re in no danger unless they refuse to cooperate. No, don’t interrupt, let me finish. Why should I want to harm you? Once I’m out of the country there’s no way you can prove anything, and without that pectoral you haven’t a leg to stand on.’

He took my appalled silence as a sign that his arguments were beginning to have their effect. Leaning forward, his eyes intent, he went on, ‘You’ve gone to a great deal of trouble and endured a great deal of danger and distress to stop me. Admirable, no doubt, but very foolish. Why risk your life to prevent me from doing something so harmless? The antiquities I have acquired will be cared for and preserved more carefully than they would have been in their original locations. What I’ve done is an act of rescue, not desecration.’

I knew the arguments. They have been used by every looter, archaeologist, or thief, from the beginning of time, and unfortunately they have some merit. There wouldn’t be much left of the Elgin marbles if they had stayed in the Parthenon. I don’t buy those arguments, but I didn’t feel like arguing with Larry.

I had seen eyes like his once before – in the face of a shabby, shy little man who had tried to smash a statue of Diana in our museum. The guards had got to him before he did much damage, and I had had a chance to talk to him later, when he was in police custody. He had been very polite and soft-spoken when he explained that God had told him to destroy the heathen images. He couldn’t understand why we couldn’t see his point of view.

The little man and Larry had opposite aims, but they had the same mind-set. A kind of mental constipation, if you will excuse the homely metaphor – a block of solid conviction through which no counter argument can pass.

Larry turned with a frown when the door opened. We’d been getting on so well; he felt sure I had been about to agree with him.

Her hair was tied back with a soft scarf that matched her pale blue dress. It was like a child’s pinafore, with wide shoulder straps and big pockets in the gathered skirt, and she looked about sixteen. The Greek earrings shone bright against the masses of her dark hair.

‘Has she got it?’ Mary’s voice was crisp and not at all childish.

‘We haven’t discussed that,’ Larry said. ‘I doubt it, though. Please go.’

‘You promised me . . .’

‘No, I didn’t. Get out and leave this to me.’

She divided a malignant glance between the two of us and slipped out.

‘That woman is getting to be a damned nuisance, Larry muttered. ‘I think she’s a little crazy.’

‘You know, Larry, you might have something there. Why don’t you fire her? You hired her.’

‘No, I didn’t. My original arrangements were made with her brother. A very competent man.’

Competent, sane Leif. I remembered the last sight I’d had of him. The knife with which he’d been slashing at me was still in his hand when John dragged him down under the icy water.

Larry’s frown smoothed out. ‘Well, it won’t be much longer. I will certainly sever my connections with the organization after this. I hate to do it because they’ve done excellent work for me in the past, and at the start she was quite efficient. Some of her ideas were brilliant, in fact – like planting that message with the dead agent to get you on board as a means of making Tregarth behave himself.’

‘Oh,’ I said. He seemed to expect some response, but congratulating him on that brilliant idea was more than I could manage.

‘Her organization handled that matter, and very well, too.’ Larry went on. ‘She’s been acting strangely the last few weeks, though, and one can’t put up with that sort of thing. It’s inefficient.’

‘Right,’ I said, swallowing.

‘I need that pectoral, Vicky,’ Larry went on. ‘Do you have it?’

‘What . . . Oh.’ In the fascination of following Larry’s mind along its monster-haunted byways I had almost forgotten the Tutankhamon jewel. ‘No, I don’t have it. Didn’t you search me?’

Larry looked uncomfortable. ‘Only in the most respectful fashion. Mary wanted to . . . Of course I couldn’t allow that.’

‘Thanks,’ I said. And I meant it. The idea of those soft little hands on me made my skin crawl.

‘It’s a very large object,’ Larry went on. ‘I don’t believe I could have missed it. Anyhow, I didn’t suppose Tregarth would trust you with it. He has it, doesn’t he?’

‘Unless he is a lot dumber than I think he is, he’s stowed it away somewhere safe by now.’

‘So we decided. Well.’ Larry rose. ‘He’ll turn it over to us in exchange for you. So you see, Vicky, you haven’t a thing to worry about. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?’

His departure would certainly have that effect but it wouldn’t have been tactful to say so. I shook my head.

‘Have a little rest,’ Larry said kindly. ‘I’ll let you know as soon as we hear from him.’

Mary wasn’t the only one who’d gone around the bend in the last few weeks. Or had Larry always been this way, determinedly unconscious of the deadly results of his ‘harmless’ schemes? Maybe they were all like that, the presidents and chairmen and commanding generals who sat in their offices and gave orders to ‘engage targets’ or ‘cut the work force.’ They never saw the suffering, bleeding bodies those orders affected.

I didn’t have a little rest or eat any of the food on the tray. It wasn’t very appetizing – dry sandwiches and a wilted salad that probably contained a whole colony of healthy typhoid germs. That suggested there were few or no servants in the house. Larry might not have his full crew with him. Some of them would have to stay with the boat. Mary and Hans were here, and that probably meant Max and Rudi were also with Larry. How many others?

And what the hell difference did it make? I couldn’t get out and there was no way John could get to me without being caught.

I went onto the balcony. Down below – far down – I saw a stone-paved terrace without so much as a shrub to break one’s fall. Rudi was down there too. At least the shape in the shadows, slim as a weasel, looked like his. To complete the picture of total disaster, the railing of the balcony swayed under the pressure of my hands. No point in trying the old bedsheet routine even if Rudi hadn’t been lurking. Those rails wouldn’t support the weight of a healthy six-foot female.

I was inspecting the bathroom, hoping to find a used razor blade or a nail file, when I heard the bedroom door open.

‘He’s on his way. He telephoned a few minutes ago.’

Her eyes glowed. Little flecks floated in them like the dead insects in amber. My heart couldn’t sink any farther; it was already trying to shove through the sole of my shoe.

‘So,’ Mary went on briskly, ‘we must get ready to receive him, mustn’t we. Sit down in that chair. Not the big carved armchair. That one.’

It was a straight chair, the seat and back covered with faded gold brocade.

‘No, thanks,’ I said, backing away. ‘I’d rather stand.’

‘If you prefer it this way.’ She turned to the door. ‘Hans. Come in.’

Hans’s face wasn’t capable of displaying subtle emotion, but I got the impression that even he was beginning to wonder about little Mary. ‘Aber, gnädige Frau, Herr Max hat mir gesagt – ’

‘From whom do you take your orders? I’m not going to hurt her,’ she added unconvincingly. At least it didn’t convince me. Poor bewildered Hans shrugged, setting off a miniature avalanche of muscles, and advanced on me.

Just for the look of the thing, I picked up a bowl from the table and heaved it. To my surprise it hit him square on the chest. Not to my surprise it didn’t halt his advance.

So I sat down in the chair and Hans took the cord Mary had foresightedly brought with her, and he tied my wrists and ankles. He worked with slow deliberation. The knots weren’t painfully tight. Hans didn’t get any jollies from hurting people. He just killed them.

‘Larry isn’t going to like this,’ I said.

‘Larry knows I’m here.’ Mary assisted Hans out the door and closed it. ‘My darling husband is an ingenious swine, and as I pointed out to Larry, it would be foolish to take unnecessary chances.’

‘Are you really married?’

‘Bell, book, and candle.’ Mary leaned against the table, hands in her pockets. ‘Not for long, though,’ she went on conversationally. ‘I regret that, in a way. I shall hate wearing black. It’s not my colour. And sharing his bed was quite an interesting experience.’

‘Oh, come off it,’ I said. ‘You’re wasting your time with that routine, Mary. He could hardly stand to touch you. It was always you hanging on to him, instead of – ’

I wouldn’t have believed a soft little hand like that could hit so hard. When my ears had stopped ringing I said, ‘Did Larry authorize beating me up?’

‘He took my knife away.’ Mary’s voice deepened and the golden eyes glittered. ‘But he can’t object to this. A few bruises will have a persuasive effect on John. You’ve got him trained like one of Pavlov’s dogs. I don’t understand how you accomplished it – ’

She examined me curiously, from head to foot and back again. I could see her problem; the idea that any normal man could resist a cuddly little cutie in favour of a six-foot Amazon with a sarcastic tongue and the disposition of a hedgehog absolutely baffled her. To be honest, it baffled me too – not that he could reisist little Miss Mary the Ripper, but that he had stuck with me so long.

With an abrupt movement she pulled the lovely little Greek heads from her ears and flung them at me. ‘These were meant for you, you know: I made him give them to me. Did you enjoy seeing me wear them?’

‘I did wonder. They aren’t your style.’

‘But they were clearly a love token, weren’t they? Something distinctive and different, carefully chosen for a woman who would appreciate them.’ Her thumb caressed the gaudy diamond on her finger.

I knew what she intended and I was contemptibly relieved when she decided to try a little mental torture first. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know how your other friends are faring?’

I shrugged. ‘You haven’t got Schmidt or you would have said so. Feisal . . . I assume Feisal is dead.’

‘Oh, no,’ Mary said softly. ‘He’s still alive. He may never walk again, but that won’t concern him after they hang him for treason.’ The tip of her little pink tongue showed between her parted lips. She was having such a good time she didn’t even hear the voices outside.

There’s a poem about a highwayman who came riding, riding, up to the old inn door. The soldiers used his sweetheart as a decoy, tying her to a chair with a rifle pointed at her breast. She managed to get one finger around the trigger, and when she heard him coming she pulled – ‘and warned him with her death.’

I always wondered why she didn’t just yell.

Oh, well, maybe he couldn’t have heard her over the pounding of his horse’s hooves. Or maybe it didn’t fit the metre. I didn’t have a rifle at my breast. Anyhow, John knew the soldiers were there.

I threw my head back and opened my mouth and screamed. But the name I called was not that of my lover. ‘Max! Hey, Max!’

John was the first one through the door, but Max was right behind him. It wasn’t until much later that I understood the significance of that sequence.

The Pavlonian conditioning didn’t seem to be as strong as Mary had believed. After a few steps John stopped. He had only glanced at me; his eyes were fixed on Mary.

‘More melodrama,’ Max said in exasperation. ‘How weary I am of this! You were forbidden to come here, Mary. Mr Tregarth is willing to cooperate. You will only irritate him if you persist in this nonsense.’

‘I am already irritated,’ John said. His eyes returned to my face. ‘Are you – ’

‘Fine, just fine,’ I said, stretching my mouth into a smile. My cheek hurt. ‘I do hope you have a couple of aces up your sleeve, because if you haven’t, this was not one of your brighter moves.’

He was still wearing Keith’s suit, but he had washed the cheap dye out of his hair. Avoiding my eyes, he remarked, to the room in general, ‘She tends to babble when she’s nervous. Mary does affect people that way. Get her out of here.’

Blenkiron was the next to arrive. ‘Damn it,’ he exclaimed. ‘Mary, I told you – ’

She laughed contemptuously. ‘What a conveniently bad memory you have, Larry.’

‘Well, I certainly didn’t give you permission to . . .’ He couldn’t even say the ugly words. ‘I’m sorry, Vicky. I told her to stay with you but I never authorized . . .’

‘Swell,’ I said. ‘So how about untying me?’

Nobody reacted to that naive suggestion. Mary backed off a few steps and Max said, with poorly concealed exasperation, ‘Can we now discuss the situation in a reasonable way? You have the pectoral, Mr Tregarth?’

‘You know I haven’t,’ John said. ‘You watched Rudi search me.’

‘Where is it?’

‘None of your damned business. Now, Maxie, don’t lose your temper. That pectoral is my ace in the hole. You don’t suppose I’ll meekly hand it over without getting something in return, do you?’

‘Need I ask what?’

‘Surely not. And please don’t insult my intelligence by suggesting you’ll turn her loose after I deliver the goods. I want her out of here and safely back at the Embassy. As soon as she telephones to say she’s there, and the ambassador confirms it, I’ll get the pectoral for you.’

‘We could force you to tell us,’ Max said.

‘You could certainly try,’ John said agreeably. Leaning against a chest of drawers, hands in his pockets, he was putting on a pretty good imitation of languid self-confidence, but the tension that vibrated along every nerve was evident to me at least. He was trying very hard not to look at me.

‘But it’s not the most efficient method of attaining your ends,’ he went on. ‘You know me well, Maxie; do you suppose I give a damn about the museum or the tomb or any bloody antiquity on the face of the earth? I’ll even go through with the robbery, if that’s what you want.’

‘You will?’ Blenkiron said eagerly. ‘But you said – ’

John raised an eyebrow. ‘I didn’t object to robbing the museum. The thing that put me off a bit was a strong suspicion that I wouldn’t survive the attempt. I’m willing to take my chances with the ordinary security system, but I object to being shot or stabbed in the back by one of my purported assistants.’

Max looked a little embarrassed. ‘I was against that,’ he said. ‘I felt sure you would expect something of the sort and there really was no need – ’

John cut him off. He was looking at Max, but I knew he was aware of every move Mary made and every breath she took. She was the most unstable and unpredictable factor in the structure of mutual self-interest he was building with such agonizing deliberation. I was afraid to move or speak for fear of shaking it. And I knew why he wouldn’t look at me.

‘There was no need,’ John agreed. ‘You’re a businessman, Max, and Mr Blenkiron’s sole concern is making off with his pretty toys. My sole interest is my survival and Vicky’s. My proposal will accomplish all those admirable aims, but you will have to make up your minds without delay. Herr Schmidt has an appointment with the director of the museum in’ – he glanced at the cheap watch that had replaced his – ‘in an hour and a quarter. If he hasn’t heard from me before he leaves his present location he will take the pectoral with him and then, if you will excuse a cliché, the die will be cast. There’s barely time for Vicky to reach the Embassy providing she leaves within the next five minutes.’

Max’s eyes narrowed. ‘We must discuss this. It requires consultation.’

‘It’s your own fault,’ John said. ‘You oughtn’t to have selected such a remote hideout. Cairo traffic is difficult at any time of day or night.’

Maybe there was something to that business about auras. I could almost see the taut lines of tension crisscrossing the empty air like a cat’s cradle of coloured yarn. The strain of manipulating them was beginning to tell on John; his nonchalant pose hadn’t changed but his face was beaded with perspiration.

‘It sounds reasonable to me,’ Blenkiron said slowly. ‘So long as we have Tregarth, the others won’t risk – ’

‘You fools,’ Mary said suddenly. ‘Can’t you see what he’s doing?’

She had been standing quietly, hands folded and head bowed. It was her old pose of sweet submissiveness and the men, bless their chauvinist hearts, had dismissed her from consideration. But I had been afraid of this, and so had John. He straightened, taking his hands out of his pockets, but before he could speak Blenkiron said angrily, ‘Be still. You’ve already caused enough trouble.’

‘You sentimental idiot!’ She took a step forward. Her hands were empty, clasped and twisting. ‘Too fine-minded to hurt a woman, is that it? And you, Max, you’re getting soft too. I’m afraid I won’t be able to give you a favourable efficiency report on this job. Are you really stupid enough to let him hypnotize you into giving up the one thing that will force him to cooperate? I’ll show you how to get what you want. Hold on to him, Max.’

She didn’t wait to see him comply with her order. It would never have occurred to her that he might not.

Who needs a knife when she’s got diamonds? They are harder than steel. She had twisted the ring around and when her hand struck my face the stone opened up a long stinging cut.

When I opened my eyes John had her by the throat. I could see her mouth gaping in a struggle for air, her cheeks darkening.

Max hadn’t moved.

John could have snapped her neck with one twist of those long skilled hands. When he released his hold she crumpled bonelessly to the floor, but she was still alive. I heard the rattle of painfully drawn breath. John’s hands fell to his sides. I couldn’t see his face; his back was to me.

Max sighed. ‘You surprise me, Mr Tregarth. Mr Blenkiron, I think perhaps you had better run along.’

Larry’s features were drawn with disgust and horror. ‘Yes, yes, perhaps I had,’ he mumbled. ‘The boat will be in shortly; I’ll just go down to the dock and . . . You’ll make the – the arrangements, Max?’

‘Don’t concern yourself, Mr Blenkiron. I’ll handle everything.’

‘You’re a very competent man, Max. I leave everything in your hands. Vicky, I – uh – you’ll be fine. I hope we meet again under more – uh – pleasant circumstances.’

The door closed.

John turned. His colour was bad and perspiration trickled down his cheeks, but his voice was cool and ironic. ‘A pity we didn’t have a basin of water to offer him. Don’t do anything you might regret, Max. It’s over, you know.’

He stepped back, closer to me, as Max came towards him. ‘I know,’ Max said calmly. Stooping, he lifted the unconscions woman and carried her towards the bed. Instead of putting her down he went on, out onto the balcony. When he came back his arms were empty.

It was done with such quiet unhesitating efficiency I didn’t understand what had happened until John moved, violently and jerkily, and then jolted to a stop.

‘That’s settled,’ Max said. ‘I had hoped you would take care of it for me, but evidently I overestimated you. It doesn’t matter; the onus won’t rest on me. If you two will wait here for – oh, an hour should be long enough – you can proceed on your way. Whitbread has gone with Blenkiron, and Rudi and Hans will accompany me, so you need not worry about being disturbed.’

John cleared his throat. ‘You mean you – ’

‘I am a professional, Mr Tregarth, and I don’t underestimate your intelligence. When I learned that you and Herr Schmidt had reached Cairo unscathed I knew we had lost. He would, of course, go straight to the authorities. His reputation is such that they would be forced to listen to him and, however reluctantly, act on his accusations. They would be hammering at the door by this time if they weren’t hoping you could get Dr Bliss out safely.’

He waited for confirmation. John nodded dumbly. ‘So,’ Max went on, ‘I requested Mr Blenkiron to settle our outstanding account, and made plane reservations. He has not my experience; I fear the unfortunate man doesn’t realize that there will be a reception party waiting for that boat to dock.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I really must be off. Oh, do forgive me, Dr Bliss. No doubt Mr Tregarth would find it easier to release you if I returned his pocket knife.’

John had recovered enough to catch the knife, though his movements lacked their usual smoothness. ‘Thank you. I trust there won’t be any – onus – misdirected at me either?’

‘Only insofar as my employers are concerned.’ John started to protest and Max went on smoothly, ‘You must realize that I can’t accept the responsibility without incurring a reprimand, at the very least. I take pride in my record and don’t want to see it blemished. You are at liberty to tell the police whatever you choose. You needn’t worry about retribution; from a financial viewpoint this affair has been a success for us and we haven’t time to waste on personal grudges. We won’t bother you if you stay out of our way.’

‘That, I assure you, is my greatest ambition,’ John said. He had cut the ropes around my ankles. Now he moved behind me and freed my arms. I just sat there. Joining in that conversation would have strained even my gift of repartee.

‘And mine,’ Max said. ‘I don’t like you, Mr Tregarth. I hope never to see you again. Goodbye. Goodbye, Dr Bliss.’

‘Goodbye, Max,’ I said. ‘I can’t bring myself to thank you, but . . .’

‘You owe me nothing.’ He hesitated briefly, and then an odd little smile stretched his thin mouth. ‘I wish you good luck. If you gain what you clearly desire, you will need it.’

I sort of hoped that maybe, once we were alone, my hero, the man who had risked all to save me, would sweep me into his arms and hold me close, murmuring broken endearments the way they do in romantic novels. John just stood there string blank-faced at the closed door. So I got up all by myself. My legs seemed to be working all right, and I thought I was in full possession of my senses until I realized I was heading blindly for the balcony.

John caught my arm. ‘No, Vicky.’

‘She could be – ’

‘No.’

He touched my cheek. I had forgotten about the cut until his fingertip traced a line from my cheekbone to my jaw. I don’t know who moved first. His arms went around me with bruising strength, but he was shaking from head to foot and he didn’t resist when I guided his head onto my shoulder.

‘That’s more like it,’ I murmured. ‘John, don’t. You couldn’t have stopped him. He tried every trick in the book to get you to do it for him.’

‘He almost succeeded. God. It was so close. Too close . . .’

‘Kiss me.’

‘What? Oh. Right.’

‘Better now?’ I asked after a while. My voice wasn’t very steady.

Neither was his. ‘Yes, thank you, I am experiencing temporary relief. Suppose we postpone further treatment? I can’t stand this ghastly place much longer.’

‘Is it safe to leave?’

‘Oh, I should think so. Maxie’s a man of his word – when it suits him to keep it.’

‘Are we going to keep ours? To give him an hour?’

‘I didn’t give him my word. However, annoying Max would not be a sensible move on my part. I shan’t turn him in, but there’s no reason why we have to wait out the time here.’

‘Okay. Wait just a minute.’

The earrings were hard to see against the complex pattern of the rug. I finally found both of them. One of the wires was broken.

‘It can be repaired,’ said John, over my shoulder. ‘Though I shouldn’t think you’d want them now.’

‘Are you kidding? They’re the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.’

‘How did you know I meant them for you?’

‘She told me. That just made me want them more.’

‘Vindictive little creature, aren’t you?’

‘Vindictive, yes. Little, no.’ The light ran softly along the tiny golden faces. I closed my fingers carefully around them. ‘Over twenty centuries they have probably been in worse hands. And ears.’

The house was uncannily quiet and as eerie as a mausoleum. Dust covers shrouded most of the furniture and our footsteps echoed in the silence. It was hard for me to believe the place was really deserted; I kept expecting someone to jump out at us from the shadows huddling in those vast, high-ceilinged rooms. When we reached the door without meeting anyone John let out his breath.

‘There are television crews and newspaper reporters all around the house,’ he said. ‘I would offer to carry you out in a fainting condition, but appealing to the tender mercies of the press might not be as effective as making a run for it.’

‘We’ll run,’ I said. ‘I won’t even ask where.’

‘That’s an encouraging sign. Stay close.’

He put his arm around me and opened the door.

The limo was big and black and long. As we raced towards it, hotly pursued by assorted newspapers, the door opened. John tripped a reporter and pushed me into a pair of waiting arms.

‘Hi, Schmidt,’ I said. ‘I had a feeling you’d be here.’

When I woke next morning it wasn’t morning, but afternoon. I was lying on my side, facing the window, with my back to John. I could tell by his breathing he was still asleep, so I lay still, enjoying . . . enjoying the fact that I could hear him breathing and that I was doing the same.

The scenery wasn’t bad, though. Few hotels in the world can boast such view: the Great Pyramid of Giza, golden in the late sunlight, seeming so close it might have been right outside the bedroom window. Trust Schmidt to come up with the fanciest suite in one of the most elegant hotels in the country, on short notice and during the height of the tourist season.

We hadn’t arrived at Mena House until 4 a.m. Our first stop, at John’s insistence, had been at the hospital. The legal process which would clear Feisal might take some time, and the least we owed him and his family was to tell them at the earliest possible moment that it was under way.

It required a call to the minister to get us past the guards who were still on duty, and when I saw Feisal’s father I felt so sorry for him I couldn’t hold on to my anger. His mother was there too; they were sitting side by side on a hard bench in the corridor, and her arm was around his bowed shoulders. They both broke down when Schmidt told them the good news and everybody except John the imperturbable started crying and hugging one another indiscriminately. Feisal was under deep sedation, but when I kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear I think he heard me.

It had been John’s suggestion that I be allowed to see Feisal. (‘If anything can rouse him it will be a woman.’) When I suggested that so long as we were there he might let a doctor have a look at him, he glowered and made a pointed remark about other kinds of therapy, but with Schmidt’s assistance I managed to bully him into giving in. There would be time for another kind of therapy later. And I wanted to make sure he was in fit condition for it.

After that we had to talk with a lot of people who wanted answers to questions we hadn’t figured out how to answer yet, and I had to droop and pretend to feel poorly so they would let us go. And later . . . He was out cold the moment his head hit the pillow. That’s what you get for being thoughtful.

I changed position, trying to make as little noise as possible. His head was turned away; I could see only one side of his face and the curve of his cheek. I had always admired those cheekbones, but this one was too tightly shaped, and although his mouth was relaxed and his breathing even, a chill of superstitious terror ran through me when I saw how drawn his face was even in sleep.

The one visible eye opened. It held an expression of mild interest.

‘‘Oh, you’re awake,’ I said brightly.

‘I am now. You were breathing on me.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Are you? I’m not.’ He turned over and gathered me in.

‘The doctor said – ’

‘The subject was not mentioned. I carefully refrained from bringing it up.’

His lips moved from my temple to my ear and were heading south when I said, ‘I don’t think this is such a good idea. You look awful and you’re too thin and – ’

His lips touched mine and I threw caution to the winds and kissed him back so hard he let out a grunt.

‘I knew you didn’t mean it,’ he said complacently. ‘The men of my family are notoriously irresistible to women. Well, not my father; by all accounts, particularly those of my mother, he was a dull stick in every way. But Grandad was quite a lad in his time, and my great-grandfather has become something of a – ’

‘I don’t want to hear about your great-grandfather. I love you. Did I mention that?’

‘I wouldn’t object to hearing it again.’ But he held me off, and he was no longer smiling. ‘It took long enough to wring it out of you. What were you afraid of?’

There were too many answers to that question, some obvious, some not. He had to know most of them.

I tried to pass it off. ‘You know me. Independent, bull-headed – ’

‘And afflicted with bad dreams.’

‘Oh, God. Did I . . .’ I had. It was coming back to me. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘That’s all right. You stopped crying and babbling when I got hold of you. Was it the old nightmare?’

‘Yes. Uh – no. Not that one.’

‘I thought not. You went on like Lady Macbeth.’

‘Blood and . . . roses.’ I remembered now. So that was why I hadn’t woken completely. ‘How embarrassing. My subconscious isn’t awfully original.’

His mouth relaxed. ‘I am willing to overlook a few minor flaws in a woman who is so talented in other areas.’

‘Are you sure you feel up to . . . Damn it, don’t laugh! That wasn’t intentional.’

‘I shoutd hope not. Trite and vulgar.’

I was only conscious of the movements of his hands and lips until he started violently and lifted his head. ‘Oh, Christ! Isn’t that – ’

It could only be. Schmidt was humming like a drunken bumblebee. I didn’t recognize the tune. Nobody could have recognized the tune.

‘It’s all right,’ I murmured tenderly. ‘I locked the door.’

‘I can’t.’ He sounded like a nervous virgin. ‘Not with Schmidt out there. I haven’t fully recovered from the time he broke the door down just when I – ’

‘He was labouring under a slight misapprehension.’ I drew his head back to my breast. ‘He won’t break this door down. He’s very romantic’

‘Then he’ll be listening at the keyhole,’ John mumbled. ‘I’ve become very fond of the little imp but I draw the line at providing him with vicarious entertainment.’

‘Try to rise above it,’ I suggested.

‘That was deliberate. Well, perhaps with a little of the proper sort of encouragement . . .’

‘How’s this?’

‘A step in the right direction, certainly. Do go on.’

‘More precious than jewels, more precious than gold,’ I murmured. ‘John, if you don’t stop laughing, Schmidt will think we’re telling jokes and want to come in.’

I figured we could count on half an hour. It didn’t seem that long, but it was actually forty minutes later when Schmidt raised his voice to a level that could not be ignored, even by me. Trust Schmidt to select an appropriate air with which to serenade us. This one was about a cold-blooded hoodlum named Pretty Boy Floyd. Folk music, like Schmidt, glamorizes outlaws; according to the lyrics of the ballad, Pretty Boy was a misunderstood martyr who had given Christmas dinners to families on relief.

‘I’ll head him off,’ I said, removing myself from John and the bed, in that order. ‘Stay there and rest.’

‘I don’t need to rest. I was just getting warmed up. Are you going to put on some clothes or have you decided to reward Schmidt for refraining from kicking the door in?’

‘I don’t have any clothes,’ I said bitterly. ‘Except that filthy, wrinkled, disgusting outfit I have worn day and night for too long. I will not put it on. I’m going to burn it first chance I get and dance around the bonfire.’

‘Widdershins,’ John suggested. ‘Have a sheet, then. You don’t want to get the old chap too worked up.’

He watched interestedly as I wrapped the sheet around me and tried to figure out how to keep it there. ‘I’m afraid you haven’t got the hang of it. Why don’t you come over here and let me show you?’

‘Some other time.’

‘Excellent suggestion.’

Schmidt had enjoyed himself with ‘the room service.’ I’ve never seen such a spread – everything from pastries to salads and from coffee to champagne. And, of course, beer.

‘I did not know whether you would like breakfast or Mittagessen,’ he explained, pulling out a chair. ‘So I ordered both. How is Sir John? How do you feel? Did you have a pleasant time making – ’

‘Yes, thank you.’

‘You look very glamorous.’

I pushed my tangled hair back from my face. ‘I look very terrible. I don’t even have a comb. I need clothes, makeup, a toothbrush – ’

‘There is much to do,’ Schmidt said, around a mouthful of pâté. ‘We must organize ourselves.’

‘What’s happened since last night?’

‘I will wait to tell you until Sir John joins us. Perhaps I should go and – ’

‘No!’ I shoved Schmidt back into his chair. ‘He’ll be out in a minute.’

Knowing Schmidt, he was. He was more kempt than I, though he was wearing the same grubby clothes. After submitting with only a faint grimace to Schmidt’s embrace, he joined us at the table.

‘Eat, eat,’ Schmidt crooned. ‘And I will tell you the news.’

The Queen of the Nile had docked at midnight After the briefest of inspections the authorities had ordered the hold sealed, arrested the entire crew, including my shipmates Sweet and Bright, and carried a protesting Larry away.

‘Not to prison, though,’ Schmidt said. ‘It is a great embarrassmeut to all concerned. Not only is he an American citizen, but he is a powerful man with many friends. I do not know what will be done with him.’

‘Nothing,’ John said cynically. ‘At worst he’ll end up in an expensive nursing home till he recovers from his fit of temporary insanity. The fact that it went on for ten years will be tactfully ignored. What about the others?’

‘That is what we must discuss.’ Schmidt’s round face was unusually serious. ‘For you, my friend, are one of the others and even the dangers you have incurred in order to redeem your initial – er – error will not save you if the truth comes out. Feisal too must be cleared of blame. We are three intelligent people; I feel certain we can invent a scenario that will achieve those ends.’

If the situation hadn’t been so serious I would have enjoyed listening to those two concoct a plot. The greatest collaborators of fiction couldn’t have done better; Schmidt’s inventive imagination had been developed by years of reading sensational fiction, and John had always been the world’s champion liar.

Getting Feisal off the hook was the easiest part. He hadn’t been involved with the restoration of the tomb and he could reasonably claim he had suspected nothing until after Jean-Louis’s death. His activities thereafter warranted a medal, not a prison sentence. If all four of us told the same story and stuck to it, it would be hard to prove we were lying.

‘What about Larry?’ I asked.

‘It will be his word against ours,’ Schmidt began.

John shook his head. ‘Forget about Blenkiron. His wisest course is to say nothing and admit nothing. There will be a behind-the-scenes deal made, in order to avoid embarrassment all around. Egypt will get its treasures back and will accept with proper appreciation the gift of the Institute for Archaeological Research, and the blame will be placed on the shoulders of Max’s crowd – and on mine.’

‘No, no,’ Schmidt said energetically. ‘I have it all worked out, you wlll see.’

Max and the boys had made their getaway. Three men of their descriptions had boarded a plane to Zurich shortly before midnight and were now believed to be somewhere in Europe. A rather large territory.

‘They will not be caught this time,’ Schmidt said. ‘Which is all to the good. They will say nothing about you, John, and Blenkiron cannot accuse you without admitting things he will not wish to admit. So far as anyone else knows, you and Vicky met for the first time on the cruise. Neither of you had any reason to doubt Herr Blenkiron’s intentions until I expressed to you my suspicions – ’

‘Oh, so you’re going to take the credit for discovering the plot, are you?’ I inquired.

‘But I did discover it,’ said Schmidt.

‘Oh yeah?’ I caught John’s eye and smiled self-consciously. ‘I never did get around to asking you how much you knew, Schmidt. I assumed – ’

‘You assumed I was a stupid old man,’ said Schmidt calmly. ‘And you did not ask because you were crazy with fear for the man you – ’

‘I think that point has been made, Schmidt,’ I said. ‘So tell me now, okay?’

‘It was ratiocination of the most brilliant,’ Schmidt explained, twirling his moustache. ‘Though I will confess that the truth did not dawn until John told me that Herr Blenkiron was a criminal and that I must leave the house. Mind you, he told me no more than that. It was while I was eating my lunch at the hotel that I put the pieces together. The crime, I deduced, must be theft; for what other reason would Herr Blenkiron have in his employment a person like – er – like Herr Max? And what was it that a rich man could not buy, that he must steal it? The death of M. Mazarin was the ultimate clue. He was killed, not by the explosion but by a bullet. A confidence, that the only one to die was the man who had directed the reconstruction of the tomb? I did not, think so. And when I remembered the way in which the reconstruction was carried out, and the sudden ending to the tour, and all the other suspicious circumstances . . . Voilà Eureka! So you see it spells Fröhliche Weihnachten; we are heroes, and everyone will live happily ever after.’

Exhausted by this creative effort, he paused to eat a croissant.

‘Very well done, Schmidt,’ John said, ‘but you’ve overlooked one little detail. Vicky has already dutifully informed her mysterious superiors – and thereby, I feel certain, Interpol and every police department in Europe – that I am the dashing Robin Hood of crime they have sought so long in vain.’

Schmidt choked, emitting a fine spray of crumbs. ‘Vicky! Did you do that? How could you?’

John gave me a kindly smile. ‘I don’t hold it against you, darling. You will wait for me, won’t you? Seven to ten years should do it, unless they make the sentences consecutive, in which case you may have to hire a wheelchair when you meet me at the prison gates.’

‘No, I’ll hire Max and Hans to break you out. I’ve always wanted to be a moll.’

‘A what?’ Schmidt demanded.

‘Gun moll,’ I said abstractedly. ‘Like Bonnie and Clyde.’

‘It is not amusing,’ Schmidt grumbled. ‘How can you joke about such a disaster, such a tragedy – ’

‘Shut up, Schmidt. Just let me think. I told . . . That’s right, I told Sweet and Bright. They knew anyway, they’re part of the gang, nobody is going to believe . . . And Larry Blenkiron.’

‘And?’ John had stiffened.

‘That’s all. Oh, damn. The tapes. They’ve got the tapes. But you didn’t say anything – ’

‘They don’t have the tapes. Feisal picked them up and handed them over to Larry. I was there when he destroyed them. You’re sure you didn’t mention me to anyone else?’

‘I didn’t tell Alice. She was the only person who identified herself to me. I don’t know to this day who the other agent on board was, if there was one. Am I a great spy or what?’

‘I can’t believe this,’ John muttered. ‘It’s too easy. There must be something we’ve overlooked.’

‘Very good,’ Schmidt said. He gave me a forgiving smile. ‘I should have known that in the struggle between love and duty your heart would triumph over your – ’

‘Shut up, Schmidt,’ I said.

‘So then, how does it stand?’ Schmidt bit into a pastry and chewed ruminating. ‘I see only one remaining difficulty. Are you prepared, John, to play the grieving husband? For if her part in this comes out it will be the knot that unravels the tangled skein of the truth.’

‘Very literary, Schmidt,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what the hell it means but it sounds good.’

‘It is obvious, what it means,’ Schmidt said indignantly. ‘The forced marriage, his knowledge of the plot, his earlier connection with her brothers – all these things will become known, together with your acquaintance with John, and your reputation, my dear Vicky, will be in ruins.’

‘Do you think I care about my reputation?’

‘I care,’ John said shortly. ‘Honestly, Vicky, I’m beginning to worry about you. Anyhow, Schmidt is right; the whole implausible story hangs on her innocence. Unless . . . How about claiming I was unaware of her criminal connections when I married her? They aren’t exactly public knowledge.’

‘But how could you have remained unaware of them?’ Schmidt didn’t like this version; he saw where it was leading, and he wanted the credit for unearthing the plot.

John grinned at him. ‘That’s the point, isn’t it? I’ll leave the medals to you, Schmidt. I don’t doubt that Max and his employers will appreciate our keeping her name out of it. That’s another consideration. So when I marched in there last night I was hoping to rescue her as well as Vicky?’

‘Yes, yes, that is it,’ Schmidt said eagerly. ‘The villains foully murdered her. Both of you saw it.’

‘No,’ John said. ‘She was dead when I arrived. Vicky saw nothing.’

‘That is easier, yes,’ Schmidt agreed. ‘The less one admits to knowing, the fewer lies there are to remember. Do you find any other holes in the plan?’

‘Not at the moment,’ I said. I couldn’t believe it either.

‘Good. Then we will go shopping.’ Schmidt scraped crumbs off his moustache and bounced up. ‘You cannot come, Vicky, not wrapped in a bedsheet, so I will select for you a suitable wardrobe.’

‘Oh, God. See here, Schmidt – ’

‘I’ll go along,’ John said. ‘And try to control Schmidt. I believe I can claim to have a reasonably good idea of your size.’

He was smiling as if he didn’t have a care in the world. But he hadn’t eaten much and he had never spoken her name.