"But surely you didn't use your own name?"
"Didn't matter, the address was the same if anyone had cared to look."
"But you didn't find the treasures you were looking for did you?"
"No I didn't, but like you said, I had already poisoned the milk and I thought that everyone would think it was the brother. I was hoping to have another look in Albert's bags the following day."
"Except your plans went very wrong," said Frances.
"How do you know?" asked Orpha.
"Because this morning when I saw how Lady Pompress had been murdered I knew it must have been you. Finding Albert poisoned after the fact was easy to put two and two together."
"How did you know it was her?" asked Timothy. "She's a frail old grandmother."
"That's deceiving," said Frances. "Mahulda had proudly told me how her grandmother is the oldest woman to have summited Ben Nevis just last summer. No, Orpha is hardly a frail old woman, and I noticed that at dinner at the hotel, the first night we were all here that she was left-handed. None of the rest of us are, and Lady Pompress was murdered by a left-handed person. I believe what happened, was that Orpha had gone back into Lady Pompress' room to get the insulin just in case, when Lady Pompress came in quite suddenly. You," said Frances, looking at Orpha, "were startled and tried to apologize for an honest mistake, but Lady Pompress wouldn't have any of it. After she identified you as the killer of Abigail, she turned to leave, threatening to expose you, when you grabbed the lamp stand off the bedside table and struck her across the left side of the temple from behind, killing her."
Frances looked at Orpha and she nodded.
"She wouldn't have died if she'd just have minded her own business."
"I think rather she wouldn't have died if you had minded your own business," said Lady Marmalade.
"It doesn't matter," said Orpha, "as my granddaughter told you, I'm quite athletic and you'll never capture me."
With that, Orpha sprung up like a startled gazelle and ran swiftly between the tables before anyone realized what had happened, and darted upstairs. Fowler finally realized what was going on and chased after her. She was surprisingly nimble for an old woman, and she had just gained the element of surprise.
Everybody made their way up the stairs after her and Fowler. Fowler arrived on the top deck as Orpha sprinted to the end and jumped over the railing of the bow like a graceful diver.
They all made their way to the bow and peered over the railing, only to see a wet Orpha surface just a few feet away from the Cairo police boat moving up to board.
"Detain her," shouted Fowler.
He turned around grinning at Lady Marmalade.
"It looks like justice will be served after all," he said.
Frances peered over the railing and watched a couple of Egyptian policeman help a disgruntled wet rat of a woman onto their boat. She looked up at Frances with an upturned mouth and furrowed brow full of anger.
Twenty-Eight
Lady Marmalade and Florence were amongst the first off the boat after it had docked alongside the two Cairo boats on the west bank of the Nile. Fowler had told everyone that the Queen Nefertiti would likely be docked for most of the morning if not for the day, but that he was happy to give them a tour through the ruins of Memphis for those who wished.
Alternatively, he had called for an additional bus for those who wished to make their way back to Cairo or Alexandria in order to return home as quickly as possible.
Samuel and Maurice were debarking from the boat with their suitcases. There was nothing left for them on the Queen Nefertiti and having not found what they had come for they were determined to return home. However, that wouldn't happen for a couple of hours as the Cairo police still needed to collect everyone's statements.
Mahulda came off the boat not carrying any bags with her. She smiled at Frances and Florence as she debarked.
"I'll take your picture alongside the boat if you'd like," said Florence.
"Oh, thank you," said Mahulda, "that would be wonderful."
Mahulda walked several paces towards the stern of the boat where the boat's name was painted in an Arabic looking script. Florence readied her camera and looked at the young woman through her viewfinder. Mahulda put on a brave smile and the picture was taken. And for a moment, if ever so briefly, Florence had captured a small slice of effervescent innocence and optimism in Mahulda's face. A brief chance to cherish the reason for coming all the way to Egypt. A last, fleeting taste of what this holiday should have been for her. Mahulda walked back up to Florence and Frances. They were both smiling at her.
"I take it you're going to take the boat back to Cairo, rather than the bus?" asked Florence.
Mahulda nodded.
"Yes, I should think so. Perhaps it will give me just a chance of trying to enjoy what this trip should have been about."
"Good, dear," said Florence, "I think it will be helpful. Remember to give me your address so I can mail the photograph to you."
Mahulda nodded absentmindedly and turned to Frances.
"Why did she murder Albert?" she asked. "You never clarified that for us."
Frances looked out over the Nile. If it was true that you could never step into the same river twice, then you could never undo anything once it had been done. And perhaps that was the greatest tragedy that befell mankind. There were always second chances, but never retakes.
"I believe my dear," said Frances, "that the murder of Albert was unplanned and accidental. You see, Albert had been given a new room, and I don't believe your grandmother knew about that. She went into Albert and Abigail's original cabin hoping to find the stolen goods, not knowing that Albert had moved cabins and that he also no longer had the stolen artifacts. I believe she was surprised by Albert when he entered. She probably hid in the bathroom until she had her opportunity to stab him with the overdose of insulin. This whole affair is just an awful and terrible mess. Why Albert had returned to the cabin is something we'll never know. But I suspect he wanted to say goodbye to his sister one last time."
"Thank you for solving it for us," said Mahulda. "I feel so awful that my grandmother would do something so appalling."
Mahulda left Frances and Florence and walked over towards her grandmother who was being guarded by two Egyptian policemen. Frances and Florence watched after her.
"Poor girl," said Florence, "it's going to leave a mark, I'm sure."
Frances nodded.
"Why did you do it, Grandmother?" asked Mahulda, looking at her grandmother.
Orpha looked up with feigned pleading eyes.
"I did it for you. I wanted a better life for us. Those treasures belonged to us."
"They never belonged to us," said Mahulda. "And they were never worth harming anyone."
"You don't understand," snapped Orpha, her tone turning sharp ever so quickly. "You've always been an ungrateful and spoiled child. I spent everything on you trying to make sure you had a decent life and decent opportunity at something better."
That was a lie and Mahulda knew it. Her grandmother had spared as much as she could from any expense for Mahulda's enrichment. The only thing she hadn't spared was the rod.
Mahulda turned away from her and walked back towards the boat. Simon walked off and came up to her. His scar was shiny in the Egyptian sun, like someone had melted wax onto his face, but Mahulda thought it made him ruggedly handsome. He took her hands in his and kissed her on the lips. They walked over to where Frances and Florence were still standing.
"You two are taking the boat back with us to Cairo, Mahulda tells me," said Simon.
Frances smiled at them.
"Somebody needs to chaperone the two of you," she said.
Simon laughed heartily and Mahulda giggled.
"Is it that obvious?" she asked.
"What is obvious," said Frances, "is that perhaps something beautiful can come from this trip."
Mahulda and Simon smiled at the two of them.
"We're very ha
ppy to have the company," he said.
Fowler walked off the boat and approached the group of them. He was grinning as he had the first time she had met him.
"I think it's just the two of you for the tour of Memphis," he said. "Have you given the authorities your statements."
Simon and Mahulda nodded.
"I'll be joining them back in Cairo to give them my full account of the investigation," said Frances.
"I wanted to ask you what I should do with the artifacts," said Fowler. "Nigel is adamant I return them to him."
"I think not," said Frances. "They belong to the Egyptian people. Hold onto them until we return to Cairo when we can give them to Dr. Abubakar Haddad of the Egyptian Museum."
Fowler nodded.
"That sounds about right," he said, grinning.
Captain Wainscott came off the boat carrying his suitcases as well as Lady Pompress' with the help of Jafari. He walked up to them.
"I wanted to thank you, deeply, for finding justice for my Abby," he said, through wet eyes. "My life will never be whole again, but it brings me some comfort that justice will be served."
Frances smiled at him and patted him on the forearm.
"When we are broken it is hard to find the beauty that's still there. Yet it is by the fixing, and the putting back of the pieces that the light shines more brightly from within us. You will find that light again, Captain, you will shine more brightly than before."
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SOME OF MY OTHER BOOKS
I write two mystery series. A cozy mystery series and a hardboiled detective mystery series.
Lady Marmalade Mysteries:
The charming and warm Lady Marmalade is the Baroness of Sandown. But don’t let that full you, she also loves solving crime and crafting the best ever marmalade jam you’ll taste.
Check her out for some cozy, warm mysteries set between the two World Wars. You’ll find cameos by some of history’s greatest characters like Gandhi and Lord Mountbatten!
Anthony Carrick Mysteries:
The tough drinking, hard talking Anthony Carrick is an ex-LAPD homicide cop with a conflicted past. From the same mold of Sam Spade and Mike Hammer, he enjoys seeking justice for the downtrodden. Sometimes that means using his fists.
He’s a painter in his spare time and lives with a one-eyed rescued cat called Pirate. For fans of noir and hardboiled fiction, this is your stiff, tall drink of fun.
Also by Jason Blacker
A Lady Marmalade Mystery
Poisoned Heart
Loose Lips
Heartless
Misery's Company
Beggar's Pardon
Sins of the Father
Gandhi's Sorrow
Phantoms of the Pharaoh
Lady Marmalade Cozy Murder Mysteries: Box Set (Books 1 - 3)
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Anthony Carrick Hardboiled Murder Mysteries: Box Set (Books 1 - 3)
Head Case Trilogy
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Watch for more at Jason Blacker’s site.
Phantoms of the Pharaoh (A Lady Marmalade Mystery Book 4) Page 27