The Falcon at the Portal: An Amelia Peabody Mystery by Elizabeth Peters

Author:Elizabeth Peters
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9780380798575
Publisher: Avon Books
Published: 2000-03-23T07:00:00+00:00

They did not remain below for long. Ramses was himself again, his countenance no more expressive than that of the Sphinx; but when he saw me kneeling by the roll of carpet he caught me by the shoulders and pulled me away. “No, Mother. Don’t. Not here, and not now.”

“And not you, Aunt Amelia,” said Nefret. Ramses turned to face her.

“Nor you, Nefret. What are you trying to prove—that you are more than human?”

“I have done my share of autopsies and dissections,” Nefret said steadily. “How did she die?”

“Take your choice. Fractured skull, shattered spinal cord, broken neck, pelvis, ribs …”

Emerson breathed out a string of curses. I said, “The face?”

“You would not care to see it.”

“Then how can you be certain of her identity?”

After a long moment Ramses said, “Trust you to think of that, Mother. I fear there can be little doubt. The hair was the same, and the clothing.”

“Especially the boots,” Nefret said in a cold, dry voice. She was looking down at the foot I had exposed. “They were specially made for her in London. I doubt many women could get them on. I certainly could not. She was proud of her tiny feet.”

We were no longer alone. Selim and Daoud, Ali and Hassan, had come; at a little distance, huddled together and watching in silence, were the local men we had hired.

“Enough of this,” said Emerson, in the quiet voice no one ignored or disobeyed. “Selim, as you see, a sad accident has occurred.”

Selim’s wide dark eyes were fixed on the single small boot I had uncovered before Ramses pulled me away. “Is it the young American lady? God be merciful! How did it happen? What was she doing here?”

“It was an accident,” Emerson repeated. “There was no negligence on your part or that of anyone else. Her brother must be sent for, and we must make arrangements to remove the—to remove her. Can you find a cart or wagon, Selim? It is not very dignified, but—”

“But it is better than some of the alternative methods of transport,” said Ramses coolly. “As for Jack, it won’t be necessary to send for him. He’s come looking for us. Interesting. I wonder why? He cannot be aware of what has happened.”

Nefret gasped, “Head him off, for heaven’s sake! He mustn’t see her.”

She ran toward the approaching rider. I pulled the rug over the small boot and went after her. The news must be broken gently and the poor young man prevented from viewing the sad sight until he had had time to accept the truth.

We were all together, waiting, when Jack reined up, pulling the unfortunate horse back on its haunches. He flung himself from the saddle. Pushing past Nefret, he caught Ramses by the front of his shirt.

“Where is she? What have you done with her?”

He was several inches shorter than Ramses, but quite a bit bulkier, and he was very angry. Ramses did not move. Looking down his nose at Jack’s red, distorted face, he said, “You had better explain what you mean.

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