Storm and Silence(67)

‘Karim? Would you be so good as to search her?’ Mr Ambrose inquired.

The Mohammedan’s eyes flickered to me for a moment. He stood straighter and gripped the hilt of his sabre.

‘I would fight an Ifrit[23] for you, Sahib… but this creature?’ He gave me a look that reminded me of the way my aunt always looked at me. ‘I must respectfully decline.’

‘I thought so,’ nodded Mr Ambrose.

‘What in God’s name is an Ifrit?’ I demanded.

‘A powerful half-demon from Arabian mythology,’ Mr Ambrose informed me. ‘They are over twelve feet tall, armed with huge swords and have fists and wings that burn with hellfire.’

Dear me. I had no idea Karim thought so highly of me.

Mr Ambrose started pacing up and down with long, measured strides. I watched him carefully, my heartbeat still not returned to its normal rhythm. With his impassive face, fathomless eyes and long black tailcoats fluttering behind him like bat wings, he really looked more than a little intimidating. For a moment, I considered running. Maybe I could make it to the hallway and scream for help. Mr Stone would hear me. Maybe he would run for the police.

Karim met my eyes. His small, beady specimens weren’t quite as impressive as those of his master, but his were full of suspicion and animosity.

‘I sent Stone away,’ he stated. ‘The door to the hallway is locked.’

Mr Ambrose didn’t cease his pacing. I knew it wasn’t him the comment had been meant for, anyway. I gave Karim a curt nod, which he returned. If I had the slightest doubt before that Mr Ambrose could and would kill to protect his interests, it was now gone. With such servants at his command, the deed would be easy to accomplish.

I wondered why I didn’t feel more afraid.

Suddenly, Mr Ambrose stopped in his tracks and whirled around to face me.

‘You,’ he said curtly, ‘have placed me in a difficult position, Mr Linton.’

‘Because you have to kill me now?’ I inquired.

‘No.’ Maybe I was mistaken, but I could have sworn his jaw tightened a little bit. ‘Because I cannot kill you, Mr Linton. Any man under the same suspicion you are under now I would simply challenge to a duel and shoot like the dog he is. However,’ he paused for a moment to take a breath, ‘that will not be possible in your case, since you are… not quite as male as I could wish.’

There! That was why I was not afraid.

‘You mean because I’m a girl,’ I pointed out. ‘Which means I am female, not male. You can say the word, you know. It’s not poisonous.’

‘Oh, but it is,’ he responded, coolly. ‘Poisonous to my reputation, and now to my interests. I must have that file, Mr Linton. However, you were right: I am a gentleman. And because of that unfortunate condition you conceal under your trousers, I, as a gentleman, can neither search you nor kill you to gain what I must have.’

Unfortunate condition? God, this fellow really needed his head examined!

‘Why are you so bloody convinced that it was me who stole your precious papers, anyway?’ I lashed out. ‘Why so determined to think that I am the guilty one? Why not some other member of your staff? The file could have been gone for days.’

‘No, it couldn’t,’ he replied curtly. ‘Because nobody had access to the files in the safe.’

‘Nobody else had another key? And what about the one you gave me?’

‘Why these pointless questions?’ he asked, shaking his head. ‘We both know that you are guilty! There is no duplicate key, and the one I gave you was in my own possession the entire time since last Wednesday when-’

Abruptly, his head-shaking ceased. His whole body froze.

‘Yes?’ I demanded. ‘When what?’

Slowly he came out of his paralysis and turned his head to face me directly. His dark eyes flashed as though a storm was raging in them. For one moment he looked so dangerous I actually took a step back.

But then I realized that for once, his anger was not directed at me. A word passed his lips like the hiss of a snake preparing to strike:

‘Simmons!’

Karim let out a low oath in a language I didn’t understand. But the way he said it, I didn’t have to know the words to know that it was a curse. He had obviously understood. I, on the contrary, was still completely in the dark.

‘Simmons?’ I echoed, making it a question.

He met my eyes with his deep, dark, blue-grey ones.

‘Yes. Simmons, Mr Linton. Simmons, my previous private secretary. Simmons, who disappeared a few days ago without any explanation. Simmons, the treacherous snake.’

With a few long strides Mr Ambrose was over at my desk and started rifling through my drawers. The wooden ones in the desk, I mean.