It was merely an observation. Not an interest.
I would never admit it, but the cold seeping into my clothing felt rather good—it was still a warm evening. I was, however, relieved that I had changed into darker attire before dinner. Sheer fabric and liquids are not exactly a recipe for modesty.
“Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry,” Anna said without a trace of sincerity.
“Not a problem,” I said. “I’ll just pop back to my room to change.”
“I hope I haven’t ruined that . . . charming blouse.”
I nearly laughed. A cat with claws embedded in my leg couldn’t have been more obvious. Instead, I smiled widely. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll send the cleaning bill to your room.”
I was about to excuse myself when I saw a flash of white linen pass by us, bumping Anna’s arm from behind, causing her to lose her grasp on the silver beaded clutch she held there. The clasp broke open as it made contact with the floor, and both she and I immediately bent to retrieve her things. Backed against the bar, Redvers couldn’t bend to assist us, but he helpfully pushed some items toward me with his neatly polished wingtips. I gathered the items nearest me—a tube of lipstick, a compact that miraculously seemed intact, and some stray coins. As I passed her items back to her, she quickly stuffed everything back into her bag. Then she gave the clasp a decidedly firm click, pressed her lips together and glared at me.
We could have stared at each other all evening long, but a “thank you” was never going to pass those ruby lips.
I decided it was the perfect time to make an exit, and I bid them both good night. As I wove through the crowd, I kept an eye out for the white linen suit that had collided with Anna, but he had disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared. I was sure it was the man I had seen staring at Anna, but I couldn’t imagine why he would have purposely spilled Anna’s purse. And it had certainly looked intentional.
Selfishly, I felt a twinge of relief that it hadn’t been my own public display this time. I was not a stranger to embarrassing myself with clumsiness.
Aunt Millie was chatting with two young women at a table as I passed by. I waved a hand at my soaked shirtfront. Millie gave a quick, exasperated glance to the heavens and continued with her conversation. I had no idea how many drinks she had under her belt, but I wasn’t worried about her. I knew she could manage on her own.
The majority of the guests had either retired for the evening or were peppered around the bar, leaving the moonlit hallways empty as I passed through. The heels of my shoes clicked conspicuously against marble and echoed slightly in the quiet, and I acknowledged to myself that the sound made me a little jumpy. The hotel was an absolute maze and I didn’t know where the gentleman in the white suit had disappeared to. Empty doorways opened onto dark and mysterious paths and I found myself hurrying a bit as I passed each one.
I could see the intersection where I needed to turn toward my room. But as I passed yet another dark doorway, a hand shot out and touched my arm.
I shrieked and stumbled forward.
CHAPTER THREE
“Oh, my dear Miss Wunderly, I’m so sorry to have startled you.” The colonel’s brows furrowed. “I saw you passing by and thought I would catch up with you. I would like to apologize for my Anna—I heard what happened in the bar just now.” He managed to keep his eyes on mine and away from the damp lake of my blouse. A true gentleman.
Hand to my chest, I could feel my heart racing, but I smiled and reassured him that I was fine. “I’m certain she didn’t mean it. It was just an unfortunate accident.” A small lie on my part, but an innocent one. There was no sense in stirring up trouble with Anna’s father. I dropped my hand and surreptitiously wiped my damp palm on my skirt.
He smiled, somewhat sadly. “I’m sure it was. She seems difficult, but she has had such a rough go of things since . . . Well, she is easily wound up.” He failed to elaborate, and I didn’t press him. It was an easy assumption that their family had suffered some sort of loss, most likely during the war. Everyone’s lives had been affected in some way.
“I’m certain it was just an accident. And truly, Colonel, no harm done.” I paused. “I’m sure I will see you at some time tomorrow. Please have a pleasant night.”
He smiled, obviously relieved, and patted my arm clumsily as he turned to go. I watched for a moment as he ambled down the long hallway, cane tapping, before I headed on my way. The wet shirt I wore was becoming more than a little uncomfortable in the rapidly cooling night air. I prayed I could make it back to my rooms without running into anyone else—carrying on a conversation while wearing a soaked blouse was . . . awkward, to say the least.
Once in my room, I stripped off the soiled clothes and rinsed them in the adjoining bath. Whatever Anna had been drinking was strong enough to leave a lingering odor, and I didn’t want either my clothes or my rooms to smell like a speakeasy. Once I was confident the smell had disappeared down the drain, I hung them over the edge of the tub, making a mental note to have them taken to be cleaned properly. Fortunately, whatever Anna had been drinking was light in color, so I felt confident it wouldn’t stain.
Instead of changing into another set of clothes for the evening, I decided to turn in for the night. Several days of travel, the excitement of the evening, and the mystery of a very foreign country left me barely able to keep my eyes open. I collapsed onto the soft bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.
* * *
The next morning, I awoke early and dressed in what I supposed would become my Egyptian uniform—a light cotton sleeveless blouse and loose-fitting skirt—and headed down to breakfast alone. I figured Aunt Millie would be sleeping off the effects of last night, so I didn’t bother to check with her. I felt certain the first I would see of her would be sometime around lunch.
I walked slowly on my way to the breakfast room, pausing to admire the architecture as I passed through arabesque doorways, dark and light marble alternating to form striking stripes around the rims. I ran my fingers over the cool marble, the smooth surface rolling beneath my fingertips. In the daylight, the same doorways had none of the menace from the night before, and I laughed a bit at myself—the hotel was nothing but beautiful. As I continued on, I noticed the potted palms scattered throughout the hotel, bringing warmth and life to the marble surroundings.
Within moments of my arrival at the dining room, I was greeted by a dark-skinned man with raven-black hair just beginning to show the signs of gray at his temples. He wore the customary long white robes of the hotel staff, but his ensemble was topped with a round felt hat in a rich red, a gold tassel hanging merrily along the side. His large dark eyes were warm and creased at the corners, framed with the kind of eyelashes a woman would kill for.
“Good morning, ma’am,” he said in beautifully accented English. “My name is Zaki and I am the head waiter here at the Mena House. Please come this way.”
As he showed me to my table, I couldn’t help but gape at the dining room I was being led into. It was a sight to behold—designed to create the impression of a mosque’s interior, it was unlike anything I had ever seen in a hotel. Or anywhere, for that matter. Numerous lamps of pierced metal hung from the high-domed ceiling, casting fascinating shadows on the white linen tablecloths and sparkling silverware below. The walls, windows, and ceiling were covered with stunning fretted woodwork carved in intricate designs. As we passed, I could see Arabic inscriptions worked into the patterns.
“Zaki, what are these beautiful wooden panels?” I asked, gesturing to the walls. He held my chair for me, then pushed it in gently before handing me the morning menu.
“Ah, you have excellent taste, madame. They are called mashrabiyas and were hand-carved by very fine artisans. They were popular many hundreds of years ago. The panels you see here were saved from a nearby town by the new owners of this hotel.” He beamed at me. “If you have other questions, I am always happy to help. I will send someone to take your order right away. Please enjoy your breakfast.”
“Thank you, Zaki.”
I decided on a simple breakfast of eggs and toast, handing over my menu and my order before taking in the rest of the room. There weren’t as many people as I had expected, even given the relatively early hour—but it was late September and the end of the off-season. The warm weather in winter and spring would surely bring more tourists from both the States and the Continent, but for now few had found reason to escape their own reasonable climates. I wondered if we had been right to come so early in the season, but I comforted myself with the hope that the tourist sites would be less clogged with visitors.
After my quiet breakfast, I settled myself in the shade of a large palm on the wide terrace behind the hotel. A postcard scene of the pyramids floating above the trees stretched out before me, and I found myself distracted by the view and the possibilities. I looked forward to exploring the pyramids and perhaps even some of the archeological dig sites in the area—I made a mental note to ask the colonel later if he had any special recommendations.
I had just picked up the book I’d brought along, when my aunt Millie appeared before me.
“Aunt Millie!” I was unable to hide my surprise. “I didn’t expect that you would be up yet!”
“My dear girl. One can’t lie about all day. I realize we’re spending a fair amount of time here, but it would be a waste to spend it in bed. These ladies are going to accompany me for a round of golf.”
I was so startled by Millie’s early appearance that I’d completely failed to notice two things—that my aunt had dressed in something resembling athletic wear, and the two young ladies from the evening before were trailing in her wake.
“This is Miss Lillian Hughes.” Millie indicated the tall, trim girl with auburn hair, who smiled a greeting at me, but seemed preoccupied, her eyes straying toward something beyond the tree line. “And this is Miss Marie Collins.” Marie briefly raised a hand in greeting, but her eyes barely strayed from Lillian.
“How do you do, ladies? It’s a pleasure,” I said. “I didn’t know you played golf, Aunt Millie.”
“I suspect there are a great many things you don’t know about me, Jane.” Millie gave a playful smile, and threaded Lillian’s arm through her own. Lillian smiled at Millie, and the pair migrated in the direction of the golf course, with Marie trailing slightly behind. My mouth was still agape as they disappeared from view. I had never seen Millie so physically affectionate with anyone, and I could not begin to imagine what Millie had in common with two young British women barely into their twenties.
Except golf, apparently.
Once I stood, I could see the green grass of the course lying in striking contrast to the gold sand all around. I hadn’t realized that there was a golf course at the hotel. It never occurred to me that something so green could survive in the middle of the desert, even though I knew logically that Egypt wasn’t entirely sand. It had the Nile, after all.
“Not one for golf, Mrs. Wunderly?” I started, then realized that Redvers had appeared at my side, stealthy as per usual. I truly needed to work on my powers of observation if I was going to survive the barrage of surprises.
“I’ve never been one for sporting pursuits.”
“Of any kind?”
I could feel a red stain creeping up my neck. I ignored it as I sat back down, gesturing for him to join me.
“Would you like some coffee, Mr. Redvers? The local brew is quite good. Or would you prefer a cuppa?”
He cocked an eyebrow at the British colloquialism.
“My mother was English,” I explained.
“Ah,” he said. “But you failed to acquire the taste for tea?”
“I’m afraid it’s fine for the afternoons, but I require something a bit stiffer in the morning. You never did answer my question. Can I order something for you?”
“No, I’m afraid not, Mrs. Wunderly. I have business in town this morning and was just passing through. Although I would like to continue our conversation over a drink this evening, if you’re available. I was disappointed when you didn’t return last night.”
As much as I shouldn’t—didn’t—care what this handsome and somewhat mysterious man thought of me, I was pleased that he had noticed my absence. Of course, I was also somewhat appalled at my forward behavior the previous night.
“You enjoy having a woman argue politics with you?” I hid behind my cup as I took a sip and avoided looking at him.
“I prefer an argument with an intelligent woman over two minutes in the company of a simpering one.”
“Well, I can assure you that I never simper.”
“No, I can’t imagine that you would.”
I smiled at him, despite myself.
Redvers retrieved his bone-white Panama hat from its place on the table and made to leave. “Until tonight then?”
I realized I had never answered his initial question, and lost a brief internal struggle over whether to turn him down. I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea, but it also appeared that my aunt had her own agenda and I might find myself more at loose ends during this trip than I had expected. It couldn’t hurt to have a few friendly faces in the crowd.
“It would be my pleasure, Mr. Redvers. Until tonight,” I said.
He rose and gave a slight bow before disappearing into the cool shadows of the building. I pretended to return to my book as I discreetly watched him over the top of the pages.
But as soon as he disappeared from view, my mind turned back to Millie, a woman I would have wagered could not surprise me.
I would have lost that bet.
CHAPTER FOUR
I spent the remainder of the morning on the terrace alternately enjoying the spectacular view and reading Agatha Christie’s The Man in the Brown Suit. I came up for air after a particularly riveting scene and realized that I was developing a slight headache. The unseen birds, which had earlier called to each other from their shady perches, quieted as the sun moved higher overhead, and the day was now beginning to swelter. Escaping to my darkened rooms suddenly sounded glorious.
An hour later, I emerged from my room to join Millie for a quiet lunch on her private terrace.
“Are you pleased with your rooms?”
Millie’s suite with its private verandah faced the pyramids themselves. My rooms were several doors down and on the opposite side of the hall. They had a lovely view of the gardens, but nothing compared to her spectacular panorama.
Millie gave a careless glance around. “They are sufficient.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, although I had been surprised my aunt suggested the Mena House for our stay—in my experience, she was more likely to prefer the more socially positioned hotels in Cairo itself, like Shepheard’s or the Continental. But I was delighted with the location. Flat roofs at multiple heights broke up the long white façade of the building, and the numerous balconies gave it a distinctly Arabian feel. Not to mention, it was directly in the shadow of the Great Pyramids.
It was also the only hotel in Egypt with a pool, which definitely added to its appeal. If the weather continued in this vein, I suspected I would be living in the pool before too long.
We settled ourselves in the padded chairs on the terrace. Mind-reading mystic that she was, Millie brought up the very subject I was hoping to avoid.
“Well, Jane. How was your little chat with Mr. Redvers?”
“It was fine.”
She fixed me with a disapproving glare. “I would hate to see you ruin this opportunity. I’m afraid there don’t seem to be many other eligible men here, Jane.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not looking for any.” I turned my attention to the lunch menu. I caught her disapproving look over the top.
“It’s been plenty of time since Grant passed, Jane. Time to move on.”
I kept my eyes pasted on the menu and prayed she would drop it.
She didn’t drop it.
“If only Nigel’s dear nephew had survived the war. You wouldn’t be�
�—she lowered her voice into a whisper, as if discussing a sin in church—“in your thirties and still alone. And surely you and Grant would have had children by now.” She sighed dramatically. “To be widowed at only twenty-two and left childless. You’re running out of time to have them, Jane.”
Tension crept up my spine and took root in my shoulders. I rolled them back, one at a time, before searching out an alternate topic of conversation. “Will you look at this menu. So much to choose from. What do you think you’ll have?”
Millie grumbled—noisily—but allowed herself to be distracted. Unfortunately, there was no doubt in my mind she would return to this particular battle. I knew Millie—she would never lay down her sword for good. She made her choice and I phoned our order to the kitchen downstairs.
While we waited, I tried to draw my aunt out about her morning playing golf with the girls, but she was unusually reserved on the topic, refusing anything but the briefest answers. I finally gave up and hoped that whatever was bothering her would resolve itself. I spent the remainder of the time soaking up her view.
After lunch, I returned to my rooms and my novel, but after a time, I became restless and ventured out again. A slow wander through the hushed halls soon brought me upon the colonel. He was dressed in what my mother used to call short pants, with a khaki shirt and a pith helmet, looking for all the world like he was going on safari. His cane was at the ready.
“Good afternoon, my dear Miss Wunderly.” He tipped his hat to me. “Have you spent a pleasant day?”
“I did, although I had to escape from the heat for a bit.”
“It’s the best thing. The only thing, really, until you get used to it. Once that sun is directly overhead, it really gets cooking.” I agreed and we walked companionably toward the lobby.
“Where were you headed just now, Colonel?”
“I was just going to take a stroll out to the stables. Wanted to see what kind of horseflesh the hotel keeps. Anna has been raving about the riding here.”
Murder at the Mena House Page 2