bent to examine her neck. “The point of injection was fortunate. It missed the arteries. It is my guess that your assailant had a small ring that would spring open and reveal a tiny needle. The needle had been dipped in the poison, which is not normally lethal. My supposition is that the incident was intended to make you very sick and dizzy. You were spared much of the discomfort thanks to your friend, who acted so quickly and called an ambulance. My curiosity is aroused, though. It is a very old poison not commonly used against humans.”
“You’re making us feel better and better,” Mauve said with a hint of sarcasm. “Next you’ll tell us that the poison is the weapon of choice of either a satanic cult or a terrorist group bent on killing all Americans.”
Dr. Mosheen laughed softly, but his eyes remained serious. “Not quite so dramatic. The poison comes from a common plant, therefore many people could have knowledge of its use. In a very diluted form it’s used to spray cotton plants to kill insects.” He shrugged. “It would not be difficult to find. An attack of this sort is not the style of a terrorist group. More likely the attacker was a common thief who targeted Ms. Corbet as a wealthy American traveler.”
“I’m sure you’ve informed the police of all this,” Harad cut in.
He saw Amelia’s eyebrows lift slightly, and he knew his tone had been curt.
“Yes, the authorities are informed,” Dr. Mosheen said smoothly. “They will want to question Ms. Corbet tomorrow, when she is completely recovered. I will send them to your hotel—”
“I’ll make sure she gets to the police department,” Harad said. “Can Ms. Corbet leave now?” He addressed the question to the older doctor.
“Yes,” Dr. Rashad said. “She must be watched, though.”
Kaffar Mosheen seemed oblivious to Harad’s terse behavior. He turned back to Amelia. “If you are staying in Alexandria, I’d very much like to talk with you about the sensations of the drug—and that interesting pendant you’re wearing.” He reached into the pocket of his white coat and pulled out a business card and pressed it gently into Amelia’s hand. “Please call me if you find you have a free hour. It would greatly help my research.”
“Yes, thank you, Doctor.” Amelia took the card.
Both doctors left the room, already talking about another case. Harad found himself standing at the door, feeling completely out of place. It wasn’t an emotion he’d felt often, and he distinctly disliked it.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Amelia said, “I’ll dress with Mauve’s help.”
Harad nodded and stepped outside the door without a word. He took up his position in the hallway, waiting for the women. Amelia was a burden transferred from his brother’s back to his own. So why had he gotten so irritated at the way Dr. Mosheen had been coming on to her? And it had been a come-on. Research! Bah! The doctor recognized a beautiful woman when he saw one, and he was not so wrapped up in his research that he wasn’t interested in making a move on the American.
AMELIA GRINNED as she looked into Mauve’s dancing eyes. “Well, that was interesting.”
“It would appear Mr. Dukhan has a personal stake in what you do, and with whom.” Mauve’s grin was delighted.
“Wrong,” Amelia said. “I don’t let men boss me around. Especially not men I don’t know. Most especially not a man with an attitude.”
Mauve reached under the hospital bed and pulled out Amelia’s suitcase. She lifted it to the bed as Amelia swung her legs out from under the sheets and gingerly stood, fighting a wave of dizziness as she clutched at the hospital gown. “These things ought to be banned,” she said. “They’re hideous. I wonder what happened to my clothes.”
Mauve shrugged. “They took you into the emergency room, and when you came out you were in this hospital getup. I can go check if you’d like.”
Amelia shook her head. “Let it go. I just want to get out of here.” Reaching for the suitcase, she started to unzip it, when she found a long slash in the leather. “Look at this,” she said, calling Mauve’s attention to the cut.
“When did that happen?” Mauve asked, fingering the slash that gave access to the interior of the bag. “Maybe it got caught on a machine in the baggage department.”
“I didn’t check the case at baggage. It was with me the entire time. I don’t know when it could have gotten cut like that…” She looked at Mauve. “The man that poisoned me, he must have cut the bag. That’s the only time anyone got close enough to do it.”
She thought back to the incident. It had to have been the man who’d poisoned her. Reaching into her bag, she got clean clothes and quickly dressed in a silk sheath and sandals. Just as the doctor had predicted, she was feeling better and better.
“If getting your bag was the goal, then the man had a reason to poison you,” Mauve said. “What did he think you were carrying in it? Money? Jewels?” She looked pointedly at the gold scarab on Amelia’s neck. “Sometimes it isn’t wise to wear expensive jewelry when you travel.”
“Beth told me to wear this necklace. I thought it was so that you could identify me.”
“As if I could miss you after listening to Beth talk about you for months on end,” Mauve said, making a mock face. “Beth told you to wear the necklace?”
“When she sent it, the note said to wear it.” Her fingers went to the scarab. “What kind of bug is it?”
Mauve rolled her eyes. “Jeez, Amelia. It’s the beetle of the tombs. It’s sort of the scavenger bug.” She hesitated. “It feeds off the bodies.”
Amelia’s hand dropped the pendant. “Beth never had that kind of sense of humor.”
“It’s an expensive piece. The gold looks pure and the craftsmanship is exquisite.”
“Maybe so, but it isn’t exactly the kind of gift Beth would normally send to me.” Amelia’s long fingers went back to the pendant. She was troubled by the scarab and what it might represent. Had Beth been trying to send some kind of message? The best thing to do would be to find Beth and ask her in person. Her sister was a lot more important than even the premier French-perfume account.
“Ready?” Mauve asked.
“Yes.” Amelia took a deep breath. “I suppose we’re going to have to allow Mr. Dukhan to take us to the hotel he’s selected for us.”
“Don’t make it sound like such a sacrifice. The Abbula is a wonderful old hotel. Expensive, I might add. And as for Harad Dukhan, I think I could easily take a few orders from him.”
Amelia laughed despite herself. “He is rather good-looking,” she admitted.
“That, my dear, is the understatement of the year.”
“Okay, he’s drop-dead gorgeous,” Amelia conceded. “But just because he’s attractive doesn’t mean he’s a nice man.”
“Now that sounds like your sister, Beth. The old ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ routine. Honestly, if I’m going to be bamboozled by a man, I’d just prefer it to be a handsome, virile hunk, like Harad.”
“You have a point,” Amelia said, lifting her suitcase. “Let’s continue with the bamboozling and see where it gets us.”
“Hey, if you decide on Harad, maybe you could point that doctor in my direction. He wasn’t hard to look at, either.”
“Somehow, Mauve, I don’t think you need any help in the men department.” Amelia opened the door to find Harad standing only three feet away.
“Ladies,” he said, walking into the room to lift the suitcase. He gave the slashed leather a long look.
“Amelia thinks it was the man who stuck her in the neck,” Mauve supplied. “Probably a thief.”