There was an ominous roll of thunder. Frank hooked a thumb in his belt loop and asked,
"How exactly do you plan to find it?"
In the room darkened by the approaching storm, Lady Davenport's eyes glimmered as she said pointedly, "You are a man of vision Frank, you tell me." It was a rhetorical question but from across the room Frank leveled a stubborn gaze at her. She continued, "You traveled all the way to Arabia to prove your mustang to the world, which you did. It is the horse of the Red Indian tribe whose blood runs in your veins, and whose steeds, I hear, were taken away from them by your government. You spent the last two years living on a reservation. Pride, Frank, that has been your motive, pride in your horse, your people, and yourself. Halfway across a continent and across an entire ocean your pride and your vision has carried you again, this time to England. It is pride in your future. But your vision Frank, can only become a reality with that book."
Frank felt the power of her persuasive argument, but was not swayed by it. She did not know his vision, much less care about it's fulfillment. She only knew how to exploit. Frank shrugged slightly and said in a deliberate voice,
"Sorry, I don't have it."
Lightning flashed beyond the window. Lady Davenport studied him for a moment. Frank did not flinch as he tried to keep his thoughts off Jazira. If Lady Davenport was as consumed with the Sheik's breeding book as it sounded, Frank knew she was a potentially dangerous woman. The silence lasted a minute too long and Frank said,
"If you'll excuse me m'am, I'd like to get into some dry clothes."
He was about to step out of the room when Lady Davenport called to him, "Frank!" He stopped and looked back at her, waiting. She had stood up, her hands braced on the table as she leaned forward asking in a sinister tone,
"What happened in the marketplace on the Hammad?"
Frank felt his hair bristle and his body go rigid, knowing the way he answered the question could alter events dramatically. Looking sharply at Lady Davenport, Frank's eyes gleamed brilliant blue as he waited. Lady Davenport wore an indulgent smile as she explained, "The marketplace on the Hammad, where Katib, the Sheik's nephew held Jazira captive."
At the use of her name, Frank felt as if an icy finger touched his spine, yet the implicating voice continued, "We were all present when the Sheik announced that his nephew had stolen the breeding book. What we didn't find out was, what happened to it after that, when you returned with the girl."
Frank tried to hide his discomfort as he wondered if Lady Davenport had put the same question to Jazira and what answer she had given. If his reply contradicted hers, or if he unintentionally incriminated her, she could be in jeopardy.
Lady Davenport tried to control her excitement, feeling as if she were about to get an answer to the puzzle that had obsessed her since Jazira had arrived at the Aden wharf. Lady Davenport repeated, "What happened at the marketplace, Frank?"
Frank stepped back into the room, tilted his head to one side as if he had to force himself to remember the event at all. He looked back at the expectant Lady Davenport and fired the loaded question, "Why, did Katib tell you he didn't have it?"
It hit the mark. There was electricity in the room as if lightning had flashed through the window, as Frank recalled the pits of the Umm al-Samim, the trap that had been set for Hidalgo and Al-Hattal. He wondered if Lady Davenport would admit a hand in that scheme by revealing there had been a conversation between herself and the raider.
Lady Davenport blinked, the smile no longer on her face. She breathed rapidly and replied quickly, "Prince Bin al-Reeh reported the attack by Katib's raiders at camp. Katib would not have done something so foolish if he still had the manuscripts in his possession."
Frank's eyes narrowed. She had barely escaped the question and he used it to his advantage saying solemnly, "Still, you are not certain." It did not escape his notice that Lady Davenport wore a guarded expression on her face. Frank threw the dog a bone before walking out by saying,
"If Katib did not have the book, then that leaves one person, Aziz. Now, I really would like to get out of these clothes."
But he saw Lady Davenport's eyes light up. Apparently she had not thought of the possibility that Aziz held the manuscripts last. Looking out of a window, Frank walked to his room, hoping the storm would soon pass. He needed to speak to Lord Wellingham today.
