An Egyptian Affair (The Regent Mysteries Book 4) Page 20

  He nodded. "Indeed it was. A Frenchman sold me this extraordinary scarab." He opened a silken box and moved across the shop to show them a scarab of a beetle. It was of gold and encrusted with emeralds, rubies and sapphires. "My guards went to collect it. It is just the sort of item which thieves would be most interested in. I need not tell you, those two men have never once been threatened."

  "I confess I feel threatened by them," Daphne said good naturedly. "They're rather ferocious looking."

  "Exactly why I hired them."

  After they left the bazaar, they needed a place where they could converse without being heard. They had much to discuss. Their heretofore slow progress had finally yielded fruit. Not only fruit, but she was quite certain they possessed enough information to solve the crimes.

  Mr. Arbuthnot was not the kindly fellow countryman he tried to portray. He was evil. He had to be evil if he was in league with d'Arblier.

  As they walked, she thought of things Arbuthnot had said and done since they'd arrived, things that might indicate his guilt. It had been his dragoman who'd procured the services of the Egyptians for their expedition to Gizeh. Either Arbuth-knows-it-all or his man must be responsible for enlisting the scoundrel who'd abducted Rosemary. Now Daphne was certain he was the one who had put the laudanum into Rosemary's guard's port. She also recalled that Arbuthnot boasted of buying his house. Few civil servants could afford to purchase property.

  "I have an idea," Mr. Maxwell said. Then he turned to Rosemary. "Why don't you show Captain Cooper the docks at Bulak? There's much of interest."

  She glared at him and lowered her voice so the Captain wouldn't hear. "While you stay and have all the excitement?"

  He shrugged. "It's obvious the Captain wishes to be alone with you."

  Her eyes rounded. "Do you really think so?"

  He nodded solemnly.

  She sighed. "Very well, but you must vow to tell me all when I return." She moved back to the Captain and tucked her arm to his as they strode away.

  * * *

  How she wanted to stay with the others. Rosemary was exceedingly curious to see how they would proceed. She did not know anything about the duc d’Arblier, but she did know Mr. Arbuthnot, and now she highly suspected he was in some way to blame for all these terrible things that had happened.

  His culpability made her shiver. To think, a British public servant—a man they had trusted since the moment they’d set foot in Egypt—was acting against them. He could be responsible for the threats against her life.

  It was difficult for her to be a gracious, informative guide to Captain Cooper when her thoughts were elsewhere.

  The sun was now high in the sky—the hottest part of the day. She vowed not to complain. At least she was at liberty to wear a light muslin morning dress. Poor Captain Cooper must wear his heavy woolen jacket.

  “I have found, Captain, that when the heat is at its most unbearable . . .” She stopped to swat at several flies which had landed upon her face. “I try to remember a dreary day in London that is so cold I feel like ice water is in my veins, like my bones have frozen. I think of a day so cold that the only thing I could want was to swath myself in blankets and sit in front of a fire. I remember when the fog is so thick I cannot see the house across the street.” She looked up at him and smiled. “Then I don’t so terribly object to the Egyptian heat.”

  “How clever you are, my lady. I shall have to try your little trick.”

  With the four soldiers trotting behind them, they began to stroll toward Bulak, few words exchanged between them.

  He patted her hand. “I cannot tell you how happy I am to finally be alone with the loveliest lady I know.”

  She felt the heat climb into her cheeks as she peered up at him, shyly lowering her lashes as a gentle smile settled on her mouth.

  “I rather fancy you and me stopping at a coffee house. If my memory serves me correctly, it’s right up here.”

  The strong coffee they served at these places wasn’t to her liking, but she wanted to be amiable. “Yes, I believe you’re right.”

  Because it was the hottest part of the day, no others were in the dark little shop when they entered and sat at a small table.

  It was impossible to communicate with the server when neither of them spoke Arabic. She wished Mr. Maxwell were here.

  Smiling broadly, the server, who had a massive black beard, finally brought them two small cups of the strong brew, and then disappeared behind a curtain to give them privacy.

  Captain Cooper settled his hand over hers. “I don’t have to tell you, Rosemary, how profound are my feelings for you.”

  How improper! No man had ever called her by her first name. “I- I –I am most flattered.”

  “It’s I who am flattered just to be in your company.”

  “Amazing, is it not, that we are permitted to do in Cairo what would never be acceptable in London?”

  He drew her hand to his lips and softly kissed it. “Indeed it is.” His voice was low and husky, and the glittering in his blue eyes was unlike anything she’d seen before. Unless such a glittering came from a person rendered senseless from laudanum. She felt uneasy.

  “There’s a question I’ve wanted to ask you, my lady.”

  She smiled up at him. “What question?”

  “I would be the most fortunate man in his majesty’s army if you would do me the goodness of consenting to become my wife.”

  She felt as if she’d been struck in the chest with a cricket bat. Was there any air left in her lungs? She was completely stunned by the Captain’s declaration. She’d known he was attracted to her, but she also knew he had no intentions of leaving his position while his country was at war.

  Before she could respond, he continued. “I know I’m not worthy of an earl’s daughter, but your father has already consented to have one army officer as a son-in-law. I know it’s a lot to ask you to give up your luxurious manner of living to follow the drum with me to God-only-knows where. But I will say there are presently three officers’ wives in our camp, and they all seem to vastly enjoy such a life.”

  She felt rather as if she were in a dream. Her dreams were coming true! For one-and-a-half years she had longed to hear such a declaration from the handsome Captain. She was the one who felt honored. Quite honestly, when she’d embarked on this Egyptian journey she had no hope that the Captain would ever be attracted to her.

  A smile lifting her lips, she met his gaze. “I think following the drum sounds exceedingly exciting. I shall be honored to become your wife.”

  His gaze darted from her to the curtain, then to the soldiers waiting in the street, their backs to them. He stood and pulled her to him, his strong arms closing around her while he hungrily kissed her.

  This was her first kiss. It wasn’t as magical as she had imagined. For one thing, he was so tall that she had to tilt her head into a most awkward position. For another, his breath smelled of garlic. She was now thankful she abhorred garlic. She wouldn’t want to carry such an odor on her person.

  She supposed kissing was an acquired skill, clearly an acquired taste.

  When the kiss terminated, she realized she was embarrassed. She looked at the floor, and then scooted back into her chair to finish her coffee.

  She could not wait to tell Miss Elephantine. The two ladies, who were the best of friends, together had ogled the handsome Captain whenever he entered a ball.

  They finished their coffee and once more began to walk to Bulak. “I shall take a leave and travel back to England with you to seek your father’s approval. That given, I shall need to procure a special license so we can speedily marry and return to Fort Rached.”

  “It all sounds so terribly romantic.”

  * * *

  After Rosemary and Captain Cooper left them, Mr. Maxwell faced Jack and Daphne. "No one will be in the Coptic church this time of day. We'll be able to speak in private there."

  She and Jack followed Mr. Maxwell. "Did you not say the Coptics
are Christians?" she asked.

  "Yes. They're very much like the Greek Orthodox Church, which both have origins in the 1st century AD," Mr. Maxwell said.

  The crosses that topped the church's twin mini-domed bell towers could be seen from several hundred yards away. When they got closer, Daphne asked Mr. Maxwell what the church's name was.

  "It's call the Hanging Church, but not for reasons you might suspect. It's more to do with how it's situated."

  They climbed up twenty-nine steps to enter the church, which Mr. Maxwell said was many hundreds of years old. The church was in the Christian basilica style, but its brightly coloured mosaic arches in the Moorish style clearly bespoke the Egyptian heritage.

  No one else was there. The three of them marched down the nave and sat in the first row pew. Jack sketched out enough information about his arch nemesis to give Mr. Maxwell some idea of what they were up against with the cunning duc d’Arblier.

  “It seems plausible that his desire to possess the Amun-re mask was motivated by his hatred of the Regent,” Maxwell said.

  “And he’s such a thoroughly despicable person that he’d rather murder for it than to diminish his own wealth,” Daphne said.

  “You’re likely right, love.” Jack’s brows lowered. “I don’t understand how someone could be so cold-blooded a killer. It’s not as if the duc isn’t one of the wealthiest men in all of France. Why did he not just pay for the mask?”

  “Perhaps Prince Singh decided not to sell it to him,” Mr. Maxwell suggested.

  Jack nodded. “The duc is not accustomed to being thwarted. In anything.”

  Daphne’s eyes narrowed. “How does that vile Mr. Arbuthnot play into all of this?”

  “I’m not sure,” Jack said. “But I know he has to.”

  "I agree," Daphne said "Now that I've thought about it, there are several things that point to his guilt."

  Jack nodded. "Things like him adding the laudanum to the guard's port back in Gizeh?"

  "Yes," she said. "And it was him and his dragomen who secured the services of the Egyptians for that expedition."

  "And one of them clearly was instructed to capture poor Lady Rosemary," Maxwell added.

  "There's also the lies he's told," Daphne said. "He told us he didn't know Prince Singh, told us Ahmed Hassein was a murderer." She drew a breath. "Also, he told me he'd begun to acquire property." She shrugged. "Of course, that was not a lie."

  "On a civil servant's salary?" Maxwell asked, grinning.

  "Also," Daphne said, "he's English. We've been told since early on that it was an Englishman who was to meet with Prince Singh that night."

  "Remember, too, he chose not to go in the pyramid that day," Jack said, shaking his head. "I can't believe I didn't give him serious consideration. I wonder if I'd ever have unraveled this without Hassein's helpful tip."

  "Yes, you would have." Daphne glared at him. "Hassein wouldn't have had any connection with us had our inquiries not taken us to his shop. We were thorough, and it's those types of inquiries which have proven to unearth the truth."

  “I think it’s time the three of us pay a not-so-friendly call upon the man,” Mr. Maxwell said.

  * * *

  They found Arbuthnot in his office at the Consulate. When they entered the chamber, he stood, smiling at them and issuing pleasant greetings, but when he saw the somber expression on each of their faces, his clouded. “Pray, is something wrong?” His gaze flicked to the door which Maxwell was closing. Once the door was closed, Maxwell stood in front of it, his arms folded across his chest as he glared at the attaché.

  Jack knew a few things about interrogating the enemy. “Indeed there is,” Jack said. “You’re a bloody traitor. How much did d’Arblier pay you?”

  Arbuthnot’s face blanched. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  "A very reliable source has told us of your close relationship with the Frenchman," Daphne said.

  Arbuthnot finally shrugged. "So what if I do know him? He's not here in any official capacity. Is it a crime to share a hookah with the fellow?"

  "As it happens, my hostile relationship with the duc goes back a long way. Nothing he does is innocuous," Jack said.

  "He's evil," Daphne said venomously. "He hates both my husband and our ruler."

  Jack moved to him. His sheer size advantage should intimidate Arbuthnot."You lied to us about knowing Prince Singh. You lied to us about knowing Gareth Williams. You lied to us about Ahmed Hassein being a murderer." Jack came even closer, sneering. He grabbed Arbuthnot's fine woolen jacket and twisted it. "You better tell the truth now, or I'll see you hanged for murder."

  Arbuthnot collapsed into his chair. "I'm not a murderer. I was just a very small part of his foul deeds." He sighed, and a moment later started at the beginning. "Knowing that I was acquainted with Prince Singh, d'Arblier asked me to be an intermediary with the Indian. D'Arblier was determined to get the mask. He told me to tell the prince that I was brokering a deal with an anonymous collector who was willing to double what the Regent was paying for the mask."

  "Did you go to Singh's house with d'Arblier that night?" Jack asked.

  His eyes filling with tears, he nodded. "I had no idea what his true reason was for insisting that the servants be given the night off, no idea he meant to murder Singh in order to possess the mask." His voice began to crack.

  Even though Jack had known in his bones that Singh had been murdered, he'd foolishly clung to the hope that he had not.

  "Once he plunged his dagger into Prince Singh," Arbuthnot continued, "I was certain he was going to murder me too. It would make sense for him to make it look as if I had killed Singh. But to my profound surprise, he smiled at me. He said he needed a man inside the British government. He said he would pay handsomely. He asked what my salary was and promised to match it.

  "I didn't believe him. Not after what he'd done to Singh, but I would have promised anything that night to save myself from that murderer." He sighed. "He left Egypt then, but true to his word, each quarter the funds he'd promised were deposited in my bank.

  "Things went on smoothly for several months. I heard nothing from the Frenchman, but I was well paid. Once he knew you'd be coming . . ." He peered at Jack. "He called in his vouchers, so to speak. Had he known before you landed in Alexandria, I'd have put in a d'Arblier puppet for your dragoman, but I'd already engaged Habeeb."

  "So d'Arblier didn't know we were coming until after the Consul learned?" Daphne asked.

  "Yes."

  "Did he try to order you to kill me?"

  "No. I gathered he wanted that pleasure himself. He did make it clear that he wanted to inject chaos into your party so that you would return to England for fear of the ladies' safety."

  "That day you showed up as we were going to Gizeh, it wasn't the Consul who asked you to come, was it?" Jack asked.

  Arbuthnot shook his head. "D'Arblier insisted I come. He'd already dispatched Williams. Something about rigging some stones to fall on your party when they entered the burial chamber in the Great Pyramid."

  Daphne glared at Arbuthnot. "Did you select the Egyptian who abducted my sister? You knew she was going to be taken, did you not?"

  He avoided making eye contact. Hanging his head, he nodded. "He made me put the laudanum in the guard's glass. He assured me he wouldn't kill your sister, that he merely needed to extract whatever information he could about your investigation on behalf of the Regent. He also wanted to frighten you into returning to England."

  Daphne's voice cracked. "You had to know that when they were finished interrogating her, they would kill her."

  He looked up at them, remorseful. "I would not have let that happen."

  Jack gave an insincere chuckle. "Keep telling yourself that, Arbuthnot. The truth is you're frightened of d'Arblier. You're a coward."

  "We know that Williams killed Singh's mistress," Daphne said. "Was it because the duc feared she might know something about that fateful night her lover died?"r />
  Arbuthnot nodded ruefully.

  "Pray, Mr. Arbuthnot," Daphne continued, "how was Prince Singh's body disposed of?"

  The carpet! That's why it was missing, Jack thought.

  Arbuthnot drew another deep breath. "There was no bloody mess, except on the carpet. We rolled his body in the carpet." He stopped, as if he could not go on.

  "Where'd you put the body?" Jack asked.

  "You've seen the Indian prince's final resting place."

  "In the desert," Daphne whispered.

  His eyes met hers, and he nodded.

  "If you hope to keep that no-good neck of yours out of the noose, you better tell me where I can find d'Arblier."

  Arbuthnot's eyes closed. "He's gone. He boarded a boat for Alexandria this morning. That's the truth. Since I've lost mine, I swear it on my father's honor."

  Jack cursed.

  "Late yesterday, the duc, Williams and I met and shared information. As we were seeing him off on the felucca he said he would get you yet, Dryden."

  "Williams never came back to his lodgings. Do you know where we can find him?"

  "He's at my house."

  "And the Amun Re mask?"

  "Williams—at the behest of the duc—sold it in Constantinople. It fetched a great deal of money for the duc, and that degenerate Williams made a tidy bonus."

  So the Pasha had been right about that.

  Finally Maxwell spoke. "Should you like me to ask Mr. Briggs to send around for the Turkish authorities to arrest this man?"

  Arbuthnot squeezed his eyes shut.

  Jack nodded grimly. "Yes."

  Chapter 20

  Jack felt lower than an adder's belly. The mystery was solved, but there was no jubilation. Prince Singh was dead. The Regent would not get his Amun-re mask. Ralph Arbuthnot was likely going to hang. And the duc d’Arblier was on his way back to France.

  Their only success was seeing Williams apprehended and charged with murder. The authorities took a statement from Rosemary that he'd confessed to her. They planned to take custody of the hair Jack had found on the murdered woman. Habeeb was bringing Amal's maid to the jail so she could identify Williams. All in all, there was a tight case against the Welshman.