Chapter Forty-three
Weeks passed, but Chantelle had no luck in hearing that angry voice again.
Jamil kept her informed of the progress he made, but he had reached a dead end, too.
The number of men called Ali who were still suspect had been reduced to five, and these five were watched constantly, but nothing came of it.
Short of having them all tortured, which Jamil forbade Omar to do, it became a waiting game, for one of them to make a mistake.
The women these men belonged to were also watched.
The money to finance the assassination was taken into account, and which woman was favored enough to have accumulated a sizable fortune.
But that wasn’t a deciding factor, not with the recent rash of thefts in the harem, the amount of jewelry stolen also amounting to a fortune.
It was really up to Chantelle, and she became anxious, realizing that. Jamil questioned her each night she saw him, and that only made her frustrated for having nothing to tell him.
Of the five women under suspicion, Chantelle knew only two of them.
One was a current favorite named Sadira, a woman due to give birth in less than a month.
Chantelle couldn’t picture her plotting anything other than the happy future of her child.
How could a woman order death while her body nurtured life?
Sadira couldn’t. She was not in the best of moods as her time approached, and her voice was often raised angrily against her servants. It wasn’t the right voice.
But the other woman Chantelle knew out of the five was a different story.
Noura was that other woman. Chantelle was not surprised.
She had already thought of Noura before that overheard conversation had meaning for her.
But Noura’s voice, that was the undeciding factor.
Chantelle had heard Noura speak in many tones, from peevish to gloating smugness, though not once in actual heated anger.
And unless she could say positively that Noura’s voice was the one she had heard, she wasn’t going to say anything.
She became Noura’s shadow, watching, always listening.
She even tried to prick Noura’s temper, but the desert beauty wouldn’t take the bait.
Once or twice it was close, yet Noura was quick to collect herself, almost as if she knew what Chantelle was doing and was determined to show herself as being above falling for the same snare she was renowned for setting herself.
Chantelle was almost at her wit’s end. She was afraid Noura knew she was under suspicion and so would be careful to make no mistakes.
She finally asked Rahine’s advice on how to get the second kadine to lose her temper.
Rahine, who was, of course, aware of the latest turn of events, was no help at all.
“It would only be a waste of time, Shahar.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know Noura,” Rahine said with quiet conviction. “It isn’t her.”
“I disagree. One of Jamil’s brothers is dead now. What if the other one is, too, and that’s why he hasn’t been seen since the attacks started? That would leave only Jamil and his oldest son to stand in the way of Noura’s boy, wouldn’t it?”
Rahine frowned. “We don’t know that Selim is dead. True, it no longer appears that he is behind this plot, but—”
“Rahine, don’t argue with me,” Chantelle cut in impatiently. “Just tell me how I can get Noura to lose her temper. If she isn’t the one, I’ll know it when I hear her voice raised in anger. What can it hurt to try?”
“Very well.” Rahine sighed. “The last time she threw a temper tantrum was when she had prepared for weeks to give a recital for Jamil’s pleasure, she and a half-dozen others.
She had memorized an exceedingly long but beautiful poem, and she insisted on her turn being last, so as to make the best impression.
But after an hour’s time, when the other women had all recited their pieces, Jamil was called away.
Noura plain and simply had a fit, I think mainly because it was due to her own instigation that she was last on the program. ”
“Did she ever recite that poem?”
“Yes, a few nights later, and Jamil was naturally pleased, so she was completely pacified.”
“Then that won’t do. Think of something else, Rahine.”
“She loves Chinese shadow plays. Come to think of it, I have the sketches for a new play in my apartment.”
“But will she agree to perform it?”
“She would be delighted.”
“Then that’s it. And when it’s time for the play to begin, Jamil can walk out, or fall asleep, or something equally annoying.”
“Yes, I suppose it wouldn’t be too difficult for Jamil to be annoying.” Rahine grinned.
Chantelle grinned, too. “Will you suggest she do it, then?”
“Me? It was your idea.”
“I’ve thrown so many barbs her way lately that she’s liable to bleed if I get near her. She certainly wouldn’t be open to any suggestions coming from me.”
“Yes, I’ve heard the complaints of your recent bitchiness.” Rahine chuckled. “Noura recommended I send you back to the kitchens.”
“Oh, she’d love that, so she can order another feast and make sure I have to prepare it again.”
“I’m sorry,” Rahine said soberly. “I didn’t know about that.”
Chantelle shrugged. “My aunt always said a little hard work never hurt anyone. And it was no punishment, Rahine. At the time, I was delighted to be in the kitchens.”
“But you wouldn’t be now.”
Chantelle gave a very unladylike snort. She had known that “I told you so” would come around eventually.