The Khamsin Curse Read online
Page 18
“First and third chamber,” said Gideon, “because the stones were already here.”
“The blocks were then spaced for the height of the men,” finished Moriarty, visualizing the bodies laid out on the stone floor, “before they were dragged here and tied down.”
Moran nodded. That was the first thing that made sense. Not much else made sense. First the crocodiles in the Kiosk. And then the Pashtun ritual. He looked dubiously at the bean-counter. Why would a bean-counter spend all night searching for his weapon? Why not just borrow one from the gun cabinet on the ship? That must be where he got the Smith & Wesson. So, once again, why spend all night searching for a Webley?
“We still haven’t found the body of Jurgen Graf,” reminded Moran. “I ran into Ali Pasha and Azrafel before coming here. They hadn’t come across his body either. If he’s been killed in the same manner it puts a different slant on motive.”
“How so?” asked Moriarty.
“If Jurgen Graf is dead it makes the murders about archaeology, or should I say skulduggery. Rivalry between archaeologists is big business. There’s a lot of money to be made selling artifacts, especially fake ones.”
Gideon expanded on Moran’s reasoning, surprised to find himself in agreement with a career criminal. “That would put Ali Pasha in the frame.”
The Countess nodded in the affirmative. “Jefferson Lee owed him money. He came to Philae hoping to get paid.”
Gideon recalled seeing Ali Pasha at the papyrus workshop in Luxor. “Ali Pasha must be involved in the trade of fake artifacts and Mallisham found out about it and threatened to expose him. Lee may simply have been in the wrong place at the wrong time as I pointed out earlier.”
“No,” said the Countess. “Two murders were planned here from the start. Double everything,” she reiterated. “However, it brings to mind the matter of Herr Graf’s brother. Rhinehart Graf committed suicide because he sold fake artifacts to a German museum. If Mallisham was involved and Herr Graf wanted to avenge his brother, he could not have done a better job of it. Though, I admit, that theory doesn’t explain the death of Jefferson Lee.”
Moran was still thinking about the missing German. “We’re presuming Jurgen Graf is still alive. If he is alive, questions have to be asked as to where he was all night. He seems a more likely suspect than Ali Pasha simply because he was here in the afternoon and could have set up the eight blocks of stone.”
Gideon nodded. “If Herr Graf is alive it would link the murders to archaeology. In other words, they’re not personal, or as the Countess pointed out, related to humiliation, but let’s not forget this island is a sacred site. When I was visiting the construction site yesterday there was a lot of rumbling among the workforce about the arrival of the Sekhmet. Some of the natives don’t appreciate Mallisham poking his nose into their temples and they don’t appreciate Lee using the island for a birthday party.”
Moriarty gave a dismissive snort. “They’re not going to kill two men on that basis.”
The Countess disagreed. “Think how the people of England would feel if the Pasha of Tripoli decided to hold a fancy-dress party for his cousin inside Westminster Abbey - I bet a lot of British subjects would call for his head to be stuck on a pike on London Bridge. Which brings me to the next point: Should we untie the bodies and remove the sticks from their throats before the stretcher bearers arrive?”
The three men quickly got to work. They agreed it would not do for anyone to see a British subject and a prominent American citizen murdered in the Pashtun tradition.
Dr Watson arrived shortly after they had finished tidying up the murder scene. He had brought two deck chairs and a dozen stretcher bearers. He was momentarily confused when he saw the bodies neatly laid out in the courtyard, ready for transporting, and clearly delighted to see his female counterpart in the flesh, albeit looking desirably deshabillee.
He recounted the story of finding Herr Graf by the girdle wall. The German was currently sleeping soundly.
Moran swore a few oaths then decided to return to his campsite.
Moriarty was about to return to his boat, hopefully still hidden in the reeds, when Gideon forestalled him.
“I have a favour to ask?” he said.
Moriarty had been expecting some sort of rebuke for sneaking off with the Countess, possibly an order to stay away from the island. “Favour?”
“Someone needs to remove the dead crocodiles from the Kiosk. If the crew members of the Sekhmet do it, or even the workers at the dam, word will spread about what happened. I think it might be best if we restrict knowledge of what happened to those who were present. Rumours will spread of course. We can’t trust Ali Pasha to stay quiet. But it will be his word against…”
“I see,” said Moriarty, cutting him off, “you want my men to clear the pit of reptiles?”
“Yes.”
“Consider it done.”
Smiling, Gideon led the stretcher bearers back to the Sekhmet.
15
Born Evil
The one thing they had not discussed in front of Colonel Sebastian Moran was how the two murders could be related to the business that had brought them to Egypt in the first place.
Was it possible that Mallisham and Lee were involved in passing secret information to the enemy? But then who had killed them if not a British agent? The Germans would not have killed off their own secret agent. Nor would they have killed off an American cattle baron unless they had good reason. And why would a wealthy cattle king want to involve himself in a war in South Africa? It made no sense.
Painfully aware that time was of the essence and that she had been holed up with Jim while the murders were taking place, the Countess quizzed Dr Watson about his recollection of the events of the night before.
She was also painfully aware that once they reached the Sekhmet with the two dead bodies, the investigation would fall to the Acting High Commissioner, a man either woefully incompetent or pitifully corrupt. If he was open to bribery then he would be unlikely to hold an honest investigation; if he was incompetent and on the verge of nervous breakdown, then he would be unlikely to be vigorous and thorough.
The Countess caught Dr Watson’s sleeve.
“I want to talk to you in private before we return to the Sekhmet. Give me a drink from your canteen and we can pretend to fall behind.”
He passed her his water bottle.
“According to Gideon,” she said between mouthfuls of water, “you walked back to the Sekhmet last night with Hayter and Ali Pasha. I want to establish who was where during the murder and if anyone could have slipped away unnoticed. I want to reconstruct the crime in the short time we have before Hayter takes over and makes a botch of it.”
So much for the praise he had heaped on Hayter the evening they first arrived in Cairo. He winced at the memory. The change in the man he once respected had been a greater shock than the two dead bodies he had seen this morning. “Yes, the three of us set off straight after Mallisham and Lee. They were escorting Miss Lee. Within minutes of leaving the Kiosk I lost sight of everyone.”
“Ali Pasha too?”
“I couldn’t see him but I sensed him trailing after me for a short time. It wasn’t until I reached the Temple of Hathor that I realized he was no longer following. I stepped into the temple to get out of the wind. Miss Lee was in there on her own. She was distressed, sobbing violently, something about hearing cries for help, and her father and the professor going off and leaving her. I tried vainly to comfort her, to reassure her they would return any moment, though I didn’t really believe it. I waited for an unknown length of time. She was getting more and more agitated. I convinced her to come with me.”
“You stayed with her all the way to the ship?”
“Yes. I clung to her fairly tightly. She was stumbling about and falling over. In the end, I practically carried her.”
“You didn’t bump into any of the others?”
“No, it was impossible to see more than a few feet
. I knew the wind was coming from the east. I thought if I kept the pellets of sand and grit to the right-hand side of my body I would eventually get to the Arc of Diocletian. At least, that’s what I hoped. When I saw the lights of the ship, I can tell you, I was relieved.”
“You didn’t see Hayter at all after you left the Kiosk?”
He shook his head grimly. “I spotted him trailing blindly after Mallisham and Lee. I figured he’d get lost fairly quickly. I immediately went after him and intended to stick to him like glue, but short of holding his hand it was impossible to keep track of him. We parted ways almost at once and I didn’t see him again after that.”
“What about Ali Pasha? Did you glimpse him at all along the way?”
“No, not at all.”
“When you got back to the ship did you check to see if Hayter or Ali Pasha had returned ahead of you?”
Guiltily, he bit his lip. In hindsight it was always clear what should have been done. “I should have,” he admitted ruefully, “but I was busy trying to calm Miss Lee until her lady's maid could be summoned. Azrafel had crew members standing by waiting to help people up the gangway and into the saloon where he had tea and coffee laid out on the sideboard. I grabbed a whiskey from the drinks trolley and went to my cabin. I was in a bit of a daze. If anyone was in the saloon I cannot say I even noticed. The room is fairly large and there were shadows everywhere. My head was spinning. Fedir and Xenia were frantic with worry about you and badgering me but I assured them you were with a British soldier and Mr Longshanks - because that’s what I presumed - and that you would be perfectly safe. This morning when I woke up and had a quick sponge bath, and discovered you had still not returned to the ship, I experienced mild panic, but oddly or not, when I discovered that three men hadn’t made it back, meaning Mallisham, Lee and Graf, I actually felt reassured. I told myself you had probably taken shelter in the Temple of Hathor with them and would return as soon as the wind died down. When Gideon returned without you, I started to panic again. He told me you were with Moriarty. I thought I recognized him last night in that uniform, but the unreality of the night played havoc with my senses. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it was him or not. I didn’t recognize the uniform and I pride myself on knowing every regiment at a glance. I was probably worried more about Hayter than anyone else when I left the Kiosk. I was sure he’d get lost and do himself a serious injury. I know it is foolish to worry about a chap who is unworthy but there it is. I once had a lot of respect for the man.”
“He was on the ship this morning when you went into the saloon?”
“Yes, he was wearing his dressing gown. His feet were slipperless and he didn’t appear to have any pyjamas on underneath. He looked a mess. I presumed he’d collapsed into bed naked as had I. It wasn’t the sort of night where you care about things like pyjamas and slippers or anything else. He was helping himself to a gin and tonic. I can tell you I was ropeable. I wanted to give him a good shake and a punch on the nose. Hypatia was being hysterical. Three men were missing. You hadn’t yet returned. Things were going to pieces. And the Acting High Commissioner was having gin for breakfast!”
She moved right along; she had no sympathy for the doctor’s ex-army chum. “How was Ali Pasha when you saw him this morning?”
“He was already in the saloon. He was smoking a cigar and drinking coffee. He looked the worst for wear, meaning he looked as if he’d slept in the chair all night, which apparently he had. He didn’t have much to say. I got the impression he was regretting gate-crashing the party. I mean, what man wouldn’t? He’d almost gotten himself killed fending off crocodiles! He didn’t look too concerned about all the morning’s brouhaha. He looked tired and bored and probably couldn’t wait to return to wherever he was staying.”
“Yet he stayed to help with the search for the missing men?”
“Moran made it clear that skipping off wasn’t an option. He roped him in along with Azrafel, who sort of volunteered when he realized they needed an extra man to make pairs.”
“Did Moran draw up the maps?”
“Yes, he drew them up on napkins during breakfast and marked the areas he wanted us to search. He paired himself with Hayter, which I thought was mighty decent of him since Hayter was more of a liability than a help. I was relieved to find myself paired with Gideon. And just as well. If Hayter had come across those dead bodies I cannot imagine what he would have made of them. Not that there were any clues – no cigarette stubs or scraps of torn fabric or footsteps in the dust – but he would probably have interfered with the bodies. What did you make of them?”
He stopped in his tracks and squinted into the sun which was sitting high in the northern sky. They were south of the equator and it was the opposite of what he was used to in England. She would have been used to it in Australia of course. He offered her another drink then squeezed out the last for drop himself.
“Well?” he prompted, slinging the strap of the empty canteen back around his neck. “I can honestly say I have not seen anything like it. It shook me badly and when Gideon suggested I go back to the ship to summon help I was glad to get away. The physical exercise did my head a favour.”
She was gazing, not after the party of stretcher bearers, but further west where the girdle wall petered out. “Let’s go this way,” she suggested, “and I’ll tell you as we go.”
He protested; the last thing they needed was a detour in the opposite direction. “Don’t you want to get back to the ship? It’s midday. Lunch will be served shortly. I hardly ate breakfast and I’m guessing you haven’t had anything since last night.”
“Yes,” she conceded, “I’m starting to feel hungry. I can feel my appetite returning. But Moran claimed he and Lorna Baxter took shelter in the Temple of Harendotes all night. I want to see if they left any clues behind. Now is the best time to check. He’s gone back to his campsite and she is still on the ship. No one will disturb us. It won’t take long.”
“Very well,” he agreed, swallowing his pride and trying to hide bitter rancour. What the attractive American widow saw in the bony, old, murderous colonel mystified him. Come to think of it, what the Countess saw in the other Irish colonel mystified him too. He didn’t want to think about how Moriarty might have taken advantage of her during the night. Gideon Longshanks was handsome, courageous, decent and a baronet. There was no contest as far as he was concerned.
They veered toward the small ruin that sat overlooking the western shore, just to the right of Hadrian’s Gate. Gideon and the stretcher bearers receded into the heat haze, getting further and further away from them, like a mirage melting into the landscape.
“You asked me what I thought about the bodies?” she said. “I was shocked too. The interesting thing was that Moran knew exactly what had happened. He had come across it in Afghanistan. He called it Golden Rain. It is apparently a custom common to Pashtun women.”
The doctor slapped the side of his head. “Of course! Golden Rain! I’ve heard the phrase! I’ve never seen it but I was told it was an ancient form of punishment meted out to captured enemy soldiers. Yes, it is done specifically by women. A very humiliating and painful death. Do you think we are dealing with women here?”
“Anything is possible. It could be that a woman did the deed. But she would have needed help securing the two victims. A man who is unconscious or semi-conscious is not easy to move into place. Those blocks of stone were heavy too. Someone must have moved them into place prior to the victims being tied down. It must have been done either before we arrived on Philae or that afternoon when we went for a walk with Mallisham, after which everyone parted ways to go back to the ship at their leisure.”
“Hmm, yes, everyone went off in different directions. I went to check the nilometer with Jefferson Lee.”
“And I walked the length of the colonnade to the end of the island with Gideon then came back via the nilometer and bumped into you and Lee at Hadrian’s Gate and we all waked back together. So where did the others go?”
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“Hayter fell behind fairly quickly. I don’t think he even followed us into the Inner Courtyard.”
“I saw him sitting on a stone block by the guardian lions at the first pylon. He was with Herr Graf. But that was later when I had walked to the end of the colonnade with Gideon and turned back to take in the perspective.”
“I didn’t see Lorna Baxter. I thought she was following Mr Lee and myself but when I paused and turned around to allow her to catch up she had gone.”
“I saw Ursula and Daisy going off together. They were going back through the Inner Courtyard to the other side.”
“I saw Hypatia going off with Mallisham but that’s no surprise. I don’t know what direction they went. Later, I saw Moran hanging around the girdle wall. He looked like he was keeping tabs on us or on someone in particular.” He thought it might have been Mrs Baxter but he bit his tongue.
They reached the Temple of Harendotes and slipped inside. It was a private sanctuary, closed on four sides but roofless, same as most of the structures on Philae. Colonel Moran had chosen a good place to hide out of the wind, and if it was privacy he wanted, he had that too. Several cigarette butts littered the ground in the far corner. They were fresh. Moran must have been telling the truth.
“If you are thinking of discounting him from murder,” said Dr Watson sternly, “you can think twice. He would have had ample time to set up those stone blocks beforehand.”
“What about Lorna Baxter? Are you saying she was in on it?”
He got his back up at once. “No, of course not! He could have left Mrs Baxter inside the temple. He might have made up an excuse for her stay inside while he went to check on something. He could have said he heard a noise or that he needed to relieve himself and that he got lost afterwards. Or he could have waited until she fell asleep.”
“But how did he lure the two men to their death?”
Dr Watson did not need to think for long. “Remember when I said Hypatia said she heard someone calling for help and Mallisham went off and then Lee followed, well he must have lured them then.”