The first thought to cross his mind was that the woman had decided to finish the job she had started at the museum. He tried to dismiss the idea as he had no evidence to support his suspicions, but his instincts told him that this woman was not to be trusted. He had felt it first when she had abandoned him during the effort to rescue trapped soldiers during the RPG attack at the airport. She might have called herself a doctor, but she had not behaved as one. When he had determined that Aziz’s killer was female, he had put her at the top of his list of suspects, even though there was nothing to substantiate that accusation.
Yet, she had saved him from heat exhaustion, hadn’t she?
Your life is in my hands…
She finished changing the IV solution, then turned back to him. “I don’t know what happened to you, but you seem to be a living mass of bruises. It’s difficult to tell where one ends and the next begins. Were you dragged by a horse?”
“It kind of feels that way.” He was ambivalent about sharing information with her. If she was the assassin he had chased, then it was conceivable that she was watching for some sign that he had recognized her. In her role as medical care provider, nobody would think twice if Kismet suffered an unexpected fatal relapse. Even if she was innocent, her unpleasant personality made him reluctant to engage in conversation. “Are my friends okay?”
“If you mean Monsieur Chiron, then the answer is that he will be all right as soon as I allow him to see you. He’s been very worried.”
“I’d like to see him now.”
She frowned. “Well, if it were up to me, I’d make you wait until morning. I don’t think you appreciate that you almost died, Mr. Kismet.”
Several times, actually. He held back the comment, however. “Please, it’s important.”
She crossed her arms. “Very well. I suppose there’s really nothing more for me to do. I’ll come back in about fifteen minutes to remove your line. After that, you’ll be on your own. I can give you some analgesics for your pain… I imagine you’ve got quite a headache. Other than that, you just need to stay hydrated and take it easy.”
“Whatever you say, doc.”
She sighed and turned toward the door. “I hope you brought along some extra clothing. I’m afraid there wasn’t much left of what you were wearing.”
Though it was against his better judgment, Kismet made a final bid for the last word. “Well, I guess this makes us even.”
She paused, then looked back. A single arched eyebrow was just visible in the narrow beam of outside light. “I beg your pardon?”
“I saved your life. Now you’ve saved mine.”
“You give yourself too much credit. I seem to remember that you very nearly killed me.”
Kismet’s lips twitched into a smile but there was no humor in his expression. “Believe me, I’ve thought about it.”
She held his stare for a long silent moment, her eyes unreadable, then pushed through the door.
Pierre Chiron burst through almost immediately, bathing the room in light from hallway. Kismet raised a hand to shade his eyes, then struggled to a seated position as his old friend rushed to his side. Marie was right behind him.
“Nick, we’ve been so worried. They say you fainted in a helicopter.”
Kismet was mildly irritated by the suggestion that he had “fainted”, but clarification to soothe his ego seemed superfluous. “Who was that woman?”
“Do you mean Dr. Gault?”
“I do. Why was she treating me? I would have expected to end up in an army field hospital.”
Chiron appeared confused by the question. “Dr. Gault is with the International Red Cross. She’s certainly capable, if that’s your concern.”
Marie stepped forward, proffering a blanket to Kismet for the sake of modesty. “I was here when you arrived, Nick. The soldiers seemed to think you were to blame for whatever it was that happened out there. I had them bring you to Dr. Gault in order for you get some treatment. From what she’s told us, it’s a good thing I did.”
“Nick,” Chiron intoned. “What happened? Did you know that Mr. Aziz was murdered?”
“Someone didn’t want us talking to him. I walked in on it and tried to chase after the…the guy that did it.” He decided to withhold his knowledge of the assassin’s gender. That tiny scrap of information was his hole card and he wasn’t ready to play it yet. Not until he knew more about Dr. Gault, at any rate. Kismet pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to force the insistent pain to abate, if only long enough to continue speaking. “From there, everything went to hell. I’m sure it’s already made the news by now.”
Marie flashed a wry smile. “They say you started a riot.”
“I wouldn’t say I started it, exactly. I just sort of happened upon it.”
Chiron laid a fatherly hand on his forearm. “Nick, what really happened? Who did this?”
“I–I’m not quite sure. I have some ideas.” His gaze flashed between Chiron and Marie. “I don’t want to speculate right now.”
The old man seemed to comprehend his subtle body English. “Of course. It would serve no purpose. Besides, I’m sure your doctor wants you to rest. And perhaps eat something. Marie, be a dear and see if you can’t find something for our friend to eat. Something palatable, if at all possible. I will stay with Nick and regale him with my own adventures from this afternoon.”
Kismet could tell by her eyes that Marie was disappointed at being dismissed — and that she knew why — but managed a smile and nodded to Kismet. There was more emotion in her expression than he had previously seen, but to his chagrin, he couldn’t will himself to entertain amorous thoughts as he watched her go.
Chiron waited until the door clicked shut behind her. “Well?”
Kismet gingerly extricated himself from the bath, careful not to dislodge the intravenous line. Despite his headache, he felt a primal need to start moving again. The basin of lukewarm water, which had doubtless been instrumental in lowering his fever and probably saving his life, now seemed merely an annoyance. He wrapped the damp blanket around his torso and faced the other man. “What time is it?”
“After nineteen hundred—7:00 p.m. that is.”
He had slept almost nine hours, yet he did not feel at all rejuvenated. “A whole day lost.”
“Perhaps. But you’ve obviously been through a great deal. Rest is the best thing for you, I imagine.”
“I need to get my bag…get some fresh clothes.” He spied his ragged boots on the floor nearby. He had not thought to bring alternate footwear.
“Yes. Nick, tell me what happened. Do you know who killed Mr. Aziz? Or who it was that wanted him silenced?”
“The answer to both questions is ‘maybe’. I’m going to do some digging with respects to the identity of the killer. As to who’s behind it…” He leaned against a table edge. “As I see it, there are two possibilities. The obvious answer is that Aziz was a black marketeer, dealing in antiquities. Either he was offed by a rival, or somebody in his own organization suspected he was cooperating with us and wanted to keep him from spilling his guts.”
Chiron appeared stunned. “I had not considered that approaching him would present any sort of risk.”
“Relax. If Aziz is everything I think he was, the world is probably a better place without him. However, I said there are two possibilities, and right now I’m leaning toward the alternative.”