Chapter 30 #2
Ginger’s heart squeezed. That was why Sarah hadn’t gone to look for her husband. She hated Paul Hanover for it. And Lady Hendricks of all people? Sarah was a thousand times prettier and more pleasant.
“Mrs. Hanover—”
“Please, call me Sarah.”
“—Lady Hendricks is the one who told me your husband’s real name. I was looking for Freddy Mortimer in Cairo and found her. She hasn’t seen him in months.”
Sarah’s face registered sadness as she blinked slowly. “Paul was worried about going to Malta. I’d never seen him like that.” She released a slow breath. “Let me tell my team we’re shutting down for the day. And then I can drive you back to Cairo.”
A gust of wind rustled the sides of the tent and Ginger gave Sarah a hard stare.
Osborne’s behavior had been more than suspicious lately.
Did she really trust Osborne anymore? “On second thought, why don’t we keep the information about Malta to ourselves for now?
We can tell the government officials in charge of this investigation you simply don’t know what happened to your husband.
If my father obtained that concession before the war, there’s no reason to let the government think they deserve a part of it. ”
A smile tipped Sarah’s lips. “I like the way you think.”
Osborne looked up from his notes as Sarah finished speaking. He tapped the end of his pencil against the book and frowned.
Ginger checked the time. She’d told her mother the evening before that she’d accompany them to the dinner at the palace this evening, but the afternoon was creeping along, and she hadn’t been home since. Would they leave without her?
Beside her, Sarah shifted, then exchanged a look with Ginger. She cleared her throat. “Is there anything else you need, Mr. Osborne?”
“Not now. You’ll likely need to make a statement before a judge about all this.” He set his pencil down and folded his hands together. “Unfortunately, Mrs. Hanover, I’m in the position of informing you that your husband perished.”
Paul Hanover was dead?
A crushing feeling overcame Ginger. Her family would never benefit from the concession, then. She felt instant guilt at her own disappointment—her frustration stemmed only from Paul Hanover’s inability to help her. Sarah had cared about the man.
Why didn’t Osborne tell me I was searching for a dead man?
Sarah blanched and Ginger offered a comforting hand for Sarah to hold. Tense silence hung between them as Sarah sat frozen for several seconds. At last, she gave one tiny nod. “How did it happen?”
“We don’t know. His body was found in the streets of Cairo in October, with only the scantest of identification.
He had a card in his pocket and it bore the name Freddy Mortimer, along with that of Edmund Braddock and the Arab Anglo Oil Corporation.
We searched for weeks to find more information on him, but to no avail.
” Osborne pulled another file from his desk.
“This is the information we gathered from the coroner.”
What were the chances of Mortimer carrying the precise information that they needed on his dead body? Astronomical. This didn’t make sense.
Sarah looked pale as she opened the file. The report had been typed, and the date on the cover letter was clear enough: October 23, 1917.
That was two months after Lady Hendricks said the government officials had come asking about Freddy Mortimer. Ginger’s expression didn’t change, but her heart rate did.
Something is wrong.
She clasped the fingers of one hand tightly in the other. The government officials—Osborne, she assumed—had known about Freddy Mortimer at least in August. Assuming the report from the coroner was correct, he’d turned up dead in October.
Where had Paul Hanover been for those two months?
“Lady Virginia?” Osborne’s voice cut into her thoughts.
She lifted her chin. “Yes, sir?”
His grey eyes glittered. “As I was saying, I suppose you’ve done what you could do.
I must admit, I’m pleased with your progress.
I think our business together is most likely at an end, though.
We can continue to see if we can find any indication of what Mr. Hanover was up to.
” He stood and reached out his hand for the file from Sarah.
Relief filled her lungs. Thank goodness.
Sarah clearly hadn’t finished with the file, but she closed it. A flash of confusion crossed her face as she handed it back. Osborne took it back with a polite smile. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Hanover. I’ll be certain to contact both of you ladies in the next few days.”
Ginger stood. Since Osborne was summarily ending her work, she should ask about how to proceed. But there wasn’t any need. She doubted Osborne had any intention of keeping his promises to her.
As she and Sarah left the office together, Sarah was quiet, clearly lost in thought. The street outside the Continental-Savoy buzzed with the life of a late afternoon, the day sweltering. “Can I give you a ride back to your house?” Sarah asked, going toward her motorcar.
“Yes, please, but—” Ginger glanced back toward the entrance to the Savoy. She climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door. “Before you go back to Giza, I’d like it if we talked to someone else. Would you mind terribly if we stopped by Shepheard’s first?”
Shepheard’s was only minutes away, but Noah didn’t answer the door to his room. Frustrated, Ginger went to the front desk to leave a note for him.
“I’m sorry, my lady, but Colonel Benson checked out of his room this morning,” the clerk said before turning away.
Ginger made her way out of Shepheard’s, a growing feeling of frustration and worry mounting within her.
How was she supposed to reach Noah when she didn’t know where to find him?
“You look deep in thought,” Sarah commented as they sat in the car once again.
“Mr. Osborne worries me.” Ginger directed Sarah forward as she pulled the motorcar onto the street. She was still impressed by the ease with which Sarah handled the car. Then again, women were driving ambulances in France these days too.
“Why’s that?” Sarah asked above the roar of the engine.
“Because”—Ginger put her hand on her head to hold her hat down as a sudden gust of wind nearly blew it off—“Lady Hendricks said that the government came to question her about Freddy in August. The timing Osborne is mentioning with your husband’s death seems strange.”
“Death is too soft of a term. Paul was murdered.” Sarah’s voice was dry.
“He didn’t just ‘turn up’ dead. Someone left him to be found.
And I sincerely doubt he carried a card with his pseudonym and your father’s name on it.
It’s completely illogical. Does the man think we’re idiots because we’re women? ”
Ginger had thought the same thing, but she was surprised Sarah was astute enough to voice it. The two women met each other’s gaze, and despite everything, Ginger couldn’t help but laugh. “Probably,” she said, shaking her head. “Most men do, don’t they?”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “If I had a nickel for every time people assumed Paul was the archeologist out of the two of us, I wouldn’t need investors.
” She shook her head. “A card with your father’s name …
ridiculous.” She gave Ginger a thoughtful look.
“But what does that mean, then? How did they know Paul was connected to the concession and your father?”
“There are only a handful of people who know of the concession, that we know of. What if one of those people started looking for the paperwork as soon as my father was killed?” Ginger mused aloud, unsure if Sarah even heard her.
Stephen had to have told someone about the concession, well before Noah had learned of it. It was the only thing that made sense.
“What do you think we should do?” Sarah asked.
“I’m not sure.” Ginger’s annoyance at not being able to contact Noah was a reminder of how quickly she’d let herself be spoiled by his presence the last few days. She’d spent most of their relationship without the means to contact him. And Lord Helton couldn’t help her now.
As Sarah pulled up to Ginger’s home, Ginger hesitated to see her go. “I would ask you to come in, but I have a dinner at the palace to get ready for.”
Sarah smirked. “You rich people say things like that as though it’s a normal everyday event. I have a less interesting evening ahead of me—watching the sun set over the Nile. Somehow mine seems a bit more appealing.”
Ginger couldn’t agree more. The idea of going to hobnob with society was tedious. “Thank you, Sarah. I’m going to speak to someone I trust about the matter. Then I’ll call upon you again.”
As Sarah drove off, a plume of exhaust drifted from the tailpipe.
Ginger was left standing on the pavement, doused in the fuel’s stench.
She’d left this morning with such high hopes—that she’d finally be on her way to finding Paul Hanover and the concession paperwork, finally able to help her family.
But she’d just hit another obstacle.
What could Paul Hanover have done with the papers before he’d died?
Sarah’s words seeped through her memory. Paul was murdered.
A grim feeling pressed on her. If Sarah was right, whoever had murdered Paul must not have been able to get the papers from him. Would that person have started his own search?
Ginger shuddered, thinking of how Osborne had reacted. Osborne—who seemed to hate Noah.
What if the person who had known about and murdered Paul Hanover was the same person who had tasked her to find the papers?
Noah had warned her to be cautious with Osborne.
Where was Noah?