Levi had a point. I do wonder... perhaps I could persuade du Mond to go to Crowley? I would then be rid of him and inflict a treacherous cur on Crowley as well! Now that plan had a real savor to it!
And with that pleasant thought in mind, he began to relax, and his physical exhaustion caught up with him completely. He had just enough time to remind the Salamander to guard him while he slept, before sleep itself overcame him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When Rose reached the haven of her room, she finally collapsed on the sofa, and allowed herself the luxury of feeling again—and of thinking, instead of merely accepting what she saw.
The result was an emotional collapse as well as a physical one. Shaking in every limb, she buried her face in her hands and let the reaction and tension play themselves out. She did not, as she had half expected she would, weep hysterically—though she did shiver until her teeth rattled.
It was a horrible moment, and it felt as if it would last forever. She had to keep reminding herself that Jason Cameron was more to be pitied than feared, and that he probably had no surer friends in the world than herself and Master Pao. I can cope with this. I can deal with becoming his Apprentice. I can cope with his rudeness and his arrogance, and even handle his anger, if I must. He needed her, however ungraciously he might act. She could not desert a fellow man who was in the state that he found himself.
As her shivering subsided, she forced herself to recall, as clearly as possible, every aspect of his face and figure, for there was still fear within her now that she was no longer caught up in the urgency and unreality of the emergency in his rooms. She confronted the monster directly, if only in her mind, contemplating it until it was no stranger than anything else she had witnessed in this strangest of homes. I must make him commonplace to myself, so that I can concentrate on the work and not on him.
The more she recalled, the less there was that seemed outre. Certainly she was able to think about working beside him without a shudder of fear. Paul du Mond is more to be feared than he, I suspect. If the Salamanders do not like him, and if Sunset fears him, there is surely a reason.
When it came right down to it, Cameron looked no worse than any of the animal-headed gods of ancient Egypt, and she had always thought them to be oddly attractive!
Yes. I will think of him as a kind of lesser Anubis.
Somehow that made everything fall into place; she had a "name" for what he was, and a category, and the world fell back into some semblance of order again. Once that happened, her feeling of disorientation vanished, and so did the last of her unease. That was hardly logical—But then, as I am well aware, the emotions are not very responsive to logic.
She took three deep breaths, and ordered the Salamander who tended her rooms to fix her a bath. She certainly needed one! I was sodden with perspiration before the whole incident was over. My clothing will have to be cleaned before it is fit to wear again.
She vaguely heard du Mond returning, heard a faint echo of him talking with Jason through the speaking-tube as she undressed. She was glad she had taken the precaution of locking her door. For some reason he seemed more than usually repellent to her. Could it be because Jason no longer trusts him? I wonder why he was so insistent on helping Jason with his Magickal Working? To do the man justice, he might simply have had the welfare of his Master in mind....
But somehow, she thought, as she stepped into the steaming bathtub, I don't think so. But what could his motive be?
"Thank you for fixing my bath. Now take the clothing I left on the floor and clean it all thoroughly, please," she ordered aloud. She never forgot "please" and "thank you" with the Salamanders, and she had the oddest feeling that they appreciated the small courtesy.
But her mind kept turning back to Paul du Mond, in spite of her determination to enjoy her bath in peace. And a thought occurred to her that made her blood run cold in spite of the hot water she soaked in. He is Jason's secretary, and he has had more than enough time to learn to forge Jason's signature. His reason could be strictly material! He could have been hoping for such an outcome as this one, hoping to catch Jason at a moment of extreme weakness and—
And what? Murder his employer, perhaps? Her hands closed on the side of the bathtub, and it was all she could do to keep from leaping to her feet to run downstairs to warn Jason.
It was certainly a possibility. Cameron had been a recluse for long enough that no one remarked on the fact anymore. He communicated with his underlings by means of the telegraph set in his office, or by letters. Anyone could use a telegraph, and as for letters, du Mond already wrote the majority of them. Every secretary she had ever met was an adroit forger of his or her employer's name, and she doubted that du Mond was an exception to that rule.
He need only dispose of Jason, keep up the pretense that Jason is still alive, and enjoy all the fruits of Jason's wealth for as long as he cares to. She began shivering all over again, and hoped that Jason had not exposed his weakened state to du Mond. Would he snatch the opportunity, or would he wait for a surer time? I fear he is the type to grab for any chance....
It would be all too easy for the secretary to cover his employer's absence. Her imagination carried out the scheme further, until Paul du Mond appeared to her in her mind's eye as a very Moriarty of crime. If anyone suspected, he could purchase a ticket to Tahiti, China, or Australia, hire someone to impersonate Cameron for the trip, and then "Cameron" would either vanish overseas or simply "Send back orders" now and again. The only person who would know that Cameron was no longer among the living would be me—I am the only person he could not fool, for I know Cameron's voice.
That made her grow even colder. Of course, du Mond could always appear with orders for her dismissal, but would he? Why should he let her go? There was no one to miss her if she disappeared. If du Mond balked at killing a woman, he could simply overpower her and put her into the hands of a white slaver...
Or he could imprison me here, at his pleasure. Her throat closed, as fear choked off her breath for a moment; her chest tightened, and she feared that her heart would pound itself into pieces. She clutched the sides of the bathtub as to a lifeline, and willed herself to fight the fear. Logic! Think logically! Du Mond does not know that Jason is indisposed. Nothing has happened yet, and if I confide my thoughts to Jason, he can be certain to guard himself—
Guard himself! Of course! Suddenly her heart quieted, and her breathing eased. Jason had his Salamanders to protect him; if only half of what she had read thus far was true, in defense of their Master they could incinerate a man in the space of a heartbeat! Du Mond was only an Apprentice, and not a very good one, if Jason was to be believed. It was not likely that he would be able to defend himself against the attack of a Salamander.