"What have I done to you, Julie Stratford?" he said. "What have I done to your life, all your tender dreams and ambitions?"
She took her handkerchief out of her pocket and pressed it to her mouth. She forced herself to stop this foolish crying. She wiped her nose, then looked up at him, the great handsome dreamy figure he was standing there with that tragic expression. A man, only a man. Immortal, yes, a ruler once, a teacher always, perhaps, but human as we all are. Fallible as we all are. Lovable as we all are.
"I cannot live without you, Ramses," she said. "Well, I could. But I don't want to." Ah, tears from him now. If she didn't look away, she'd be weeping again. "Reason has nothing to do with it anymore," she went on. "But it's this creature you've wronged. It's this thing you've resurrected that will be hurt. You speak of burying her alive. I cannot ... I cannot ..."
"Trust in me that I shall find a painless way," he whispered.
She couldn't speak. She couldn't look at him.
"And know this, for what it's worth. Know it now because later it may bring confusion. Your cousin Henry is dead. Cleopatra killed him."
"What!"
"It was to Henry's abode in the old Cairo that Elliott took her. He did follow me to the museum. And when the soldiers took me away, Elliott gave shelter to the creature I'd resurrected. He took her there, and there she killed both Henry and the woman, Malenka."
She shook her head, and once again her hands went up to her ears. All the things she knew of Henry, of her father's death, of his attempt on her life, somehow could not help her now; they could not touch her. She heard only the horror.
"Trust in me when I say that I shall find a painless way. For that I must do before more innocent blood is shed. I cannot turn my back until it's finished."
"My son left no message?" Elliott had not forsaken the leather chair, or the gin, and had no intention of d
oing so. But he knew he had to call Alex before he got any drunker. And so he'd sent for the telephone. "But he wouldn't go out without telling me. All right. Samir Ibrahaim, where is he? Can you ring his room for me?"
"He's in Miss Stratford's suite, sir. Two-oh-three. He requests that any messages be sent there. Shall I ring? It is eleven of the clock, sir."
"No, I'll go up, thank you."
She leaned over the marble lavatory. She slapped the cold water on her face. She didn't want to look into the mirror. Then slowly she wiped her eyes with the towel. When she turned around, she saw him standing in the sitting room. She could hear Samir's low, comforting voice.
"Of course I will help you, sire, but where do we begin?"
There was a sharp rap on the hall door.
Ramses stepped back into the bedroom. Samir went to answer. It was Elliott. Their eyes met for only a moment, and then she looked away, unable to judge him and unable to face him. She thought only, He has had a hand in this. He knows it all; he knows more than I know. And suddenly her revulsion for the whole nightmare was insupportable.
She went into the sitting room, and took the chair in the far corner.
"I shall come right to the point," Elliott said, looking directly at Ramses. "I have a plan and I need your cooperation. But before I begin, let me remind you that it isn't safe here for you."
"They find me, I escape again," Ramses said with a shrug. "What is this plan?"
"A plan to get Julie and my son out of here," Elliott said. "But what happened after I left? You want to tell me?"
"She is as you described her. Mad, incalculably strong, and dangerous. Only she is whole now. No longer disfigured. And her eyes are the colour of the blue sky, just as mine are."
"Ah."
Elliott fell silent, as if he'd felt a sharp pain inside and had to hold his breath to let it pass. Julie realized suddenly he was drunk, really drunk. It was perhaps the first time she'd seen him this way. He was dignified, restrained, but drunk. He reached out for Samir's glass, still half-full of brandy, and drank it almost absently.
Quietly Samir went to the small rattan drinks cupboard in the corner and got a bottle for him.
"You saved my life," Elliott said to Ramses. "I thank you for that."
Ramses shrugged. But the tone of all this struck Julie as curious. It was intimate, as though these two men knew each other quite well. There was no animosity.
"What is this plan?" Ramses said.
"You must cooperate. You must tell lies. You must do that effectively. And the end result will be that you are cleared of the crimes of which you're suspected, and Julie and Alex will be free to leave here. Samir also will no longer be under suspicion. Then other matters can be attended to...."