Crocodile on the Sandbank (21 page)

Authors: Elizabeth Peters

Tags: #Historical fiction, #Detective and mystery stories, #Mystery fiction, #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Historical, #Suspense, #Crime & mystery, #Political, #Women detectives - Egypt, #Peabody, #Amelia (Fictious character), #Crime & Thriller, #Mummies, #Peabody, #Amelia (Fictitious character), #Egyptology, #Cairo (Egypt), #Mystery, #Detective, #Women detectives, #Emerson, #Radcliffe (Fictitious character), #Mystery & Detective - Women Sleuths, #Archaeologists' spouses, #Mystery & Detective - General, #Egypt, #Fiction - Mystery

"I can't bear it," Evelyn whispered; and then, as I started to speak,
she added, "No, Amelia, it is not what you think; I admire, I like
Lucas; after his courage tonight, I can hardly help but respect him.
But my grief at his illness is that of a friend and cousin. Only— I am
beginning to feel as if I brought disaster on all those who love me. Am
I somehow accursed? Must I leave those I love, lest I infect them, as
my coming brought harm to Walter— and now to poor Lucas? Must I leave
you, Amelia?"
"Don't talk nonsense," I replied brusquely. Harshness was the only
proper response to the rising hysteria in the child's voice. "Go and
fetch my smelling salts. If they are as strong as I remember, they
ought to bring Lucas to his senses. They almost deprived me of mine."
Evelyn nodded. I could always command her by appealing to her sense of
duty. As she turned, I was electrified by the first sign of life I had
seen in my patient. His lips parted. In a low, sighing voice, he
enunciated a single word.
"He calls your name," I said to Evelyn, who had paused. "Come quickly;
answer him."
Evelyn knelt down by the bed. "Lucas," she said. "Lucas, I am here.
Speak to me."
Lucas's hand moved. It groped feebly. Evelyn put her hand on his; the
fingers closed around hers and clung.
"Evelyn," Lucas repeated. "My darling ..."
"I am here," Evelyn repeated. "Can you hear me, Lucas?"
The sick man's head moved slightly. "So far away," he murmured, in a
failing voice. "Where are you, Evelyn? Don't leave me. I
am all alone in the dark., .."
Evelyn leaned over him. "I won't leave you, Lucas. Wake up, I implore
you. Speak to us."
"Take my hand. Don't let me wander away.. I am lost without you.. . ."
This banal exchange continued for some time, with Lucas's weak voice
pleading and Evelyn reassuring him. I shifted impatiently from one foot
to the other. I suspected that Lucas was now fully conscious.
He was
certainly not delirious in the ordinary sense of the word. Only
congential stupidity could have produced such inane dialogue. Finally
Lucas got to the point. His eyes were still closed.
"Don't leave me," he moaned. "Never leave me, my love, my hope. Promise
you will never leave me."
Evelyn was bending so close that her unbound hair brushed his cheek.
Her face was transformed by pity, and I rather hated to disillusion
her, but I was not sure what she might promise in the heat of her
innocent enthusiasm. If she made a promise, she would keep it. And I
was determined that matters should proceed according to the plan I had
conceived. So I said briskly, "He is coming around now, Evelyn. Are you
going to promise to marry him, or shall we try the smelling salts
first?"
Evelyn sat back on her heels. Her face was flushed. Lucas opened his
eyes.
"Evelyn," he said slowly— but in his normal, deep tones, not the
moaning
whisper he had been using.
"It is really you? I dreamed. God preserve
me from any more such dreams!"
"Thank God," Evelyn said sincerely. "How do you feel, Lucas? We were so
frightened for you."
"A little weak; otherwise, quite all right. It was your voice that
brought me back, Evelyn; I seemed to be disembodied, lost and alone in
a dark without a single spark of light. Then I heard you arrive and
followed it as I would follow a beacon."
"I am glad I could help you, Lucas."
"You saved my life. Henceforth it is yours."
Evelyn shook her head shyly. She was trying to free her hand; and after
a moment Lucas let it go.
"Enough of this," I interposed. "I am not so much interested in your
dreams, Lucas, as I am in what produced them. What happened? I saw you
stumble and fall, but I could swear the creature did not
throw any
missile."
"Nothing struck me," Lucas answered. "Nothing physical— You found no
bruise, no mark, I suppose?"
He glanced down at his bared chest. Blushing still more deeply, Evelyn
got to her feet and retreated from the bed.
"There was no mark I could see," I replied. "What did you feel?"
"Impossible to describe it! I can only imagine that a man struck by a
bolt of lightning might have a similar sensation. First a shocking
thrill, electrical in intensity; then utter weakness and
unconsciousness. I felt myself falling, but did not feel my body strike
the deck."
"Splendid," I said sarcastically. "We now have a creature with the
power to hurl thunderbolts. Emerson will be delighted to hear it"
"Emerson's opinions are of no interest to me," Lucas said.

* * *

I slept soundly for what remained of the night. I believe Evelyn did
not sleep at all. When I awoke it was to see the exquisite pink flush
of dawn staining the sky, and Evelyn silhouetted against it. She was
standing at the window; she was fully dressed, in a businesslike serge
skirt and blouse. The moment I moved, she spoke.
"I am going to camp," she announced firmly. "You need not come, Amelia;
I will be back soon, I will hurry. I hope to persuade Mr. Emerson to
bring his brother here, and to set sail at
once for Luxor. But if they will not come, then— then I think we should
go. I know you will not want to leave, Amelia; I have seen how
interested you are in— in archaeology. But I think Lucas will go, if I
ask him; and I shall leave, with him, if you want to remain here."
The sight of her pale, resolute face checked the remonstrance that had
risen to my lips. I saw that I must speak with careful consideration.
The girl believed the awful idea that had come to her the previous
night! It was both pitiful and amusing to note that she had no qualms
about burdening Lucas with her deadly presence, as she thought it, when
it came to a choice between endangering Lucas or Walter.
"Well," I said, getting out of bed, "you will not go without breakfast,
I hope. It would be silly to faint, from inanition, in the middle of
the desert."
Evelyn unwillingly consented to partake of breakfast. As she restlessly
paced the upper deck, I sent a servant to summon Lucas. It was easy to
see how the events of the night had affected the crew. Young Habib, our
smiling waiter, was not smiling that morning; and the usual cheerful
babble of voices from the lower deck was not to be heard.
Lucas joined us while we were drinking our tea. He looked perfectly
fit, and said he felt the same. Evelyn immediately told him of her
plan. Lucas was not fool enough to fail to understand her agitation.
His eyebrows climbed alarmingly as she spoke. In case he should miss
the point I kicked him under the table. And when he turned to me
indignantly, I semaphored warning as well as I could. He took the hint.
"My dearest," he said gently, "if you wish to leave this place, you
shall leave. I told you that your slightest wish was my command. But I
must make one small reservation. You can ask me for my life, but not
for my honor as a gentleman and an Englishman! You cannot ask me to
abandon our friends. No, do not speak; I will order the crew to be
prepared to leave at a moment's notice, and to carry you and Miss
Amelia to Luxor, or wherever you wish to go. But I will remain.
You would not respect me if I fled now."
Evelyn sat in silence, her head bowed. I decided to intervene. I could
hardly take exception to Lucas's sentiments but he managed to create an
atmosphere of sticky sentimentality that disgusted me.
"I have no intention of leaving unless the Emersons join us," I said
firmly. "And I will deal with my own crew, if you please, Lucas. You
may give yours whatever orders you like."
"I will," Lucas replied huffily.
And he went off to do so, while I summoned Reis Hassan and made another
effort to break through the language barrier. I had thought of asking
Lucas for the loan of his dragoman as interpreter; but what I
had seen
of that shifty-eyed personage did not impress me, and if Emerson had
not been able to induce Hassan to speak openly, I thought no one could.
Hassan managed to convey one concept unequivocally. He kept repeating
the word "go," and pointing upstream.
"Emerson?" I asked, and gestured toward the camp.
Hassan nodded vigorously. We were all to go. Today.
That was one Arabic word I understood, although the word for "tomorrow"
is even more commonly used. I repeated it now.
Hassan's face fell. Then he gave the queer Arab shrug.
"Tomorrow," he said soberly. "In "shallah."
I knew that word too. It means, "God willing."

AFTER BREAKFAST we set out. The sun was well up; the sands shone palely
gold, and the glare, even at that early hour, was hard on the eyes.
There was little conversation during the walk. Evelyn had not spoken at
all since she made her declaration; I was worried about her, and— which
is not usual for me— uncertain as how I might best relieve her strange
fears. Not that I blamed her for being distracted; most girls of her
protected station in life would have been prostrate after the
experiences she had undergone.
The first person to greet us was none other than Walter. He wore a
sling, to support the injured arm,
but otherwise he seemed well enough,
and I was delighted to see him on his feet. He came to meet us,
not
quite running, and grasped my hand. But he looked at Evelyn.
"You cannot conceive how relieved I am to see you," he exclaimed. "I
was furious with Radcliffe when he told me you had gone."
"I don't know why you should have been worried," I replied, returning
his hearty handclasp. "It was you we worried about. How do you feel?
And where is your brother?"
"You won't believe it," Walter said, smiling. "Guess."
"I don't need to guess," I replied. "Emerson has taken advantage of my
absence to continue his excavations. He is totally without conscience!
I suppose he has made another discovery.
What is it? Another fragment of painting?"
Walter's eyes were wide with surprise.
"Miss Amelia, you astound me! You seem to read minds. How did you know?"
"I know your brother very well," I replied angrily. "He is capable of
any stupidity where his precious antiquities are concerned. At such a
time as this, to waste his time and energy.... Where is he? I want
to
speak to him."
"The pavement is not far from the other one that was destroyed," Walter
replied. "But— "
"But me no buts," I said. "The rest of you return to camp. I will fetch
Emerson."
I set off without another word, not waiting to see whether they obeyed
me. By the time I found Emerson I had worked myself up into quite a
state of anger. He was squatting on the ground, his tan clothing and
dusty helmet blending so well with the hue of the sand that I did not
distinguish his form until I was almost upon him. He was so preoccupied
that he failed to hear my approach. I struck him, not lightly,
on the
shoulder with my parasol.
"Oh," he said, glancing at me. "So it's you, Peabody. Of course. Who
else would greet a man by beating him over the head?"
I squatted down beside him. This posture, so difficult at first, had
become easier. My knees no longer cracked when I knelt.
He had cleared a patch of pavement some three feet square. I saw
the blue undersurface which denoted water, and upon it three
exquisitely shaped lotus flowers, with green leaves framing the
pure-white petals.
"So this is the explanation of your plot," I remarked. "Sending me off
with Evelyn in order to distract the Mummy, so that you could work in
peace. Thank you, Emerson, for your concern! You are the most
despicable, selfish.... That is a great waste of time, you know,
scooping at the sand with your bare hands. You will never clear the
pavement that way. The sand trickles down as fast as you pull it
away."
Emerson grinned unpleasantly at me over his shoulder.
"Tsk, tsk, Peabody, you are losing track of what you were saying. I am
despicable, selfish—"
"Aren't you even curious?" I demanded angrily. "Don't you want to know
what happened last night?"
"I know what happened." Emerson sat back on his haunches. "I went to
the boat just before dawn this morning and had a talk with Hassan."
Now that I looked at him, I realized he appeared weary. There were dark
circles under his eyes, and
new lines around the firm mouth. I was
momentarily deflated by this, and by his calm statement. But
only
momentarily.
"You did, did you? And what do you make of it all?"
"Why, matters transpired as I expected. The Mummy appeared, and was
duly routed by you— "
"By Lucas," I interrupted.
"His lordship does not appear to have been particularly useful. His
collapse threw the crew into a complete panic. Even Reis Hassan— who is
far from being a coward, I assure you— is afraid. I trust his lordship
is fully recovered mis morning from what Hassan described as a
personally delivered curse?"
"I don't know what was wrong with him," I admitted. "If he were not
such an intrepid fellow, I would suspect he simply fainted."
"Ha," said Emerson.
"Jeer as much as you like, you cannot deny the man's courage. He is no
coward."
Emerson shrugged and began to scoop away more sand.
"Have you taken leave of your senses?" I asked. "You have had one
painting destroyed; uncover this,
and it will meet the same fate. Its
only safety now lies in obscurity."
"Perhaps its survival is not my chief concern," Emerson replied, still
scooping. "We must have some lure for our mysterious visitor; better to
lose this than Miss Evelyn."
I studied him in silence for several minutes.
"I cannot believe you mean that," I said finally.
"No, I am sure you have the lowest possible opinion of me and all my
works. It is true, nevertheless."
There was a new note in his voice, one I had not heard before. Anger he
had displayed, contempt, disgust; but never such weary bitterness. I
felt peculiarly affected.
"I do not have a low opinion of you," I said— mumbled, rather.
Emerson turned.
"What did you say?"
We presented a ridiculous picture. Half kneeling, half squatting,
Emerson was leaning forward to peer into my face. His hands rested on
the ground, and his posture rather suggested that of an inquisitive
orangutan. My own position, squatting on my heels with my skirts
bunched up around me, was no less ludicrous. I was not conscious of
absurdity or incongruity, however, I was only conscious of his eyes,
blue and glittering as sapphires, holding my gaze with a strange
intensity. Their look was too much to endure; my eyes fell, and my face
felt uncomfortably warm.
And then the sound of a voice shattered the spell. Looking up, I saw
Walter coming toward us. Emerson sat back.
"Radcliffe," Walter began, "what do you suppose has— "
He stopped speaking and looked from one of us to the other. "Is
something wrong? Have I interrupted—"
"Nothing," Emerson said coldly. "You have not interrupted. What is it,
Walter? You appear agitated."
"Agitated? I am, indeed! And so will you be, when you hear what
transpired last night."
"I know what transpired," Emerson said, in the same cool voice.
I looked at him from under my lashes. His face was as impassive as one
of the stone pharaohs in the Boulaq Museum. I decided I must have
imagined the fleeting look of passionate inquiry. I was tired,
after a
sleepless night, and subject to fancies.
"Then Miss Amelia has told you," Walter said innocently. "Radcliffe,
something must be done, this is frightful! You must persuade the ladies
to leave— now— today! Come back to camp, I beg, and use
your powers of
persuasion. I cannot seem to prevail with either Miss Evelyn or his
lordship."
"Oh, very well," Emerson grumbled, rising to his feet.
Walter extended his hand to me. His brother stalked away and we
followed. When we caught him up, Walter continued to express his horror
and alarm. Finally Emerson interrupted.
"Walter, you are babbling, and I don't believe you have thought the
matter through. Suppose we do succeed in sending Miss Evelyn away; will
that solve the difficulty? If the Mummy is a supernatural agent, which
all you fools seem to believe, it can follow her wherever she goes. It
can equally well follow her if it is not supernatural! Since you seem
to be more concerned with her safety than with the success of our work
here, perhaps you would agree that we ought to bend all our efforts on
ascertaining the creature's motives, and apprehending it."
Walter looked distressed. The reasoning made some impression on his
intellect, but all his protective instincts were at war with his brain;
he wanted to see Evelyn out of danger.
"Indeed," I put in, "we really have no reason to suppose that the
creature means Evelyn any harm. Both of you, and Lucas as well, have
taken injury, but Evelyn has not been touched. She is the only one who
has not been harmed— except for me."
"Ah," said Emerson, giving me a long, thoughtful look. "I assure you,
Peabody, that point has not
escaped me."
We finished the trip in silence. Walter was too worried, and I was too
furious, to speak. I understood Emerson's implication. Could he really
suspect me of being behind the diabolical plot? Surely not even Emerson
was capable.....
But, I told myself—he was! Such a cynic, who has never had an
altruistic thought in his life, is always projecting his own
failings onto other people.
Evelyn and Lucas were waiting for us, and we sat down for a discussion
which at first proved fruitless. The fault was mine; ordinarily I have
no difficulty in making up my mind, nor in convincing others of
the
correctness of my decision. On this occasion I could not come to a
decision.
The safest course would have been for all of us to pack up and abandon
the site. This I knew Emerson would never consider, and I had a certain
sympathy for his point of view. Equally impossible to me was the idea
of abandoning the Emersons and sailing away. Neither of them was in
perfect health; they would be helpless if the villagers should turn
from passive resistance to active hostility. They had no means of
summoning help. Even in busy years the remote ruins of Amarna attract
relatively few visitors, and the unsettled condition in the Sudan had
frightened away many travelers.
An alternative was for me to remain with my dahabeeyah, in case of
emergency, while Lucas and Evelyn returned to Cairo for assistance. It
would be improper for them to travel unchaperoned; but by that time I
was ready to consign the proprieties to perdition, where they belonged.
However, the plan had a number of difficulties. Evelyn would refuse to
leave me, and Emerson would howl like a jackal at the idea of my
remaining to protect him. He had the lowest possible opinion of Maspero
and the Antiquities Department; the notion of appealing to them for
help would offend his masculine pride.
Nevertheless, I thought it my duty to propose the scheme. It was
received with the unanimous, negative outcry I had expected. Did I say
unanimous? I am incorrect. The only one who did not object was the one
I had expected to be most vehement. Emerson sat with his lips pressed
tightly together.
Lucas was the most outspoken.
"Abandon our friends?" he exclaimed. "And you, Miss Amelia? It is not
to be thought of! Furthermore,
I cannot possibly
agree to allowing Evelyn to risk her reputation traveling alone with
me. There is only one circumstance under which such a scheme would be
feasible ...."
And he looked significantly at Evelyn, who flushed and turned her head
away.
His meaning was clear. If Evelyn traveled as his affianced bride, the
ceremony to be performed immediately upon their arrival in Cairo.... In
our conventional times the proprieties might be shaken by such an
arrangement, but they would not be unalterably shattered.
Walter caught the meaning as soon as I did. His ingenuous young
countenance fell. Emerson had produced his pipe and was puffing away
with every appearance of enjoyment; his eyes gleamed maliciously as he
looked from one of us to the other.
"Oh, this is absurd," I said, jumping to my feet. "We must make some
decision. The day is passing,
and I am worn out."
"Of course you are," Evelyn exclaimed, immediately concerned. "You must
have rest, that is more important than anything else. Go and lie down,
Amelia."
"We have not yet made a decision," I began.
Emerson took his pipe from his mouth.
"Really, Peabody, this strange indecisiveness is not like you. Indeed,
I
am surprised at all of you. You
are acting like impulsive children,
ready to run from a shadow."
"A shadow!" I exclaimed indignantly. "It was a shadow, I suppose, that
struck you down with a rock;
a shadow that wounded Walter!"
"To be precise, it was an avalanche that injured me," Emerson replied
coolly. "An equally unfortunate accident" — he stressed the word,
glancing at Lucas as he did so— "an accident caused Walter's wound.
Come, come, Peabody, use your head. To date, there is nothing to
suggest that any of these mishaps were the result of deliberate malice.
As for his lordship's strange collapse last night—the body is subject
to inexplicable weaknesses. Fatigue, excitements— a trifle too much
wine.
.. ."
He paused, cocking his head and peering at Lucas with quizzical blue
eyes. Lucas flushed angrily.
"I deny the allegation!"
"The only alternative is to believe in the supernatural powers of the
Mummy," Emerson replied drily. "That I refuse to do. I will continue to
seek a rational explanation until reason leaves me altogether; and
unless one of you can suggest a motive, unknown to me, why any of us
should be in danger. . .."
Again he paused, raking us in turn with his cool stare. No one spoke.
"No vendettas, nor feuds?" Emerson asked mockingly. "No desperate
lovers, or enemies burning for revenge? Very well, then; we return to
the only sensible explanation for all this; it was suggested, I
believe, by his lordship. The villagers wish to drive us away from here
because they have made a
valuable discovery. I will not be driven away.
It is as simple as that."
I could not hope but be impressed by the man's irrefutable logic. And
yet in my innermost thoughts a strange uneasiness lingered.
"Then what do you propose that we do?" I asked.
"I propose that we take the aggressive," Emerson replied. "So far we
have not done so; we have been preoccupied with defending ourselves
against fancied dangers. And that, I believe, is precisely what our
opponents wish us to do. If the villagers can find a tomb, we can find
it. Tomorrow I will begin searching. We will enlist the assistance of
your crews. It will not be easy to do that; the men have been told by
the villagers that we are under a curse. Yet I fancy that a judicious
blend of flattery, appeal, and bribery will win them over. We must have
sufficient manpower to protect the ladies and to conduct a thorough
search. Well? What do you say? Is the scheme a good one?"

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