by Anna Elliott
A woman’s high, terrified scream accompanied the last words—probably the child’s mother.
The substance in Zoe’s lungs felt more like hot glue than air, but she forced herself to draw a steadying breath, then walked out of her hiding place to where Morgan stood on the edge of the riverbank.
The carefully groomed Englishman was entirely transformed. He looked half-deranged, with his face flushed and twisted with anger, his hair rumpled and his clothes dishevelled.
Sonnebourne must have rousted him out of bed and threatened him with dire consequences if she, Zoe, was not found.
“That won’t be necessary,” Zoe said steadily.
The child Morgan had threatened—a little boy—was cowering on the ground, his mother beside him with her arms thrown protectively over him.
“Put the gun away, Mr. Morgan,” Zoe said. “I will come with you quite willingly.”
CHAPTER 31: WATSON
At dawn the next morning, December 24, I was awakened by a persistent rapping at my hotel room door. At the moment, the rooms of the Old Cataract hotel were nearly all taken by managers, supervisors, vendors and tradesmen working on their respective aspects of the vast dam construction project, though one day, when the dam was complete, the management fully expected to fill the hotel with tourists. Our rooms were on the top floor. We had no view of the river, for our travel arrangements, with an eye to economy, had necessitated choosing the less-expensive eastern side. Nonetheless, my bed and sitting rooms were both comfortably furnished and already illuminated by the golden glow of the beginning sunrise.
I opened my door and beheld Lucy, already dressed and holding what appeared to be a hand-written note.
“It’s a message from Holmes,” she said. “It arrived during the night.”
She handed the folded paper—which was little more than a ragged scrap that appeared to have been torn from some wrapping material—over to me. I read the brief message.
Lucy, proceed to the Aswan dam construction site, where if all goes well, I shall join you. Watson, I pray you will remain at the hotel. In particular, keep watch on the lobby. —S.H.
“At least we know that he is alive, and able to issue communication.”
“True.” Lucy was frowning, though, her expression worried. “Look here, though.” She pointed to where there were a few smudges of rusty red on the edge of the message. “Blood, do you think?”
I would have liked to offer reassurance but could not. Lucy would not have believed in empty platitudes.
“Holmes is alive,” I repeated. “And it seems to me the best way that we can assist him is to do as he asks.”
Lucy nodded. “I will hire a guide and a donkey and go to the dam construction.” She smiled briefly. “I wonder what Lord Kitchener will think when I turn up again—probably that I’m a frightful nuisance.”
“If that is all Lord Kitchener has to complain of by the end of today, I will be heartily thankful.”
“So will I,” Lucy said soberly.
CHAPTER 32: ZOE
“Here she is.” Morgan gave Zoe a shove up the final steps leading to the upper deck of the boat.
It was the only time he had touched her on the journey. From his expression, he would have liked to cause her significantly more harm than a simple push to the shoulder. But Sonnebourne must have given orders that she was to be unharmed.
“Thank you,” Sonnebourne said.
Sonnebourne stood at the rail of the boat, apparently deep in contemplation of the sunrise now showing over the eastern mountains.
In the distance, to both the right and left of the river, rose long ranges of yellow limestone mountains, the natural crevices in the landscape painted with violet and blue shadows by the early morning sun.
He turned and glanced at Morgan.
“Leave us.”
Morgan looked as though he would have liked to argue, but obeyed, vanishing down the steps to the lower deck.
Sonnebourne still faced the rising sun and was silent. “Have you ever heard the story of Osiris?”
Zoe had braced herself for interrogation—torture, even—as he sought to find out where Holmes had gone.
She blinked at the question. “No.”
“He was one of many gods worshiped here in Egypt, in ancient times. The story goes that he was murdered by his jealous brother Set. Set cut up Osiris’s body and hid parts of it all over Egypt, up and down the river Nile. But Osiris’s faithful wife, Isis, searched for Osiris’ remains and reassembled his body and restored him to life.”
Sonnebourne tilted his face up, as though better to catch the breeze of the river and the sun’s rays. “Osiris’s death and triumphant resurrection were said to be reenacted daily in the rising and setting of the sun. On the day of the winter solstice, the ancient Egyptians celebrated by decorating their homes with leaves from the date palm tree. The green of the leaves was believed to signify immortality, the eternal triumph of life over death.”
Zoe’s skin prickled. Not since Professor James Moriarty could she remember fearing and disliking a man as much as she did Lord Sonnebourne. And yet somehow, as he spoke, the intensity of his voice seemed to turn back the hands of time, scrolling through the centuries until she could almost imagine them back in those ancient days.
A farmer, wearing nothing but a simple white loincloth, stood on the edge of the nearby river bank. He was using a shâdûf to draw up water for his crops, while behind him a team of oxen ploughed the fields. Just as they would have done six thousand years ago.
“Look around you!” Sonnebourne swept a hand out towards the river, the fields of cultivation, and the desert mountains beyond. “This country was great, once! A mighty nation, capable of conquest, ruled by Pharaohs who raised monuments the like of which the world has never seen since. Under the rule of the Turks and now the English, it has fallen into decay. But it could rise and become mighty once again.”
“Like Osiris, rising from the dead?”
“Exactly like!” Sonnebourne’s voice throbbed, and something fanatical flashed in his blue gaze. “We had no time to stop at Thebes on our journey. If we had, I would have shown you the temple of Medinet Habu, where pharaoh Ramses III inscribed the story of his triumph over foreign armies on the walls: Those who came on land were overthrown and slaughtered … Amon-Re was after them destroying them. Those who entered the river mouths were like birds ensnared in the net … their leaders were carried off and slain. They were thrown down and pinioned …”
His voice caressed the words, lingering. His eyes had gone flat and distant, and his lips curved in a remote smile that made ice crystals form under Zoe’s skin, despite the heat of the sun.
“And you plan to become another Ramses?” she asked.
“Ramses?” Sonnebourne threw back his head again and laughed. “Why would I aim so low? Ramses and all the pharaohs like him are dead and dust, now, their temples and monuments in ruins, their tombs torn apart by grave robbers, their treasures gone. I will be another Osiris.”
He stopped. “Shall I tell you how it will be? Look, you can see the dam construction from here.”
He gestured to the great earthen barrier upstream of the main construction site. On the barrier, two huge steam shovels and two gigantic steam cranes stood silent, their huge buckets hanging empty over the earthen surface, suspended by steel cables.
“The work will halt at the end of the day, so that the Christians among the work crew may celebrate the holiday tomorrow,” Sonnebourne said. “My confederate amongst the work crews has already hidden the detonator and the charges. I assume you overheard at least some of our meeting on Philae?”
There seemed no point in denying it, so Zoe nodded.
“I shall go to the construction site this afternoon wearing the uniform of an Egyptian Army officer and claim to be making an inspection of the work’s progress,” Sonnebourne went on. “That will get me past the guards who remain on duty. On the earthen bank you can see up there in the distance will
be a pile of straw and dirt. Directly beneath the dirty straw will be a detonator. When the plunger is depressed, a timer will be activated, and eventually a switch will turn, completing an electrical circuit that will send current down wires within three long pipes, each stuffed with dynamite. The pipes are buried within the earthen wall, and they run in the downstream direction all the way across to the construction side. The explosion will breach the entire width of the earthen barrier.”
“And once you have pleased your German masters by murdering thousands of innocent people and undermining Britain’s control of Egypt, they will reward you by granting you rulership of the country, when they are the conquerors here?”
Instead of answering, Sonnebourne smiled, a slow, lazy smile, and stretched out a hand. “Every Osiris must have his Isis.”
“And you are inviting me to fulfill that role?” Zoe knew she ought to summon up a flattered smile, try to persuade Sonnebourne that she was considering the offer.
She couldn’t manage it.
Sonnebourne, reading her expression, sighed. “A pity. We should have made a fine king and queen, you and I.” He raised his voice. “Morgan?”
The barrister must have been standing just out of sight, because his head appeared almost at once at the top of the stairs.
“Take her below,” Sonnebourne said. “Tell Olfrig to tie her up with the other one, then get ready to accompany me to the site of the dam. We must not be late for our appointment with destiny.”
CHAPTER 33: WATSON
I was dressing in haste, making ready to proceed to the hotel lobby as Holmes had asked. I heard a knock at my door. Expecting Lucy, I opened it. But instead I saw a dark-complexioned young woman, dressed in the uniform of an Egyptian hotel maid.
“Dr. Watson?”
“I am.”
“I have been asked to bring you at once. A medical emergency. Mr. Paul Archer.”
“Archer is here? I had thought him in Cairo.”
She bobbed her head. “He is in great distress and asked for you to come at once. A matter of life and death.”
I hesitated. To have a call for help from Archer come at this moment, when I was obeying Holmes’s request and could ill afford to leave my post, set my heart racing.
But if Archer was in danger—
I studied the girl’s face. She appeared desperately in earnest, her wide eyes imploring beneath the fringe of her white cotton head scarf.
“Where?” I asked.
“The motorized felucca Chimera. She is moored at the hotel dock just at the base of the cliff. I am to take you there, if you will come.”
I debated only a moment more before making my choice.
“I will come. Just let me fetch my medical kit.”
I found my medical bag and followed her, my heart rate quickening.
Finally we were on the embankment at the edge of the great river, and then on the wooden dock. The fourth ship along the dock was the Chimera, and a gangplank led from the dock onto the deck.
From inside the cabin came a cry of pain. I recognized Paul’s voice.
I pressed a pound note into the hand of the maid, hurried to the gangplank, and came on board.
The bulkhead door leading to the cabin was open.
I called out, trying to see inside the cabin. “Paul?”
There seemed to be several people seated in the darkness within. I could not make out their features.
Then I felt a gun press into the small of my back. At the same moment, an electric torch was lit within the cabin.
Behind me I heard a woman’s voice. “Remember me, Doctor? Little April Norman? Paul’s faithful assistant at the London Zoo?”
I turned and saw her, now without the scarf that had concealed her hair. She had darkened her complexion with some cosmetic to appear Egyptian. And she held a pistol trained on my heart.
“You were charged with murder and embezzlement. You were convicted and imprisoned,” I said.
“Only for embezzlement. And released after a modest stay in prison,” she said. “Lord Sonnebourne provided the services of Mr. Morgan, an excellent barrister. And a position as Mr. Morgan’s housekeeper. I’m now the very respectable Mrs. Orles, and soon I will be mistress of Paul Archer’s townhouse in Regent’s Park. Now come inside and meet your other friends.”
In the light of the electric torch, I saw Archer and Zoe seated on the floor of the small cabin. Both were bound and gagged with white handkerchiefs.
Beside Zoe stood Olfrig. He was holding a pistol clapped to Zoe’s temple.
Olfrig gave a triumphant smile. “Ah, Dr. Watson. We meet again. It is fortunate that you were in your room when Miss Norman arrived.”
Then his expression hardened. “Where is Holmes?”
Cold fury surged through my veins. Olfrig, his beady eyes bright behind his spectacles, was watching me with great interest, the way an experimenter watches a rat in a maze.
He was attempting to disconcert me, to evoke the sense of powerlessness I must have had when he had drugged me at his Homburg spa clinic.
“Holmes is dead,” I said. “As I told you when we met in Cairo.”
“You lie,” said Olfrig. He placed the muzzle of his pistol beneath Zoe’s chin, causing her to turn her head aside. Above the white cloth that prevented her from speaking, her eyes were wide with fear and anger. “He secured the rescue of another of Lord Sonnebourne’s guests only last night.”
I could not suppress a slight start of shock at the news. Holmes had rescued Safiya. It must be Safiya to whom Olfrig referred.
I glanced at Zoe, and she gave an infinitesimal nod of confirmation, as though reading my thoughts.
Beside her, Archer looked glassy-eyed with terror.
“Remove Miss Rosario’s gag,” I said.
“Where is Holmes?” Olfrig repeated.
I knew I had information that Olfrig wanted. Otherwise he would have shot me. “Remove the gag and I will talk,” I said.
“You are in no position to bargain.”
“Then shoot me. If you dare. You know the authorities will hear.”
“Close the cabin door, Miss Norman,” Olfrig said.
I folded my arms across my chest.
Olfrig appeared thoughtful. “You appeared surprised at what I told you about Holmes’s courageous movements last night. Which leads me to ask myself whether you really have any vital information?”
“You might try drugging me again,” I said. “But you would have to shoot me first.”
Olfrig aimed his pistol at me as his free hand reached out to undo the knotted cloth at the back of Zoe’s neck.
I hurled myself at him, downwards and forwards, still with my arms crossed, crashing into Olfrig just above his ankles. He shot wildly as he went down. The bullet missed. I landed on my right shoulder and rolled past him, drawing my pistol from my left coat pocket as I came upright.
He shot again while scrambling to his knees. His bullet grazed my arm.
Lying on my back, I saw him above me, getting his balance and aiming his pistol for a third shot.
I fired.
My bullet hit him below his jaw. It went straight up through his brain and exited in a shower of red through the top of his skull.
I turned and saw Miss Norman at the doorway. She was bent over, mouth agape, gasping as though about to be sick, staring in horror at the fallen Olfrig.
Her pistol dangled at her side.
“You should have taken more care to make sure that I was unarmed, Miss Norman,” I said. “I recognized you at once, even in Egyptian disguise, and took the precaution of pocketing my revolver when I went to fetch my medical kit. Another oversight of yours. But then, overweening confidence always was your downfall. Now, drop your weapon.”
Instead of doing as I ordered, she straightened, lips compressed, face hardened with determination, bringing her pistol to bear on me.
As she fired, I shot her between the eyes.
I removed the gags from Zoe and Archer
.
Archer’s gaze was fixed on April Norman’s crumpled body as I removed his gag. He continued to stare at her while he got his breath.
Then he said, “She taunted me. They never intended to fund my research. It was only a ruse, to make me go to Egypt, where I would conveniently vanish. The papers I signed for the venture were used to forge a document giving her power of attorney to manage all my affairs in my absence. They were going to kill me here, and she was going to return to London and occupy my town house in Park Crescent.”
“A devil’s plan,” I said. “No doubt Sonnebourne was behind it.”
Zoe said, “There are knives in the galley.”
I found one and used it to cut the cords that bound their hands and feet.
“Where is Holmes?” Zoe was already on her feet. “And where is Lucy?”
“Lucy is at the dam construction site, by Holmes’s request. As for Holmes, I can only hope that he has joined her.”
Zoe bit her lip. “He was wounded last night—shot—but we must hurry. Sonnebourne and Morgan are already making for the construction site, as well. They plan … But there isn’t time to explain. We must go there at once!”
CHAPTER 34: WATSON
I raced up the path towards the construction site. Zoe, exhausted by her ordeal, had fallen behind, but when I would have helped her, she had waved me to go on.
“Sonnebourne’s men have buried dynamite! He will detonate it and blow up the dam!”
I reached the top of the path, where a wooden fence separated me from the earthen barrier. At the gate within the fence stood a British soldier, holding an Enfield rifle, conversing with another man wearing the garb of one of the native workers.
“There is danger!” I gasped. “You must report to Kitchener—”
I got no further. The native workman turned, revealing Holmes’s familiar countenance.