“So your mysterious chemist told you that the powder was innocent?” I couldn’t resist a slight jab.
“That appears to be the case.” He wisely ignored my parry.
“And that would make the whole affair a coincidence of timing—Lillian was ill on her own, without any extra help from the powder.” The doctor hadn’t been trying to poison me. I wasn’t entirely sure whether I felt relieved or disappointed. If the powder had been poisoned, it would point the finger definitively at him, and we would be close to having answers.
“Yes. It appears that if Lillian already had a potassium deficiency, the sodium bicarbonate would have caused her to vomit. And that seems likely, especially given how active she is.” I nodded. “Although it doesn’t let the doctor off the hook entirely. It was still his gun that was used to kill Miss Stainton.”
I hadn’t been satisfied with the doctor’s explanation of the gun’s theft, so he was still high on my list of suspects. Right behind Mr. Samara, our resident blackmailer.
At the thought of Amon, it crossed my mind that Redvers may have a more nefarious reason for meeting with him at breakfast, but I banished it immediately. If Redvers was being blackmailed by Amon, he was unlikely to have a civil meal with him. And as irritated as I was with Redvers over breaking his promise to me, I simply didn’t want to believe that Amon had found out anything about Redvers that he could use for blackmail.
It troubled me that not only had I grown attached to the man, but I also didn’t want to examine any scenarios that included him in the role of a culprit. I reminded myself that I was usually a good judge of character—the exception being, of course, my first husband. But I had learned from that lapse in judgment. I would know instinctively if I had made a mistake in trusting Redvers so easily.
Wouldn’t I?
He might deceive me with the little things, like a trip to the chemist, but he wouldn’t lie about any larger involvement. Surely, I would know.
“Incidentally, how did you learn about my breakfast with Samara?”
I realized I had been frowning into my cup as I thought about the men in my life. Something I had truly hoped to avoid since my marriage years earlier. Yet, here I was, irrationally angry that a handsome man I barely knew had broken his word to me. A man I should not—was not—interested in.
Insidious things, men.
“Zaki told me. I asked him earlier if he knew where you had gone.”
Redvers gazed thoughtfully toward the dining room. “Helpful chap.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I spent the afternoon watching Deanna and Charlie play tennis, each cheating terribly and without shame as they laughed and batted the ball and banter back and forth. I wasn’t sure how they had talked me into accompanying them, but I found myself enjoying the distraction of their company. Millie was still sequestered with Lillian, who by all reports was feeling much better, so Redvers and I joined the Parkses for dinner that night. He and I both laughed loud and often. It was a welcome distraction from the events of the days prior, and for an evening, I managed to forget the growing list of things I was worried about.
When morning came, I found that I had slept better than anticipated for once and that I was actually looking forward to the evening’s events, despite the inevitable dancing. As much as I enjoyed a party, I had never found dancing to be a pleasant way to spend my time. I wasn’t entirely uncoordinated, only when it came to finding a beat—I had an absolute inability to keep or maintain a rhythm. But I looked forward to playing dress-up and enjoying my friends’ company.
I spent the day unwinding, drinking tea, and lounging about my room. It was the most relaxing I had done since we arrived, and exactly what I needed to reestablish my equilibrium. After a late afternoon nap, I decided to take a long soak in my tub. I finally put the delicious jasmine-scented bath salts to good use, occasionally refilling the warm water, only getting out once my fingers and toes were wrinkled beyond recognition.
I took extra time with my makeup that evening, not bothering to fuss over my hair since the head scarf would cover most of it. I slid on the dress and was thankful for my aunt and her generosity—something I needed to tell her once again. I chose a pair of silver heels that were a bit higher than I normally wore, but were perfect with the dress.
I set off toward Millie’s room, having agreed to assist Millie with her own primping, but I found that someone else had already beat me to it, and my help was completely unnecessary.
“Millie! You look lovely,” I said as I took her in. Lillian and Marie had styled Millie’s long gray hair in as much of a modern style as was possible, with marcel waves along the side of her face and a low bun at her neck. It took ten years off her age. Her makeup was carefully done and the dress she had chosen suited her well. She grumbled at my compliment, but looked pleased all the same.
The two girls were wearing similar dresses, in the same style, but differing colors—Lillian opting for a bright orange-and-red number, and Marie in a sedate cobalt blue. Both dresses were loose and flowing, but with sparkles and beading galore. Lillian still looked a bit wan, although cheerful, and Marie was positively sparkling. The excitement of the night brightened her features, and I felt buoyed by the girls’ energy as we headed down to the terrace.
The party was in full swing when we arrived. It was obvious, judging by the number of people in attendance, that guests of the posh hotels in Cairo had been invited to join the revelry. White-robed waiters moved among the large crowd, passing out drinks, and through the swell of bodies, I caught a glimpse of Zaki directing his staff’s traffic. A large area of the terrace had been cleared for dancing, and a small musical ensemble was crowded at one end, providing the music. Lively jazz floated out over the crowd. I recognized the song they were currently playing, “Everybody Loves My Baby.”
Redvers appeared behind me, nearly causing me to jump yet again. Instead of opting for the traditional Egyptian galabieh, which most of the men wore, Redvers was devastating in a simple black tuxedo. His dark chestnut hair shone in the moonlight and his dark eyes glittered.
“You really need to stop sneaking up on people,” I said.
“You should learn to be more observant.” He gave me a dangerous smile. I would have had a sharp reply, but he handed me a drink and gave a wink to Aunt Millie. I took a tentative drink. It was a lemon gin fizz, my favorite.
“You look simply stunning, Mrs. Stanley.”
Millie seemed entirely charmed by Redvers, and instead of giving him the harsh reply I expected, or taking him to task for not dressing in one of the native “costumes,” I was shocked to see a becoming flush stain her cheeks. My aunt was actually blushing like a schoolgirl.
“You don’t mind if I steal your niece away, do you?”
“Of course not, Mr. Redvers. Have a wonderful time.” Mille gave me an encouraging smile and turned back to the girls. The trio headed off to the bar, happily chattering among themselves.
Redvers turned his attention to me and I felt my own face begin to redden.
“Would you care to dance, Mrs. Wunderly?” Redvers asked.
Even with my heels, he had to lean down to speak into my ear, sending an electric jolt down my spine. The noise level even in the open air was just short of deafening, and I blamed that as the reason for his sudden closeness.
I shook my head. “I’m afraid not, Mr. Redvers. My dancing skills are somewhat suspect.” I hoped he would leave it there, but my refusal only made him look more determined.
“I’m afraid I can’t accept that as an answer this evening, Mrs. Wunderly. I’m going to have to insist. You look absolutely ravishing in that dress, and it would be a shame not to give it a turn around the dance floor.” His breath moved the hair near my ear once again.
I stumbled around in my head for a response. “Thank you.” Was that coherent? I wasn’t sure. It suddenly felt like I had a wool sock in my mouth.
Suddenly feeling shy, I peered into my glass, which was already half empt
y. I wondered where the first half of that drink had gone to. I looked at the ground. Had I spilled it? I couldn’t possibly have drunk it already.
Redvers plucked the suddenly fascinating glass from my hand, and, handing it to the nearest waiter along with his own, led me toward the dance floor. I suddenly remembered why I said no in the first place.
“I really can’t dance, Mr. Redvers.” I tried my best to hang back.
“Nonsense,” he said. “I think you just haven’t had the right partner.” I shook my head. He swung me into his arms and led me in a graceful arc around the floor. His arm was strong and sure against my back.
“See? You dance beauti . . .” He wasn’t even able to finish his thought before I accidentally trod on his foot. “Never mind.” He shook his head. “Forget I said anything.”
“I tried to warn you,” I said. “I haven’t any rhythm. We can stop anytime you would like. I would hate to see you crippled.”
“No, no.” He grimaced. “This was my idea, and I fully intend to see this to the end . . . of this song, at least.” We spun again and my heel connected with a man behind us, who immediately reached down to the fresh wound on his calf, hopping on one leg as his dance partner looked on in confusion. Redvers quickly maneuvered us away from the poor soul and I couldn’t help but laugh—Redvers’ face was priceless.
“Those shoes are sharp.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, should I need a weapon.”
“They’ll do as one.” He glanced over my shoulder. “I hope you didn’t draw blood from that poor bloke.” Redvers soldiered on to the end, and barely even limped off the dance floor when the song finally came to a close.
I flagged down another waiter and procured us two new drinks, one of which he gratefully took from me.
“I thought you were exaggerating.” He took a long drink from his glass.
“I was not.”
“I’ll never doubt you again.” His smile was warm, even after the spectacle he had just witnessed. My own lips tipped up in return.
“But for everyone’s safety, perhaps we should stand even farther away.” I laughed and we moved closer to the bar.
It was hard to talk without raising our voices, but Redvers stuck close. So close that after a bit, I decided I needed to give my galloping heart rate a break. I caught sight of Millie and the girls and decided to see how they were doing.
“I think I should check in with my aunt.” I pointed in her direction with my chin.
“I’ll just grab us another drink,” Redvers said. “And maybe I’ll take a walk through the crowd and get a sense of where all the players are tonight.”
He had been such a distraction that I had nearly forgotten I was supposed to be investigating a murder and keeping an eye on our suspects. I found myself squelching a feeling of disappointment that he still had a clear head about him and wasn’t as equally distracted by my proximity. Then I gave myself a stern lecture on the dangers of letting a man close to me again.
I moved through the press of bodies toward where I had last seen Millie, but before I had gone five steps, a hand caught my elbow.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Miss Wunderly!” The colonel was decked out in a navy blue galabieh with matching turban, and he moved in the foreign outfit as though he was at home in it. His ever-present cane marked out a bit of space around him. “You look lovely, my dear.”
“Thank you. You look well yourself, Colonel.” I was about to comment on his robes, when I was jostled from behind. I turned to find myself nearly nose to nose with Dr. Williams.
“Ah, Mrs. Wunderly.” The doctor seemed neither pleased nor troubled to see me.
“Major Williams,” the colonel said cheerfully, and they clasped their hands together in a friendly handshake. It seemed the two men were better acquainted than I thought. When the colonel had spoken to me about the doctor, I assumed that the men had a mere passing acquaintance. But upon further reflection, both were former military, and Dr. Williams had been called to the scene of Anna’s death. There were a number of places they could know one another from, and the hotel wasn’t so crowded that they would not have met on more than one occasion.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Major? Or are you on duty this evening?” the colonel asked.
The doctor gave a short bark of laughter. “It’s a good night, and I happen to have it off, for once. Heading to the tables, Colonel?” The doctor bounced lightly on the balls of his feet.
“I am, I am. But not those high-stakes tables you seem to prefer. Too rich for my blood.”
My eyebrows crept up. I was surprised that the colonel would spend the night gambling after the death of his child only days before, but I reflected that he probably needed a distraction. Stewing alone in grief wasn’t the healthiest option for anyone.
“Are there many women in the gambling room?” I found myself asking.
“Well, of course, there are,” he replied as the doctor shrugged. “My Anna caught the gambling fever from me, unfortunately. She spent quite a few nights in there, before . . . well . . .” He stopped and the doctor clapped him on the shoulder, shooting me a dark look that I found myself resenting.
It wasn’t as if I had meant to bring up his daughter—although I did recall that Charlie had mentioned Anna’s skill at the table. And since my curiosity about the young woman had prompted the question, perhaps I was in the wrong, after all. I gave the doctor an apologetic smile.
The colonel gave a shake of his head and changed the conversation in a direction that left me agape. “Have they found your service weapon yet, Major? A damn shame.”
Given that it was the weapon that had killed his daughter, I was shocked he would bring it up. I was also surprised he didn’t seem to hold the doctor responsible in any way.
“Not yet, although I’m not sure they would tell me if they had. Hamadi isn’t the most helpful of chaps under any circumstance.”
At least my initial impression of the inspector seemed universal.
“Do you know how they got hold of it?” The colonel’s voice was mild, but his eyes were sharp.
“I’m pretty sure it was in my rooms. I didn’t carry it with me at the hotel or when I was in the city. Didn’t want it stolen.” The doctor’s mouth twisted at the corners in a wry smile.
“You mean at the opium dens?” I heard my voice ask. My eyes widened slightly in shock. My mouth had gotten ahead of my brain again.
The doctor’s eyebrows drew together and I prepared myself for whatever he meant to dish out, when he threw his head back and barked a series of laughs. “No, I would never take it to the dens, Mrs. Wunderly. Too much trouble there.”
The colonel nodded sagely in agreement. “The major does a lot of good in those places, but they are a bit rough.” He gave the doctor an approving look, and I looked back and forth between the two of them in confusion.
“He tries to pull as many former soldiers from those dark holes as he can and get them cleaned up. Too many good men lost to their memories of the war and the pull of the pipe,” the colonel explained.
My mouth opened and closed a few times like a guppy. I finally closed it and gave both men a weak smile.
The doctor clapped a hand on both our backs as though the three of us were old war chums. “Now, I see a young lady over there who could do with a turn around the dance floor. She looks much better, I see.” I followed the direction of his gaze and realized he was talking about Lillian. She did look rosy-cheeked, and was conversing gaily with Marie and Millie.
The colonel grinned his approval. “If you’ll excuse me as well, Miss Wunderly. I’m afraid the tables call.” He turned his smile to me. “But it was a delight to see you, as always.”
I smiled at him and he gave a small salute as he departed. I watched him move expertly through the crowd, and I edged forward to keep him in my sight line. He easily slid back inside the hotel and continued across the saloon before pausing to speak to Zaki. With a smile, Zaki slid a hand into his
robes. He withdrew his hand quickly and appeared to pass something to Colonel Stainton in a handshake—although with the distance, it was impossible to tell. The colonel returned the smile, clapped Zaki on the back, and the two men moved off together in the direction of the gaming room.
I muttered a curse. If Zaki had passed something to the colonel, it had been small. I was very curious about what it could be, but I also knew there was no easy way to find out. With a small sigh of defeat, I moved off on the trajectory the doctor had taken, toward my aunt and her young charges.
By the time I reached the ladies, the doctor was out on the floor with Lillian. Marie was glaring at the pair, arms crossed and a petulant look on her face. Millie seemed indifferent. I stepped to the far side of Millie, away from Marie.
“You don’t object to this?” I motioned with my head toward the doctor and Lillian on the dance floor. “He’s quite a bit older than she is.”
“Nonsense, Jane. It’s just a dance.” Millie sipped contentedly at her highball. “She was merely being polite when she accepted. Besides, the doctor does a lot of good work in this community.”
I shook my head. It seemed that either Redvers had gotten bad information from his contacts, or he had fed me bad information intentionally. All outside reports were pointing to a different picture of the doctor than we had put together.
I spotted Charlie and Deanna on the outskirts of the festivities and decided that some gaiety was exactly what I needed—everyone else was confounding me, and I didn’t want to spoil the evening with too much thinking. The farther away from the bar I moved, the easier it was to hear, and I was relieved that they had situated themselves where we might actually be able to hear one another without shouting.
Deanna was decked out in a similar costume to my own—a dress for traditional dance, instead of the looser galabieh robe. Hers was a shimmering number that reminded me of the night sky as it hovered between black and blue. Her eye makeup was dramatic, and I could easily imagine her captivating an audience from the stage. Charlie wore a red galabieh with a matching turban. I saw his hand reach up to smooth his cowlick and stop short when it found fabric, instead.
Murder at the Mena House Page 15