Every person, and most animals, ever to walk the face of the Earth has their own personal retreat. A place where they are able to escape and in the process receive some nullifying effect from the hardship of life. For the lucky ones this was family, for others work, still more found it in the arts or society. Tragically others found it in darker vices, such as excessive drink or drugs. For the 8th Earl of Albemarle, Arnold Keppel, this had been the Officer’s Club.
A member of the Prince of Wales’ Own Civil Service Rifles it did not matter whether he was in London or, as the case may be, Cairo. He had, in times of hardship, always found some portion of reprieve in the meticulously maintained, often raucous, but always ever proper rooms of the local Officer’s Club.
The Club had at one point occupied a series of tents in the military barracks beyond the city. Thankfully it had been moved in recent years to the second floor of the Grand Continental, one of the finest hotels in all the world. Each of her three wings intricately ordained and decorated with the astonishing care. The gardens flowed from the front of the building into the lobby where colossal palms towered against a French Colonial backdrop. Passing beneath them always reminded the Earl of Napoleon’s dangerous impact, though it was had to feel anything but joy in this space.
Unaware the hotel would go on to hold in residence Lawrence of Arabia and countless names rebound the world over the Earl had formed his impression not by reputation but by the subline comforts it provided. After a year in Cairo he had arrived at the conclusion that the hotel, still in its infancy, was every bit worthy of nobility. If only due to the fact that it possessed a veritable army of its own. At every glance footman scurried to and fro, valets ferried bags about, doormen greeted travelers, barmen poured drinks, and maids straightened the sprawling lounge of the hotel lobby. He had seen the palaces of monarchs which possessed less refinement.
On this day though he Earl saw none of this. He stumbled past the glittering fountains, over the brightly painted tile mosaic floors till he arrived at the grand stairwell at the back of the lobby.
The concierge a brilliant man, as in tune with a person’s character and state as anyone could be noticed something off and called out to the Earl. The Earl waived him off as cordially as he could, hardly aware he had passed the concierge’s office as he continued up the stairs to the officer’s private baths.
Inside the Earl wasted no time calling for a wash basin and stripping off his hat and coat. A attendant produced a finely crafted bowl and placed it on the table in front of him. Without a word the Earl plunged his hands into the wash basin cupping the cool clear water in them before running them through his hair.
“Good god man are you alright?” Called a familiar voice. To his left in a state of offended gentlemanly concern stood Evelyn Baring, 1st Earl of Cromer. A stout man with a wooly mustache who preferred the attire of their fathers Baring was already balding and grey. As such he possessed the look of a man who had unexpectedly arrived at old age decades early and left with no choice had settled into his appearance for the sake of gravitas.
“You have my apologies.” Arnold answered, his eyes never breaking the dead state with his reflection in the wash basin.
Baring looked his friend over, “They are accepted which is well and good but you are in a poor state. What savage business has brought you so low?”
“There was a murder…” Arnold began.
“There is always a murder in these uncivilized…” Baring interjected virulently.
Never one to be undercut Arnold raised his hand in quick rebuke to silence his fellow countryman. “The victim was one of the maids who serve the Khedive Tewfiq. I have spent the day dispatching notices to London, attempting to meet with various parties at the palace and the like.” He continued.
“If you wanted something done why didn’t you just come to me old boy I am the Controller-General in Egypt. The first fiscal governor of the monarchy itself.” Baring puffed his chest up, with his round gut it gave him the appearance of an over inflated balloon or a barrel of the verge of bursting.
Arnold rolled his eyes skeptically. Appointed over a decade prior to remedy the fiscal crisis of brought on by the Khedive of Egypt the Controller- General had accomplished a total of three things. The first was to drive an ever increasing wedge between the ruling elites of Egypt, the British, and the lower classes. The other was to flood the royal coffers while simultaneously squirreling away as much power for himself as possible. Indeed, as he controlled the kingdoms considerable wealth he had by no accident made himself considerably wealthy and powerful in the process.
“Thank you for your offer and we will need to speak on the matter at length but I felt it best to attempt to at least gain the woman’s name or get some information given the circumstances.” Arnold answer.
“And what circumstances would those be precisely?” Baring said mercurially.
“It was a very unpleasant matter. We will get to it in due course but now is hardly the time.” Arnold pushed the man off and began to prepare for a bath.
“Too true!” Baring, suddenly jubilant slapped Arnold on the back then turned on his heel and marched off.
Arnold watched him go for a second then again washed his face. He couldn’t clean the horrid imagines from his memory or the nagging dread that had taken up root in his mind. Somewhere in the periphery he heard attendants preparing his bath. Unconcerned he disrobed and sunk into the bath mutely. It was only when the attendants prepared to leave the Earl lifted chin from chest to utter a sole word. “Whiskey.”
Lavation: the act or an instance of washing or cleansing
Author’s Note: Day 13 of 365 Done. I really wanted to revisit this world of the Earl and the Veiled Protectorate of Egypt. It is a very interesting time in history with so many different elements at play. I am also interested to see where the mystery takes him, all be it in brief excerpts at a time.
You can read the introduction of the 8th Earl of Albemarle, Arnold Keppel on the Flask and Pen HERE.
The Flask/Pen 