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"And what is your relationship to this Miss Bektul?"
"She's provided funding and general support for several of my excavations in Ethiopia."
"Ethiopia? Never heard much about mummies being unearthed in Ethiopia."
"Africa is a grand and mysterious place, good sir. A place whose full history has yet to be discovered."
"I see." The detective's brusque dismissal suggested he did not wish to see much of Africa at all. Perhaps he recalled the great defeat Ethiopia had delivered to the Italians years before and thought them an imminent threat to the British Empire. "And where is she now?"
"She's taken a room at Claridge's. You see, she'd planned to lodge with us at our home in Mayfair. But after all the stress, she desired privacy. She will be happy to answer your questions there, should you have any."
The truth was different, of course.
Bektaten had reserved the room shortly before Ramses and Julie had departed Cornwall, and solely to give foundation to this cover story. And her alias, Abeba Bektul, was one of many, and different from the one she'd used to lease the castle. She did not wish to remain completely invisible if her participation was required, but she had no desire to host strangers so near to her garden. Thankfully, having lived many lives on different continents, she had no shortage of aliases she could use should this investigation turn its focus to her.
"Not sure there's any need as of yet," the detective answered, "so long as you can vouch for her good character."
"We most certainly can," Julie added.
"If we wish to question her, we'll be in touch with you then. Will she return to Ethiopia soon?"
"No," Ramses offered, "she'd planned a long stay to begin with. After what she's been through, after what we've all been through, she has no desire to take to the high seas anytime soon."
"Very well, then." The detective cleared his throat. "So it appears now, as it did before, we are in search of a theft. In the two days since we've begun our investigation, no further details as to these missing guests have been brought to our attention, I'm afraid. And while I can assure you it's almost impossible to investigate a murder without a body, when no loved ones or friends or even acquaintances of the missing step forward, well...it's impossible to investigate nothing at all. So if the constabulary is to continue in this matter, it will have to do so as if this is a theft."
"Or a poisoning," Edith said, "but of us. Clearly, we were given something that made us hallucinate. It must have been in the champagne!"
"Perhaps, miss," the detective said, "but I'm afraid that in the panic, the champagne was spilled and the glasses smashed underfoot. We couldn't recover a single intact glass anywhere on the property, and all the open bottles had been dispensed."
"Well, then it's the most perfect and befuddling plot that ever was." Edith tossed her hands in the air and let them thud to the blanket on either side of her. Julie couldn't help but smile. There was energy and vitality in this simple gesture, a sign that Edith would soon be free of this clinic and back to her old self. "Why we couldn't have all seen butterflies and rainbows is beyond me. Why did we all have to see something so truly wretched? But then again, I'm not a professional poisoner or thief, so perhaps it's just beyond me."
There was a ripple of laughter in the room.
Alex did not join in.
"It is rather odd, though, isn't it?" Alex's focus seemed to be entirely on Julie, even as he addressed the room. "That we would all hallucinate almost precisely the same thing."
"Odd doesn't even begin to describe it, I'm afraid," the detective said. "But just so you're aware, we continue to take this seriously. The constabulary will be consulting several illusionists over the next few days. Perhaps they'll tell us how a trick like this might have been accomplished through the marriage of some physical magic act and a drug, as the countess suggests. I do ask, however, that you keep that information from the press. For all of our sakes. It isn't the easiest thing. Police seeking help from...magicians."
A polite exchange of goodbyes followed. But Julie found herself unable to take her eyes off Alex. Was he in some sort of shock? Had his condition gone undiagnosed as the medical professionals present rushed to give their full attention to his mother, the countess?
"It was so dear of you both to drive all this way," Edith said.
Julie clasped the woman's hand. "After what you've had to endure on our behalf, Edith. I can't..."
The words failed her, and she felt the touch of Ramses' hand on her shoulder. Did he fear she'd say too much?
"We'll return to London as soon as we can," Edith said. "I can't bring myself to visit the estate just yet. As for Elliott, well, he sent another enormous sum of money from somewhere. I've lost complete track of where he is."
"Surely he'll come home when he hears of all this," Alex said crossly. "As soon as I have a new address."
"Don't be annoyed with your father, Alex," said Edith. "He needs this time to himself. And every time I turn around, it seems, the bank is calling to let us know of another deposit. Fortune has certainly smiled on him, wherever he is, and he shares that good fortune with his family, perhaps more than he enjoys it himself."
"I'm sorry, Mother." He mirrored Julie now, standing on the opposite side of the bed, taking Edith's other hand. "It's been an exhausting few days."
But he didn't seem exhausted, Julie thought. He seemed dazed, perhaps a little drunk. Strangely relaxed. And when he caught Julie studying him intently, he gave her a knowing smile.
"It has," Edith whispered, returning Alex's grip and then Julie's in turn. "It most certainly has. And you've been a wonderful son throughout all of it."
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