Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
A hawk screamed overhead, and Noah squinted into the crystalline sky.
The sun had reached the highest point, but here the heat never lost its intensity during the day.
The unforgiving surroundings, the barren Sahara Desert with its golden glow and smooth curving dunes, felt especially ominous today.
Nothing moved near here. He tasted the sand on his lips.
Noah closed the door to the motorcar he’d borrowed from Alastair. He squinted, shielding his eyes as he looked toward the building where Lord Helton had brought him to visit Stephen before. In the daytime it appeared even more abandoned than it had at night.
No guards greeted him.
A flush of adrenaline tingled through his body as he came closer. He pulled out his revolver and held it in both hands.
“Hello?” His voice fell into the emptiness of the void around him.
The door to the place was open a crack.
Noah’s heart thudded as he edged the door open. No one.
Not a footstep. Not a shuffle.
Just the sound of his own breath.
No one had followed him here. He’d been keeping an eye out for a shadow since he’d left Cairo anyway.
He hesitated, then slipped into the building. Where guards had sat before, there was only dust.
He followed the hallway toward the cell where Stephen had been kept. He could practically visualize him there, chains around his hands and feet.
But the cell was empty. The only trace that anyone had been here recently was the refuse pit, which stank even worse than before.
Where was Fisher?
Lord Helton had said he’d dealt with him. Noah hadn’t had time to ask for details.
A small square of paper lay in the center of the cell. Noah approached it with caution, his senses alert. He lifted the paper and unfolded it. One line, handwritten in a bold and elegant hand: “They will never believe you.”
Noah crumpled the paper in his fist.
Whatever game Fisher was playing, he was winning.
He’s five steps ahead of me.
He should have killed Fisher in Jerusalem when Jack suggested it.
Outside the cell, Noah found a staircase, then followed it to the flat roof. A buzzard flapped its wings as Noah stepped out and startled, jumping back.
He chided himself. The buzzard flapped again, then rasped a hiss, guarding a dead rat in its claw.
Finding his way back outside, he stared at the building.
He needed to think like Stephen.
But how?
Noah tore his hat from his head, then threw it onto the passenger seat of the motorcar. Even though no one was near him, he felt hunted.
The serene breeze of the desert swept past him.
Nothing about what had happened was coincidence.
Fisher must have known that his uncle was the head of the Aleaqrab. How he’d learned of Noah’s connection to El-Masry, he didn’t know. But it couldn’t be a coincidence that was the organization Stephen had sent Noah to investigate.
Neither was the timing of Ginger’s involvement with the CID.
Whoever Peter Osborne was, he was no friend to Noah.
Osborne was proof that Noah wasn’t the only one being toyed with. Ginger was being threatened too. And who knew who else …
He froze, his blood running cold.
What was it one of Masry’s friends had said the previous night?
“Our German friend said the device was safely delivered.”
German friend.
Stephen?
Just because Masry may not have kidnapped Helton and Victoria, it didn’t mean that he wasn’t involved with Stephen somehow.
And Masry was planning an attack.
Noah drove at a furious pace toward Cairo.
Fortunately, Alastair had the money and means to buy a fast motorcar, which felt especially helpful as he passed the soldiers and tourists who bumped along the roads of Giza in their carriages and slower cars.
They appeared carefree and bound for adventure.
How long it had been since Noah had thought of this land as an exciting place filled with the mysteries of the ancient world.
Victoria was right. Egypt was in his blood.
But he’d spent the better part of a decade in this country as an Englishman.
He looked like his Irish father, but that part of his life had also been lost when his parents died.
His aunt, who had married an Englishman, had taken him out of Ireland and done her best to stamp the Irish out.
Now, both the worlds he’d come from were at odds with the British government, simmering nationalist movements growing to a boil point.
As he was at odds with himself.
He’d become quite good at this temporary job. But he was aware of how finite it would be.
Enough. He didn’t have time to waste on sentimentality. Musing about a future that might not exist was also pointless.
When he reached Old Cairo, he’d been able to still his mind to a steady blank, one thing he appreciated about driving a car or riding a horse. He pulled into the alleyway behind Alastair’s house and parked.
Alastair answered the door immediately, which spoke to his constant awareness of company. He raised a brow. “And?”
“And …” Noah slipped inside the doorway. He stood in the dark foyer of Alastair’s house, his eyes adjusting to the relative darkness.
The foyer, one that led to a selection of doors. Alastair loved to cloak everything he did in secrecy, including any sort of visual hint where one was going. Noah knew from visiting so many times where most of the doors led, but not all. “Fisher is gone. There’s no trace of him.”
Alastair paled. “Did someone help him escape?”
“I saw no signs of struggle. No blood. The guards were gone, the entire place emptied. And this.” Noah handed him the note he’d found in Stephen’s cell.
Alastair’s eyes shifted as he scanned the note. His lips pursed. “Follow me. I have something to tell you.”
When they reached the top of the staircase, Alastair allowed Noah past him once again before he shut the door.
From here, the house appeared to be perfectly normal and elegantly decorated, with high ceilings in the hallway that led to a beautiful carved wood staircase.
But if one was invited to Alastair’s home, and few ever were, they’d find no front entrance.
Alastair saw him to the parlor, ordering tea from a servant along the way. As Noah settled into a chair, he unbuttoned the top button of his jacket. Alastair sat across from him, then offered Noah a cigarette.
Noah declined, a growing feeling of worry rising. Alastair seemed unsettled. “Has something else happened?”
“The man I had following Osborne for you—” Alastair removed a cigarette but didn’t light it. “He followed Osborne to the hospital. Shortly thereafter, I intercepted a wire. Captain Young is dead, Noah.”
Noah sank his head into one palm. Young had never been a friend of his, but he hadn’t wanted him to die either. And Young could help exonerate him. Had he told Osborne? Noah’s jaw clenched. “Osborne must be behind it. He wants to see me punished.”
If Osborne had gone to the extreme of killing Young, then he was dangerous. And potentially the enemy.
Alastair tapped his cigarette against the arm of his chair. “That was my thought. I have found out little about him. On the surface he appears admirable. He was a POW after Kut for a year, released in June after a prisoner exchange. He even has a few medals.”
Kut? That must be why Ginger had mentioned it.
Noah thought back on the disastrous siege.
He’d been a part of a group the government had sent to negotiate with the Turkish commander, General Pasha.
They’d offered Pasha a bribe of a million pounds for the release of the troops, which had humiliatingly failed.
Could Osborne know Noah had been involved?
But even if he did, he couldn’t hold Noah personally responsible for the failure of that mission. Or any of the other events in Kut.
The soft sound of footsteps intruded on his thoughts. He lifted his head, expecting to see the servant returning with tea. Instead, Victoria came into the room. “I thought it might be you. Any news on my father?”
Noah and Alastair both stood at her presence.
She sat on the sofa nearest to Alastair.
“No,” Noah said, sitting once more. “In fact, it seems I’m further than before in my search.
The Aleaqrab doesn’t appear to have your father at all and I think they may not have even been involved in your kidnapping. And Stephen has vanished.”
Victoria’s expression was blank. “Then who do you think is involved?”
Alastair watched her closely, his gaze analytical. “You might be the best clue we have about that, dear girl. Have you been doing those memory exercises I taught you?”
Victoria’s lips curled. “No, Alastair, and I’m not interested in reliving the experience just at the moment.” She drew a sharp breath, her eyes meeting Noah’s. “What do you have planned?”
“I don’t know.” Noah leaned back against the chair. “But I think it’s high time we tell the CID what’s been happening. I keep putting it off and it’s reckless. We can’t continue to fight Stephen alone. He’s winning. We need help.”
Victoria’s face flushed. “But, Noah, you know what they said. My father’s life could be at risk.”
“As is mine,” Noah snapped, irritated with her emotional response.
Any guilt he might have felt at hurting her was mitigated by the fact that he was quickly running out of options.
“I can’t do this alone. What’s more, the Aleaqrab is planning an attack and soon.
One man last night mentioned a device that had been planted at a location.
El-Masry responded it would only be there for a day.
And I’m not sure where they mean or when. ”
Victoria exchanged a glance with Alastair. “The sultan’s dinner?”
Alastair gave her a grave look. “That could be a good possibility.”
Noah straightened, alert. “What dinner?”
Victoria smoothed her skirt. “Sultan Fuad is hosting a large gathering at Abdin Palace tonight. I had planned on inviting you to come as my guest, but—” She broke off abruptly. A shadow crossed her face. “The who’s who of Anglo Cairo will be there.”
They were right. The dinner would be a perfect place to plan an attack. “Are the upper-class Cairenes invited as well?” That would determine whether Masry would be there.
“I don’t see why not,” Victoria said with a shrug. She seemed to have regained some of her typical cool composure over the course of the day.
Noah leapt to his feet. “Then I need to go to the dinner. When does it start?”
Alastair crossed the room. He opened a secretary on a desk and retrieved an invitation. “I sent my regrets …” He thumbed the envelope open.
Of course. Alastair loathed events like that.
Alastair checked his pocket watch, then looked at Noah. “In two hours.”
“That doesn’t leave us much time,” Noah said. Would Victoria be able to face society for something like this?
He didn’t have to ask. Victoria held his gaze. “I can take you as my guest. Knowing Alastair, he can outfit me well enough with what he has here.”
Alastair gave a smug smile. “Of course.” He kept disguises and clothes for every occasion and size. And had a knack for knowing what would fit. It was part of the reason Noah had tasked him with obtaining a trousseau for Ginger.
“Are you certain?” Noah came closer to her. “I know you may not be ready—”
“I’ll be fine, Noah.” Victoria smiled tautly. “If no one even knows I was missing, I won’t have to face their pitying looks. Besides which, if that Masry man you’ve mentioned is there and he plans to detonate a bomb, all those people could be at risk. My duty comes before my feelings.”
Duty before feelings. If one motto described Victoria and her father well, that was it.
She wasn’t wrong though. “Alastair, I will need you to come out of your cave for this. Even if you’ve already given your regrets.
Go to the CID. Or even those bumbling fools at the Cairo police. Gather a few people you can trust.”
Alastair gave him a mock salute. “Aye, aye, Colonel.”
“Just remember, no one is to do anything until I confirm Masry is present. This must be kept completely under wraps. If we’re wrong about this being the time and place and someone is indiscreet, Masry may hear of it and change his mind about attacking now and bide his time.
Then we won’t have any lead at all about when he might strike. ”
“Couldn’t we just arrest Masry? That might be the easiest course of action,” Victoria said with a frown.
“You know how these organizations work, someone else would just take up his role. And then where would we be? Besides which, we have nothing to charge him with yet.” If his uncle had more devious plans, arresting him on a charge that wouldn’t be likely to result in jail time might not be wise either. They needed more intelligence on him.
The dinner at the palace tonight seemed like a promising lead. But he couldn’t shake the nagging voice that told him he was missing something. Something that could doom him.