Covert in Cairo, page 9
“A jolly good idea.” I returned his smile.
He got to work immediately. “I say, might you help a chap…” Speaking in decent French, Clifford stopped one of the cast members. His first victim, er, interviewee, was a member of the chorus who’d just come around the corner from the stage. The lad was only too happy to chat with the winning captain. Clifford’s talent for talking to anyone about anything came in handy for disarming suspects and loosening lips.
With Clifford out of the way, I skirted a sandbag attached to the curtain ropes. Glancing up, I thought of a task involving the catwalk for Kitty. Her frills and lace never stopped her from derring-do.
I was just about to give Kitty her marching orders, when out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Mori Al-Madie dashing toward the theater’s back exit. “Follow her.” I pointed at Romeo fleeing the scene. “She’s up to something.”
“On it.” Like a comet, Kitty soared after the starlet.
I was tempted to run after them—I hated to miss the adventure—but I had to meet Agent Relish.
Where in blazes is he? Several stagehands buzzed around backstage, but none of them had black hair and a crumb catcher to match. Bad enough Agent Dankworth was missing. We didn’t need another missing agent.
“Miss Fiona Figg?”
My heart leaped and I swung around. Talk about mustaches! You could sweep the floor with Agent Relish’s spectacular crumb catcher. The matching hair was hidden under a newsboy cap. “Agent Relish?” I held out my hand.
“Discretion, Miss Figg,” he whispered as he glanced over my shoulder.
I nodded and withdrew my hand.
Rather than look at me, he tended to a rope hanging from a wooden beam. “The owner of the Isis is working with the Germans,” he said to the beam. “Somehow she’s getting information out. We need to find out how.”
“Mustard!” I heard the booming voice before I saw the large man to whom it belonged.
Agent Relish’s alias is Mustard? Who was Agent Dankworth? Pork pie?
“Stop dawdling and get back to work,” the man thundered down the hallway. “We want to get out of here sometime tonight.”
“Yes, sir.” Agent Relish wound the rope around an anchor attached to the beam. “Meet me in an hour at the entrance to the zoo behind your hotel.”
“How do you know Miss Al-Madie is working with the Germans?”
He narrowed his brows. “I’ll tell you tonight at the zoo. Now go.” Agent Relish flashed a stern look and then climbed a ladder up onto a catwalk.
I’d have to wait to find out any more information. Hard to believe the beautiful and talented Mori Al-Madie was working with the Germans. Why would she do that? Why would she betray the British? We were protecting Egypt, after all.
Now where were my companions? No doubt Clifford was chatting up some poor cast member. I probably wouldn’t see him again for hours. I exited through the back door of the theater in the hopes of finding Kitty.
The back alley was dark. The light of the full moon shone on figures struggling behind the theater. I moved closer to get a better look. A couple of uniformed Tommies had a young Egyptian woman pinned against the back wall. They were laughing. One of them had his hand over the woman’s mouth while the other tore at her clothes.
“Unhand her at once!” I marched toward them.
One of the Tommies looked over at me. “Why? You want some action too, sweetheart?”
“You should be ashamed of yourselves.” I stomped my foot. “Shoo!”
Both Tommies glared at me, but neither took his grubby mitts off the girl.
Obviously calling them to conscience wasn’t enough. They needed more persuasion. I tugged Mata Hari’s pearl-handled pistol out of my handbag. “If you won’t listen to me, you’d better listen to my little friend.” I waved the gun at them.
“We were just having a bit of fun.”
“Move away from her.” Holding the gun in both hands straight out in front of me, I took a step forward. “Now!”
Both jumped away from the girl.
“Get out of here before I report you to your superior.” I waved the gun again. “Hop it!”
They took off running, laughing as they went. Scoundrels. I had half a mind to shoot.
Once they were out of sight, I dashed over to the young woman.
Her shoulders shook as she adjusted her blouse and then tucked her hair back under her hijab.
“Are you alright?” I dropped the gun back into my handbag and cinched up its strings.
Her lip trembled. “Please don’t tell my father.”
“You’ve done nothing wrong.”
She averted my gaze. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
“As long as you’re not hurt.” I quickly looked her up and down. Luckily, I’d stopped them before they could… I shuddered to think. Poor girl.
I noticed a basket of clothes strewn along the alley. “Are those yours?”
“I’m in charge of the costumes.” She glanced back at the theater. “Usually my brother is with me, but he’s ill.” Aha. She’s the costume girl. If she weren’t so traumatized, I’d try to get some information from her.
I slipped my handbag around my wrist and started to gather up the garments. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
Plucking a stray Harlequin jacket, I noticed some words embroidered on its hem. Words in Arabic. Next, I picked up a silk chemise and examined its hem. More Arabic words. Were there codes in the costumes, too?
“Yes, miss.” She nodded. “Thank you for saving me from those British.”
I shook my head. Protecting Egypt? Rubbish. What proper Englishman—and Tommy to boot—behaved like that? Assaulting women? Disgusting.
“There you are, Aunt Fiona.” Kitty had her arm around Romeo, aka Miss Al-Madie, and was guiding her back to the theater.
When the costume girl turned to face Kitty, I stuffed the chemise down the back of my gown.
“I’m going to get Mori a brandy.” Kitty gave me a knowing look as she passed. Had she gotten some information out of the actress? Or had she seen me nick the garment?
The costume girl had taken the opportunity to grab her basket and steal away into the night.
I’d like to teach those rotten Tommies a lesson. They’d not only assaulted a young woman but also made yet another enemy. Like we needed any more.
I didn’t get the chance to ask her about the words on the hem of the Harlequin jacket, but I had got the chemise.
Holding onto the back of my gown so the chemise wouldn’t slip out, I trailed Kitty back into the theater. She led Miss Al-Madie to her dressing room. Still holding onto my backside, I held the door open for them and then followed them in. I glanced around in awe. I’d never been inside the dressing room of a famous actress.
An assortment of bouquets adorned the dressing table, along with make-up pots and brushes. A rack of costumes took up an entire wall in the small room. Aside from the wooden chair at the dressing table, the only other place to sit was a satin divan, which abutted the far wall.
I dropped onto the divan while Kitty helped Miss Al-Madie out of her costume. I took the opportunity to slip the chemise out of my gown and tuck it in my handbag. Good thing I didn’t take the Harlequin jacket.
Judging by the dark smudges on her cheeks and her puffy eyes, La Sultana had been crying. Sitting at her dressing table, the actress had given herself over completely to Kitty’s gentle care. Kitty was standing, fussing over Mori. It was as if the girl had put a spell on the actress.
At the risk of further upsetting her, I revisited the painful topic. “We want to find Jean-Baptiste’s killer as much as you do.”
She blanched as Kitty pulled pins from her hair.
“Why did you leave the theater?” I tried a different tack.
Kitty gave me a stern look. What had I done? I was just trying to ascertain why the starlet fled.
With moist eyes, Miss Al-Madie looked up at Kitty. “You tell Miss Figg what I told you.” Her voice cracked. She picked up a silver cigarette case and a gold lighter from her dressing table.
“One of the stagehands, a new man, has been spying on her, peeking into her dressing room, and following her.” Kitty took up a brush from the dressing table and ran it through Mori’s raven locks. “A creepy fellow with black hair and a huge mustache.”
Aha. Agent Relish. Of course he’d been following her. “Yes. I saw him too. You did the right thing, of course.”
She’d misinterpreted the nature of his spying. Just as well. If she really was working with the Germans, and she found out Relish was onto her, his life would be in danger.
“Is that why you’re meeting Mr. Carter again tonight?” A bit forward. But I needed to find out if his alibi for last night held. “To protect you from the stalker?”
“Howard?” Miss Al-Madie gave me a queer look. “Why in the world would I be meeting Howard Carter?” She tapped out a cigarette, put it to her lips, and lit it.
“Didn’t you have a drink with him last night after the ball?”
“Heavens, no.” She grabbed the brush out of Kitty’s hand. “He’s always asking.” She ran the brush through her hair with punishing force. “And I’m always refusing.” A strangled laugh gurgled up in her throat. “I’m too old for him anyway.”
Odd. What did she mean by that? He was a good fifteen years older than she. Was she counting in dog years? Perhaps she meant her soul was too old for him. Unless she meant Mr. Carter’s relationship with the even younger Lady Evelyn.
“You’re referring to his liaison with the young Miss Carnarvon?” I took the opportunity to examine the costumes hanging from the rack. Sliding my hand down the velvety fabric of a gown, I lifted its hem. In the dim light of the dressing room, I didn’t see anything untoward.
The actress laughed. “How rude of me.” She snapped open the cigarette case. “Want a smoke?” She held the case up for Kitty, who to my dismay took one. Miss Al-Madie lit Kitty’s and then her own. She held the case out to me.
I shook my head. It was bad enough being in the room with the foul smoke. I couldn’t imagine intentionally inhaling the poison.
“I’m not the one you should be interrogating about Howard.” She took a big drag of her cigarette and then blew a cloud my way. “Like I said. I’m too old for him.”
And just like that, Howard Carter’s alibi went up in smoke.
9
THE MEETING
Pacing back and forth in front of the entrance to Shepheard’s Zoo, I glanced at my watch. Agent Relish was late. He’d said to meet him here at midnight. Where was he?
My footfalls illuminated only by moonlight, I had to watch my step. The ground was uneven with patches of soft sand threatening to twist my ankle. In the darkness, the silhouettes of swaying palm trees menaced my thoughts like giant adversaries. A cool breeze sent shivers up my spine.
I checked my watch again. Not that it did much good. I could barely make out the hands. Anyway, only two minutes had passed since the last time I checked.
A cracking sound made me whirl around. The noise had come from the direction of the back entrance to the hotel, which was several yards away.
While the hotel was brightly lit, the path from the back door to the zoo was dark. So, I couldn’t see a thing.
I pricked up my ears and listened. Silence. Staring into the darkness, I hoped Agent Relish would come into view. No one. Nothing. If it wasn’t Agent Relish, who was it?
I’d give him ten more minutes and then I was going back to the theater to track him down. I gave up pacing and leaned against the iron gate. Hurry up, man. I can’t wait all night… especially with creepy noises emanating from the bushes.
Training my eyes on the path, I waited. Two more minutes and then I was getting out of here.
As my eyes further adjusted to the darkness, I spotted shadows moving along the path from the hotel. Not just one, but two. Finally. Was someone with him? How odd.
I started toward the path. The sound of a girl giggling stopped me.
As the voices drew near, I took cover behind a palm tree.
I recognized the man’s voice. Mr. Howard Carter.
Where was he sneaking off to now… and with whom? I listened. Was it Mori Al-Madie? Had the actress lied to us? Perhaps she was closer to Mr. Carter than she admitted.
I peeked around the tree trunk.
Oh, my word.
A few feet away, Mr. Carter was leading young Lady Evelyn Carnarvon up the path. I’d suspected there was something going on between them. Disgraceful. He was old enough to be her father. I had half a mind to jump out from behind the tree and whack him with my handbag.
Holding my breath, I waited until they passed. Then I followed them at a discreet distance. If Howard Carter killed the Frenchman, perhaps he’d done away with Agent Dankworth too.
The moonlit path was narrow. A twig cracked under my shoe. Crikey. I cringed and squeezed my eyes shut, hoping the couple up ahead hadn’t heard. The loud chorus of insects made it impossible to hear what they were saying. Hopefully, it also made it impossible for them to hear me. All I could make out was Lady Evelyn’s nonstop chatter.
Mr. Carter led the girl behind the zoo to the barn. Was he going to take the girl away from the hotel at this time of night? Through the desert in the dark? I shuddered to think.
Mr. Carter opened the creaking barn door. He and Lady Evelyn disappeared inside. Imagine the scandal if anyone found out. Lady Evelyn would be maligned in the society pages of every newspaper from Cairo to Chiswick.
I marched to the barn door. I was determined to find out what was going on. I sincerely hoped Lady Evelyn was not involved in murder or a plot against the British government.
Gasp! A hand on my shoulder made me jump nearly out of my skin. My hand flew to my heart, and I turned to face my accoster.
“Kitty, what are you doing here?” I hissed.
She grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the door.
Squinting, I followed her around the side of the barn. As I did, my shoes filled with sand, which made it deuced difficult to walk.
“What’s going on?” I said once we were safely hidden from view.
“Mr. Carter and Miss Evelyn.” Kitty’s high-pitched voice exploded with excitement. She sounded like a teapot whistling. “They’re up to something.” Her eyes shone in the moonlight. “He lied about the night Jean-Baptiste was killed. And now he’s sneaking off with Evelyn.”
“Not cricket, to say the least.” I reached down, removed one of my practical Oxfords, and dumped out sand. Wriggling my foot back in proved more challenging. “What on earth are you wearing?” I looked the girl up and down. With her blousy silk pajamas, she looked like she’d come straight out of a harem.
“Bloomers.” She smiled and held out the fabric on either side of her poufy trousers.
The barn door creaked and out came Mr. Carter, leading a camel. He clicked his tongue, and with a groan the beast fell to its knees. He helped Lady Evelyn mount and then climbed on behind her. When he flicked a whip, the animal lurched forward and then took off at a walk. Lady Evelyn rode side-saddle in front of him, and Mr. Carter held the girl around the waist.
“Come on, Kitty. We have to follow them.”
Without another word, Kitty bounded off around the barn.
I couldn’t believe I was about to chase a camel across the desert. I shook my head. In the dark, no less.
A minute later, Kitty appeared, leading two donkeys. She pulled one of the creatures to my side. “Get on.”
“Here goes nothing.” I was as ready for adventure as the next girl, but really? A midnight ride on a mangy donkey?
“Get on.” She held out the donkey’s lead-rope. As soon as I took it, Kitty jumped onto her own donkey’s back and rode off into the night like an American cowgirl.
Confound it.
Headfirst, I threw myself over my donkey’s back. I hoped to heaven the beast wouldn’t take off with me hanging over its midsection.
What a smell! Warm and pungent. When I pulled my right leg up and over its rear end, I heard my bespoke evening gown with pockets rip. Not again. Another dress ruined. Espionage was deuced hard on the wardrobe.
Luckily, the War Office had allowed me to expense a lovely lavender number just before I left London. My last intact gown.
Even with the tear in my gown, I couldn’t spread my legs wide enough to ride astride. And side-saddle was not an option as there was no saddle. I reached down, grabbed the fabric of my dress with both hands, and split it right up the middle. At least now I could extend my leg far enough to grip the creature’s midsection with my thighs.
Next time I went for a midnight donkey ride, I’d wear one of my pairs of men’s trousers. Either that or get bloomers. Then again, it would take more than trousers or a split gown to make me as agile as Kitty.
I gently tapped the donkey with my heels. Nothing. I tried again. The blasted beast wouldn’t budge. With a bit more force, much cajoling, and a considerable amount of braying, we finally took off. Bouncing up and down in the dark, I trusted the animal knew to follow his friend.
My senses were on high alert. Everything was sharper and more intense in the desert. The heat, the cold, the sounds, the smells. The night sky was so black it was blue.
By the time I caught up to Kitty almost an hour later, I could see Jean-Baptiste’s excavation site up ahead. Breathless, I waved to her.
She stopped her donkey and waited for me. We continued together toward the dig.
Odd. There was a light coming from the entrance to the tomb. Why would Mr. Carter bring Lady Evelyn here? A horrible thought passed through my mind. Was he planning to dispose of her the same way he’d done with Jean-Baptiste? Or worse? As my mother would say, what of her womanly virtue? Heaven forbid.
In the moonlight, I saw the silhouettes of two camels near the tomb entrance. Two camels? Mr. Carter and Lady Evelyn were on one animal. Were they meeting someone? Why the midnight rendezvous? And why at the scene of the murder?
Kitty slowed her donkey to a walk and mine followed suit. As we approached the tomb, she held her finger to her lips. She didn’t have to convince me. My donkey was another story. With every step, the little fellow grunted as if I weighed a ton. I had been overdoing the toast and marmalade lately, but it would take more than extra toast at tea to make up for the wartime deprivation.
