Redemption. - Redemption. Part 57
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Redemption. Part 57

Any malice, any anger Jeremy had ever known for the poor, limp, blubbering creature had flown.

"You're going to be all right, Chris," Jeremy said to his uncomprehending brother. "Yurlob, find some water and clean him up and get him into his uniform."

"There are some matters to be settled, Viscount, m'lord," Farouk el Farouk said. "May I introduce you to Chief Inspector Rawash who commands the eastern side of Cairo."

"I am honored," Rawash said.

"Sure, so am I." Jesus, a slithering pair of vipers out of some terrible novel, they were. What a dirty lousy game. Connections...we've a live one...praise Allah, his brother is Viscount Hubble, the Lieutenant of Villa Valhalla!

"We have a very serious situation. A woman is murdered in your brother's room and your brother at this moment does not do great honor to the British Army. If we take him in to the magistrate and prefer charges...well, I have no further control over matters," Rawash recited.

"When the Inspector found your brother's papers, he came to me on the small chance I may know of this gentleman, in that I deal with dignitaries."

"And there's the matter of the Villa Valhalla," Rawash continued. "It is illegal that you are there and having illegal parties smoking hashish, a very serious crime in Cairo."

"You have a lot of serious criminals in Cairo. And, you don't have to smoke it. All you have to do is walk down the street and breathe," Jeremy said.

Farouk el Farouk gave a small smile at the humor. "I have convinced Chief Inspector Rawash that there is a better way than to imprison your brother and bring total disgrace to your family."

"I'm sure you have."

"My dear Viscount. We did not invite you to Cairo. But now that you have invited yourself, please do not try to change twenty-five centuries of custom."

"This city is going to be torn apart by the troops. You must know that," Jeremy said.

"Cairo has known five hundred riots and still stands. How will your father's earldom stand after this?"

"How much do you want?"

"We are prepared to keep this totally quiet, but a lot of people must be favored to ensure that it absolutely did not happen."

"How much?"

"You make it sound so rude!"

"How much?"

The Egyptians went to the corner of the room and put their heads together. Yurlob was busy assembling Chris to a reasonable state. Jeremy wanted to get him to the infirmary as quickly as possible.

"We must wait here until the Cook's Travel office opens at half past seven," Farouk el Farouk said. "I and you will go down there and clear a cheque for ten thousand."

"Ten thousand!"

"No bargaining, no bargaining. Believe me, by the time everyone is taken care of there won't be five quid in it for me."

"I can't make a cheque of that size."

"But of course you can. Everything of yours clears. If there is a problem, I have reserved a telephone line to London. You can explain it to the party at Weed Ship & Iron."

"You are garbage. All you live for is the slimy fucking deal. What a way to live!"

"And your father has not become the Earl over deals and dead bodies, m'lord? I am sorry you do not understand certain traditions. Opportunities such as we have at this moment only happen once in a lifetime. Your troops rape our city. We rape you."

"You murdered this woman and planted her here."

"She is of no consequence. No one forced your brother to this hotel. Are you prepared, yes or no, to go with me to Cook's? Do you wish him back, yes or no?"

"All right. You win," Jeremy said.

Large smiles from beaming faces. "Good, good." Farouk el Farouk glowed. "We have time till daybreak. Do you play backgammon, Lord Viscount?"

BONG rang the railroad tower clock.

"No, I don't play."

"Ah, too bad."

"I'll play with you," Rawash said.

BONG!.

"First we had better send out for some food."

Yurlob placed himself before his Major as Jeremy looked down at the floor, appearing disconsolate, but staying within an arm's length of Farouk el Farouk.

BONG!.

BONG!.

"I set up the board at the table."

BONG!.

Jeremy counted, a thousand one, a thousand two, a thousand three, oh Christ, a thousand...

"YOWWWW!"

"AHURRRGGG!"

The door blew off its hinges as Mordechai Pearlman and Johnny Tarbox crashed into the room brandishing a pair of pistols taken from the guards.

Rory flew through the window, bowling over two of the policemen. As they groped to their knees, he banged their heads together. Yurlob shoved Major Hubble under the bed, then dived himself as the other two police fired. Jeremy brought an uppercut into Farouk el Farouk's jaw, dropping him like a mummy.

There was a short but violent smashing of furniture amid screams and bursts of bright red blood. Inspector Rawash slid along the wall and was about to make it through the door when Rory caught him and got him in an armlock.

"Tell them to drop their pistols!" Rory commanded.

The inspector, screaming in pain, babbled orders to surrender, NOW!

AHUGAH! AHUGAH! The lorry horn sounded from the street.

"Modi! Johnny! Bring these two cops from the hall in here, quick."

AHUGAH! AHUGAH!.

The six police were cuffed with their own handcuffs and stuffed into the closet. Rory had proudly remembered to bring the belt cords from their robes at Villa Valhalla. He shut the door.

"Come on, Rory, let's get the hell out of here,"

"Give me just a minute." Rory was dancing on his toes throwing out his jab. He had not gotten his fill, not just yet.

AHUGAH! AHUGAH!.

Rory walked to Inspector Rawash, who was too terrified to plead out loud. "I got into a fight with this big Aussie at Fort Albany, see..."

"Come on, Rory, we're clear," Johnny cried.

"Shut up!" Rory answered, near frothing. "Do you know what that fucking Aussie did to me?" Rory seized Rawash's lapels. "This is what he did to me," and promptly smashed his forehead between the Inspector's eyes. The bespattered man fell, crushed. Rory, nearly knocking himself out with his blow, wiped Rawash's blood from his own forehead, then focused on Farouk el Farouk. "So you know what I did to that son of a bitch?" Rory wrapped his arms about the Egyptian, lifted him off the ground, and squeezed him till the air was nearly gone from him, then bit his ear lobe so that it dangled by a thread. "That's what I did."

The two were quickly gagged and tied.

AHUGAH! AHUGAH! the horn cried desperately.

"Come on, Rory!"

Rory dragged Christopher Hubble from under the bed, tossed him over a shoulder, tucked a pair of pistols into his belt, and led them out.

An angry and threatening crowd had gathered at the bottom of the stairs.

AHUGAH! AHUGAH!.

Rory took one of the pistols out, cocked it, and fired at the chandelier. The protesters scattered. He came down the stairs firing at the mirrors, the windows, the check-in desks. Emptying one pistol, he began firing the other.

"Move, you assholes! I'm coming through!"

73.

Jeremy shaved very carefully around assorted nicks, cuts, scrapes, and bruises on his face, recipient of stray blows in the Hotel Aida encounter. A knock.

"Come in, please."

Christopher, still in ragged condition, slumped in the easy chair and draped a leg over its arm.

"How's it?"

"I got a laboratory report. There were traces of, what the devil was it, chloral hydrate. I had ordered a number of drinks trying to find the wherewithal to write a glorious note of farewell and take that other stuff, the cyanide. You might say they saved my life by drugging me. I was either chloroformed first and they forced the drink down or vice versa. I was too drunk to know. Bad show," he whispered.

Jeremy dunked his face, patted on some bay rum carefully, grimaced at the sting and sat on the edge of his bed close to his brother.

"How's your mind holding up?"

"Not very well," Christopher said. "I know I own an apology and expression of gratitude to the gaffers, but I'm not really certain if I ever learned how to apologize, at least with any sincerity. Not a notable Hubble trait. I've humiliated myself like a common beggar and I'm having difficulty managing that as well. Jeremy, I don't know if I can change. I don't know how to change or even if I want to change."

"No one really expects you to change."

"I do feel duty-bound to say I'm grateful."

"You don't have to tell them anything. You were in deep trouble and they didn't hesitate for a minute."

"They came because of you, Jeremy."

"We're all just a bunch of chaps from all over the place who have been thrown together to get through a war. We have to take care of each other."

"They hate me."

"They think you're a horse's ass. But these are good men. They understand wars can't be won without officers like you. They are also deeply pained and compassionate over what happened to you back home."

"I find that so difficult to comprehend."

"You should. You've never been there for anyone."

"That's not true, Jeremy. I've been there for Father, for General Brodhead."

"To cover yourself with glory. Or, you were there to protect your privilege. You were never there for love of anyone."

Christopher was stunned and tried to think back. It was cloudy in the past. When? Even once? Was his every profound act and gesture to someone encased in a hidden agenda to promote his own image and cause? Did he ever act selflessly without hope of recognition and reward? What maid in the manor house would speak up for him now? What butler? Did he not take the mule battalion in order to become a full colonel with his own brigade? Was he ever more than superficially considerate of anyone beneath his station?

Christopher had passed over the threshold. He'd bury his lie no longer. He was face-to-face with Christopher. He nearly gagged sorting out his words; they had to be untwisted carefully.

"I feel something now very deeply," he muttered. He now knew internal pain and the man had become bewildered by it. The discovery of buried passion suddenly tore him off the pedestal he had placed himself on and brought him down to common earth with common pain. Twenty-five years of building an armor of reserve attitude, of detaching himself from human misery was blown away, snatched from him and reduced him to dust in a sudden moment. Welcome to the human race, Major Hubble.

Christopher found his old steel. He looked directly at his brother. "When we took Molly from you, I was as evil as a brother could be. You writhed in agony and I kicked you and enjoyed it. I was above you, you see. When you became a drunk and I rose over you in rank, I delighted in humiliating you. When you were terrified to sign the resignations at Camp Bushy I adored tormenting you as a coward."

He stood and clasped his hands behind him. He was pleased that his words were direct and did not falter, for he had never ventured into such territory of the heart. "I never really understood the meaning of pain until I opened Hester's letter. Physical pain, yes. But one keeps a stiff upper lip when he is thrown from a horse and merely suffers a broken arm. This was pain of a horrible dimension. Oh, I admit I did not love Hester with any sort of bottomless fervor. Hester had to be collected by me along the way to fit into a niche. When I was unable to make her pregnant, I was concerned only that my manliness might be in question. I had no understanding why she seemed to be so distressed."

Christopher felt his brother's hand on his shoulder for the first time since they were kids. No touch of another person in his life had been so meaningful. He felt it all over, for the first time.

"I was foolish to block inside pain from my life, but I didn't consciously know I was doing it. Detachment from others seemed the normal way of being. To have learned it all in this single moment was too much for me to bear. I had betrayed Hester with my indifference. I never felt jealous of her, not once. She was not much to be jealous of, one would think. She existed only to serve my requirements, nothing more. I never understood that she was a tight rosebud who craved to bloom. She is happy now...truly in love...a baby in her belly and risking all. Only now do I realize what I did to you. God, you must despise me."

"I've never felt any sense of revenge. I wish I could take some of your pain from you now. I can't. But I am your brother and I love you."

It was all too much for Christopher, to keep together, not to break down. Blast, he had his pride! "What can I do to make it right for those lads?" he asked softly.