I could still recall the small stirrings of hope I’d felt when I saw the telegram from the army. It took several readings, but when I finally understood that Grant really wasn’t coming home, the dam had burst and the flood of relief had carried me away. The telegram clutched in my hand had been liberally wetted by the tears of joy streaming down my face. I was finally free.
I had not mourned his death for a minute.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Though we had been with Nenet for less than an hour, the sleepless night finally seemed to have caught up with Millie.
“I think I’ll just lie down for a bit, Jane.” Millie stifled a yawn.
“I think that’s a lovely idea, Aunt Millie.”
“After I check on Lillian, of course.”
“Of course.”
Restless, I went in search of Redvers. Millie and I hadn’t been occupied with the dresses for very long, but I was still worried that he had set off for town and his mysterious chemist without me.
Instead of Redvers, the first person I ran into was none other than Inspector Hamadi.
“Mrs. Wunderly, a word if you will.” The inspector pierced me with his gaze, a bug pinned under glass.
“Inspector. How is your murder investigation coming along?” I managed to keep my voice calm and steady, although I felt anything but. The man had a way of unsettling me, even though I knew I had nothing to hide.
His mouth tightened. “Why don’t you leave the investigating to me, Mrs. Wunderly.”
“So you haven’t come to make an arrest, then.” I couldn’t seem to keep my mouth under control this morning. I was obviously in need of a nap as well.
The inspector took a step closer. “Do not worry. You will be the first to know if I am ready to make an arrest.”
I unconsciously gulped, and his smile of satisfaction grated on me as I cursed myself for showing weakness. Hamadi struck me as the type of man who fed on it.
“I understand you visited the pyramids yesterday, Mrs. Wunderly.”
“Yes, well, Mr. Redvers assured me that it wouldn’t be a problem.” I immediately felt guilty for throwing Redvers to this wolf. I straightened my back. “Yes, I went to the pyramids.”
The inspector’s face darkened. “Don’t leave the hotel again, Mrs. Wunderly. I don’t care who with.”
“Of course not, Inspector. I wouldn’t dream of it.” I gave him a wide smile and saw anger flicker briefly in his eyes. I had not made an ally in the inspector. He spat on the ground next to us, and as my lip curled, his own smirked.
But then his gaze softened a bit and I went immediately on my guard. “I heard about the incident with the scorpion.”
“Yes,” I said. “It was a bit shocking.”
“It’s fortunate that no one was injured.” The inspector gave a curt nod. “We are looking into the matter. I’m confident you will have no further issues, although I would ask you to be careful. If you are not in the hotel, we cannot assist you if something further were to happen.”
My eyebrows shot up, and I nodded faintly. The unexpected show of sympathy from the inspector confused my notions about the man, and I now wondered whether his command to stay in the hotel was because I was a suspect, or due to something entirely different. Like an impulse to protect me?
Either way, I was relieved when he turned on his heel and moved off in the direction of the tram line. I fervently hoped he was heading back into town; I preferred to avoid any further run-ins with the man.
Agitated now, I paced the hall adjacent to the front lobby as I tried to figure out my next move. It didn’t seem like the police were making a lot of headway in the investigation, despite the inspector’s confidence. On the one hand, it boded well that I hadn’t been arrested and interrogated again. And even though it seemed the inspector no longer considered me a likely suspect, it also meant that they were no closer to finding the killer. I needed to know more about Amon Samara, and I needed to find someone who worked at the hotel willing to give me information. I made a decision and headed off, my legs moving with purpose now that my feet had found a direction.
The clerk at the front desk looked relieved as I passed by. I was muttering a bit to myself as I paced, and he had been shooting me worried looks.
I found Zaki readying the dining room for the next meal. “Zaki, have you seen Mr. Redvers?”
Zaki seemed to be an observant fellow, and with his position, he probably knew a lot about what went on in the hotel. He stopped his straightening of the tableware and looked at me. “Yes, Mrs. Wunderly. He and Mr. Samara left together this morning after breakfast. They took the tram into town.”
This gave me pause. “Did they have breakfast together? Mr. Redvers and Mr. Samara?” I asked. I wondered why Redvers had suddenly decided to become friendly with Samara.
“They did, ma’am. And they left on the tram together.” He cocked his head slightly at me. “I understand you met my betrothed, Nenet, this morning.”
His sudden change of topic left me unbalanced for a moment.
“Oh, Zaki, I didn’t realize she was your fiancée. She’s lovely.”
He beamed at me. “Yes. Nenet and I live in Mena Village, where all our family lives. She often brings dresses here to the hotel.”
It was obvious he was proud of his fiancée, and he had every reason to be—both Zaki and his soon-to-be wife radiated warmth and good cheer. It was easy to see them as a happily married pair one day.
“Well, I can see why you would be proud.” I hoped I sounded as sincere as I felt. “She did an excellent job finding me a dress.”
His chest puffed even more, but a new concern cropped up. As far as I could tell, there was no hint of pity or interest lurking in the depths of his bright, direct gaze, and I crossed my fingers that Nenet would not feel compelled to share my secret with her fiancé. The last thing I needed was to become a topic of gossip among the staff at the hotel—any more than I already was, that is. Anna’s death was enough fuel to the flames.
Zaki had managed to distract me momentarily, but I remembered why I had originally sought him out. “Just between you and me, Zaki . . .” I started to say, and then trailed off.
“Of course, Mrs. Wunderly.” He seemed mildly offended that it even needed to be said.
I paused, considering the wisdom of what I was about to do, since it could lead to an entirely different type of gossip, but then I barreled ahead. “Well . . . umm . . . do you know what room Mr. Samara is staying in?”
Zaki sized me up for a moment, his thoughtful scrutiny making me fidget. “Mrs. Wunderly, you are not the type of lady who goes to a man’s room alone.”
“No, Zaki, not if that man is in his room.” I hoped he wouldn’t ask any questions about why I would go to Amon’s room while he wasn’t there.
He nodded. “I hear you are asking questions about Miss Anna.”
I nodded slowly, wondering just how obvious I had been with my intelligence gathering if the staff had noticed.
“I think this is a good thing to do, even though Miss Anna was . . . different. So I will tell you. Mr. Samara is staying in room 21.”
“Thank you, Zaki. I trust you will keep this to yourself.”
“Please be careful, ma’am.” I smiled and thanked him again, walking thoughtfully toward the lobby. I realized I had forgotten to ask if the men had mentioned when they might return, but when I turned back, I found that Zaki had disappeared from sight.
Shrugging, I headed to my rooms. If I was going to break into yet another room, I would need something to get through the door with. And a pair of light gloves. I had no idea how skilled the local police force was with fingerprint collection, and I had no desire to learn first-hand.
One could never be too careful.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I scoured my room for something to open a lock with, finally grabbing a pair of hairpins I didn’t mind sacrificing to the cause. I slipped into the hallway and headed for Amon’s room. I kept an eye out for
nosy guests, but the hallways were blessedly empty. Most were either enjoying the sights or taking advantage of the hotel’s activities. It wasn’t quite noon, so the day had yet to reach peak temperatures. Early afternoons were for hiding from the sun, and around lunch, foot traffic would begin to increase. I would have to move quickly.
I pulled up to Amon’s door, hoping I would prove to be a quick study at picking locks. I knocked twice, and listened carefully to make sure Zaki hadn’t given me bad information about Amon’s trip into town. Hearing nothing but silence, I pulled on my gloves, retrieved my makeshift picks from my pocket, and prepared to give them a try. A little voice in the back of my mind suggested that I try the knob before going to any great trouble, since I had no training or experience in working a lock open. The door pushed in easily, and in my surprise, I nearly tumbled into the room.
Catching myself on the doorjamb, I slid into the room more gracefully than I had been about to, and closed the door quietly behind me. My heart was racing—from nearly falling on my face as much from the fear of being discovered creeping into yet another room. Wearing gloves, no less. I was also terrified that Amon himself would be back soon—the thought prompting me to turn back and lock the door behind me. It would give me a few extra moments of time if I heard him unlocking the door.
The air in his room was thick with the smell of cologne, and as it hit the back of my throat, I nearly gagged on the taste. This would have to be a quick search. And I would probably need a bath when I finished.
I was surprised to realize that he wasn’t staying in one of the larger suites, like my aunt Millie’s. Instead, Amon was staying on the inside of the hotel, same as myself, without the stunning view the larger outside rooms offered. I thought it was likely Amon’s funds weren’t as extensive as he would have the ladies believe—or perhaps he was conserving them for his late-night gambling.
I glanced around the tidy room, and was surprised to find that he didn’t have many things with him—clothes or otherwise. I remembered his multiple suitcases when he arrived, and wondered where all the contents were stashed. What I could see wouldn’t even fill one of the bags he had carried in. I poked through his careful selection of clothes, unsure what I was expecting to find. I noticed that the few suits hanging in the closet were of fine quality, but upon closer inspection had been mended several times. I rifled through the dresser drawers, and found the same was true of his small selection of shirts. They were excellent quality, but the cuffs and collars had been replaced; it was impossible to tell how many times. As my fingers moved through his things, I made a concerted effort to leave things as I found them—I didn’t see any need to alert Amon that his room had been searched.
My eyes fell next on the ornamental couch along the far wall. The carved wood was inlaid with ivory, and the graceful lines drew the eye. I noticed something small and white standing out starkly against the sumptuous red brocade upholstery. It was the corner of a paper, secured beneath the cushion.
“Could he have been more obvious?” I muttered to myself as I headed for the couch. I lifted the cushion and retrieved the small cache of papers hidden there. I narrowed my eyes at them as I quickly flipped through the short stack. At a glance, it looked as though I held a list of payments, with varying amounts and initials next to each entry. The handwriting was feminine, but I wasn’t surprised that the meticulous Amon would have a somewhat effeminate hand.
The next paper appeared to be a list of artifacts. At the top, it listed a dig site that I knew to be within easy distance of Cairo—I had researched local sites before we departed in case I had the opportunity to visit one while staying at the Mena House. One item on the list was circled, and I skimmed the description of the small ivory statuary.
Something tickled at the back of my mind, but before I could get a grasp on what my brain was trying to tell me, I heard footsteps in the hall. I froze, the blood pounding in my ears as loudly as the noise outside. My eyes flew around the room for a hiding spot should those footsteps stop at Amon’s door. The closet was likely my best bet, but it would leave me trapped—or discovered, should Amon need to change his clothes after a day in the city.
The footsteps continued down the hall.
I took a moment to start breathing again, was reintroduced to the thick cloud of cologne, and with a covered cough went back to examining the papers in my hand. The last item in the stack was a copy of an English birth certificate for a baby girl. The date was nearly nineteen years earlier, but I sank onto the couch in shock when I came to the name of the mother.
Millicent Stanley.
As far as I knew, Millie and her husband had been unable to have children; yet I held in my hand proof that Millie had given birth in what appeared to be a rural hospital in northern England. The father’s name was left blank.
Even through my fog of shock, I realized that I had spent more time in Amon’s room than was safe or healthy—my nose and lungs still protesting at the smell. I grabbed the birth certificate and pushed the rest of the papers back under the cushion where I had found them. I listened at the door; hearing nothing, I unlocked it and scooted back out to relative safety. I nearly ran back to my room, stripping off my gloves as I went, the paper clutched tightly in my damp palm. I had no idea how to approach Millie with what I had found, but it explained why she had acted so strangely around Amon—her initials had screamed at me from the list of what I could only assume were blackmail payments.
I had pegged Amon Samara as many things—none of them flattering—but a blackmailer wasn’t one of them. I needed to reexamine everything I thought I knew about the man.
The papers also cast my aunt in an entirely new light—one that I had not yet begun to process.
As I reached the safety of my room, it occurred to me that with a stash of incriminating papers hidden in his room, it was incredibly foolish of Amon to leave his door unlocked.
And those papers had been awfully easy to find.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Once inside my room, I considered options for a hiding place. I needed to stash this paper, and I wouldn’t be able to use my trusty potted palm in the hallway. The paper was entirely too precious. I remembered how the police had missed the cuff links secured in Anna’s clothing and thoughtfully regarded my own wardrobe. My eyes fell on one of my sun hats. A wide ribbon wrapped around the band. I folded the paper lengthwise several times until it was only about an inch wide, slipped the paper behind the ribbon, and replaced the hat on the shelf. From a distance—and even up close, I hoped no one would notice the slight bump. Especially if that someone was a man.
Despite the growing heat of the day, I went for a long walk, after double- and triple-checking the security of my pilfered paper. I was already damp from my criminal excursion and I decided I might as well work up a real sweat. There was too much to think about, and I had nervous energy I needed to burn off. The paper I found held enormous ramifications for my family. I couldn’t decide whether I should confront Millie, or if I should be respectful of the secret she had obviously kept quiet for so many years.
It took more than an hour of wandering in the heat, but I eventually came to the conclusion that I would leave it alone. I had my secrets, and my aunt was entitled to her own as well.
* * *
By the time I returned, Redvers was enjoying a cup of tea on the terrace. He stood as I approached, and I pulled up a chair next to him at the blue-and-white–tiled table.
“You look a bit . . . heated, Mrs. Wunderly. What have you been up to?”
“Just out for a walk.” I lifted the brim of my hat slightly and swiped some sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. He cocked an eyebrow and I ignored him. I wasn’t overly concerned with social niceties at the moment, nor with how unappealing my display must be. “Where did you disappear off to this morning?”
“Just a quick trip into town. You’ll be happy to know that the doctor did not try to kill you—the powder was just that. Stomach powder.”
I glowered at him. If looks could kill, there would be another body for the coroner to deal with. “You went and had it tested without me.” The disappointment I felt at the news of the doctor’s innocence wouldn’t sink in until later—I was entirely too busy fanning the flames of my anger at Redvers.
“Well, I do need to keep some of my contacts confidential, Mrs. Wunderly.”
“But you made a promise.”
“Actually, I gave you my Scout’s honor, and I have to admit that I was never a Scout.”
“That is one of the most ridiculous excuses I have ever heard.” I was well and truly heated up, and in that moment, I decided to keep to myself what I had found in Amon’s room. It was childish, but I wouldn’t forgive him any time soon for leaving me out. I also knew that I was overreacting, but I wasn’t ready to examine why just yet.
I simmered in my seat for a while, nursing hot coffee that left my tongue singed. Redvers picked up the copy of the Egyptian Gazette he had been perusing, and let me be. He occasionally peered at me over the top of the newspaper to judge whether I had cooled off, and then returned to his reading, languidly turning the pages now and again.
“Did you learn anything else? I hear you had breakfast with Mr. Samara.” I was still irritated with him, but my curiosity eventually won out over anger.
Redvers put the paper down and smiled at me. I did my level best to keep that smile from winning me over. “I didn’t learn much, frankly. At least not from Mr. Samara.”
I decided not to pursue why they had been dining together like old school chums. “That sounds as though you learned something from someone else.”
“Yes, but I’m afraid to bring that up again.” His face was very serious, but a twinkle in his eye said he was teasing me. I made a show of rolling my eyes.
Murder at the Mena House Page 14