Page 100
For a moment she stared up into the burning sky, and then her eyes appeared to roll up in her head. Only a half-moon of pale iris showed.
"Ramses," she whispered. Her bosom moved faintly with her breathing. But otherwise she lay still.
The Earl turned and reached for Malenka. Leaning heavily on her, he struggled back towards the chair. He could feel the dark-skinned woman trembling. He settled down silently on the tapestried cushions, and rested his head against the high rounded chair back of prickly rattan. This is all a nightmare, he thought. But it was not a nightmare. He had seen this creature raised from the dead. He had seen her kill Henry. What in God's name was he to do?
Malenka remained at his elbow, then went down slowly on her knees. Her eyes were wide and empty, her mouth agape. She stared towards the garden.
Flies circled over Henry's face. They swooped down on the remnants of the overturned meal.
"There, there, nothing will harm you," Elliott whispered. The burning in his chest subsided very slowly. He felt a dull warmth in his left hand. "She won't hurt you. I promise you." He moistened his dry lips with his tongue, then somehow managed to go on. "She is ill; and I must take care of her. She will not harm you, you understand."
The Egyptian woman clutched at his wrist, her forehead against the arm of the chair. After a long moment, she spoke.
"No police," she pleaded in a barely audible voice. "No English take my house."
"No," Elliott murmured. "No police. We don't want the police."
He wanted to pat her head, but he could not bring himself to move. He stared dully out into the sunlight, at the prone creature, her glossy black hair spread out in the sunlight; and at the dead man.
"I take care of ..." the woman whispered. "I take my English away. No police come."
Elliott didn't understand her. What was she saying? Then slowly it dawned on him.
"You can do this?" he said under his breath.
"Yes, I do this. Friends come. Take English away."
"Yes, all right then." He sighed and the pain in his chest intensified. Tentatively he pushed his right hand into his pocket and brought out his money clip. Barely able to move his left fingers, he took out two ten-pound notes.
"For you," he said. He closed his eyes again, exhausted by the effort. He felt the money taken from his hand. "But you must be careful. You must tell no one what you saw."
"I tell no one. I take care of ... This is my house. My brother give."
"Yes, I understand. I shall be here only a little while. That I promise you. I shall take the woman with me. But for now, you will be patient, and there'll be more money, much more." Once again he looked at the money clip. He peeled the notes off without counting and forced them into her hand.
Then he lay back again, and closed his eyes. He heard her pad softly across the carpet. Then her hand touched him again.
When he looked up he saw her draped in black, and she held another folded black robe in her hand.
"You cover," she whispered. And with her eyes, she gestured to the courtyard.
"I cover," he whispered. And closed his eyes again.
"You cover!" he heard her say desperately. And again he said that he would.
With great relief he heard her go out, and shut the door to the street.
In the long flowing Bedouin robes, Ramses walked through the museum, among the milling tourists, peering ahead through the dark glasses at the empty space at the end of the corridor where the display case had stood. No sign that it had ever been there! No broken glass, no splintered wood. And the vial he had dropped. Gone.
But where could she be! What happened to her! In anguish, he thought of the soldiers who'd surrounded him. Had she fallen into their hands?
He walked on, turning the corner, eyes moving over the statues and the sarcophagi. If he had known misery like this ever in all these centuries, he could not remember it now. He had no right to be walking here with men and women, to be breathing the same air.
He could not think where to go or what to do. If he did not discover something soon, he would go completely mad.
Perhaps a quarter of an hour passed, maybe less. Cover her, yes. No, get her out of the garden before the men come. She lay in the sun, stuporous, now and then murmuring in her sleep.
Gripping his walking stick, he rose to his feet. There was feeling in his left leg again, and that meant there was pain.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100 (Reading here)
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152
- Page 153
- Page 154
- Page 155
- Page 156
- Page 157
- Page 158
- Page 159
- Page 160
- Page 161
- Page 162
- Page 163
- Page 164
- Page 165