“You were behind the assault on Qasr el Bahia?” Sibylla stammered. “You hired killers to murder my daughter? No, that can’t be true! You wouldn’t!”
He didn’t flinch. “It’s your own fault. If you had just left my gold under the sundial, I would have left town without learning about your sordid escapades. Well, I shouldn’t keep you any longer, seeing as you don’t have much time to get my money. And don’t mourn that child too much. She was only a bastard.” He took a mocking bow and turned to leave.
“Don’t move!” Sibylla’s voice whipped through the room. Benjamin turned around in surprise and looked down the barrel of the revolver. The hammer clicked as Sibylla pulled it back. However, before she could fire, he hurled himself toward her. She stumbled and fell hard, the revolver slipping from her hand. There was a deafening bang as it fell to the ground and the shot went off, wood splintering as the bullet hit the desk. Then there was another bang as Emily flung the door open. Sibylla wanted to reach down to pick up the revolver, but the pain in her back made it almost impossible for her to move. Benjamin grabbed the weapon and pointed the smoking barrel at Emily.
“Run!” Sibylla panted, although the pain almost took her breath away. “Get help! Quickly!”
But Emily was paralyzed by fear. She saw only her mother, doubled over in pain as though she had been hit by a bullet. “Mummy!” she screamed before Benjamin grabbed her by the hair and pulled her so forcefully that she fell to her knees.
“Mummy?” He leaned over her and stared at her face. “You’re not dead? So who the devil did those good-for-nothings shoot?”
“Hel—” Emily began to howl before he pistol-whipped her in the neck and she collapsed with a groan.
“Please, Benjamin!” Sibylla pleaded. “I’ll do anything. Anything you want, just don’t hurt her!”
Without releasing Emily, he turned around and grinned at her. “All the Muslims are at the mosque praying. No one is going to come to your aid, Sibylla.”
There was a moment of silence. Sibylla struggled for words. Then she heard footsteps running over the stone floor beneath them. A man’s voice called, “Sibylla, Emily! What’s going on?”
Benjamin’s grin dissolved. He knew it was too late to flee. He looked at Emily, lying motionless on the floor, and bit his lips. Then he took a deep breath, cocked the gun again, and pressed the barrel against Emily’s head.
“No!” André burst in through the open door, his scream reverberating through the entire warehouse.
Now Benjamin pointed the weapon at the Frenchman.
“André, look out!” Sibylla shouted.
Benjamin pulled the trigger.
Sibylla covered her eyes, but no shot rang out. The old gun had jammed. Cursing, he threw it down. As it hit the ground, it slid along the floor and out of his reach. Sibylla lowered her hands just in time to see André charging Benjamin, lifting him up by the hood of his djellaba, and throwing him out the office door. Sabri, who had been right on André’s heels, managed to jump out of the way as Benjamin smashed against the railing. The wooden banister broke apart with a great crash, and he plunged into the darkness with a bloodcurdling shriek before landing with a thud on the stone floor of the warehouse below. John and Thomas, who were still on the stairs, gawked in disbelief at the motionless body with the black cloak still billowing over it like a sail.
“You go to Mother and Emily!” Thomas panted. “I’ll see if he’s still alive.”
John ran up but stopped on the threshold. His sister lay on the floor just as still as the stranger in the warehouse. His mother was holding her head and gently stroking her pale face and closed eyes, André was squeezing her limp hands, and Sabri had placed two fingers on her neck.
“Is she . . . ?” John swallowed.
Sabri wiped his brow. “She’s alive,” he said in a choked voice.
“Dieu merci!” André’s voice broke.
“Thanks be to you.” Sibylla laid one hand on his tearstained cheek. “If it hadn’t been for you, Benjamin would have killed us both.”
“Benjamin?” André stared at her. “Do you mean that man was—”
“—our father?” John finished flatly.
Emily groaned softly. She moved her head and cried out in pain. Then she opened her eyes and tried to understand why four people were surrounding her with worried expressions. “What’s going on?” Then she remembered. “Mummy! He didn’t shoot you!”
There were steps approaching the office. Emily flinched. “We have to get away! He has a gun!” She tried in vain to sit up.
“It’s all right!” André helped her up. “I have it.” He had tucked it away even before seeing to Emily—a precaution in case the intruder was not alone.
“Emily! Dear God!” Thomas stood in the doorway, looking as shocked as John had a moment earlier.
“She’s fine. She was hit in the neck with the revolver, but all she will suffer is a bruise,” Sabri quickly assured him.
“The intruder who did that to her was our father,” John informed his brother with a husky voice.
Thomas stared first at him, then at his mother. Sibylla just nodded.
“Is he still alive?” André inquired with concern.
Slowly, as though in a trance, Thomas shook his head. “The fall broke his neck.”
Thomas examined his mother’s back to make sure there was no serious injury from her fall. While he was gently palpating her, Sibylla informed the others that Benjamin had been behind not only today’s attack but also the break-in at the riad and the raid on Qasr el Bahia—and that the shots that had cost Tamra and Aynur their lives had been meant for Emily.
“Maudit soit le diable!” André cursed. “That devil! I don’t regret that he died by my hand. Even if he was your father,” he added, looking at John and Thomas.
They were all silent for a few seconds. “The criminal who tried to murder our sister is no longer my father,” John calmly stated. Thomas nodded emphatically, but there was profound sorrow in his eyes.
Sibylla’s heart broke to see her sons so confused and humiliated. She wanted to embrace them, dry their tears the way she had when they were little, but John turned his face without a word and Thomas gently pushed her away.
“Perhaps one day it will be possible for us to remember the father of our childhood instead of the monster he became.”
It was at that moment that she decided to reveal Benjamin’s last secret to her family, to have everything aired out at last. But she would do so at home—Victoria also deserved to know the whole truth.
She felt for André’s arm. “Let’s go home. I don’t wish to stay here any longer.”
When she saw the splintered banister, Emily pressed her face into Sabri’s shoulder. She stifled a gasp at the sight of Benjamin’s motionless body under the blanket that Thomas had found.
John cleared his throat. “We have to lock the warehouse. Mother, please give me the key. I’m going to go inform the qaid.”