In the previous episode, Kristi Taylor realized that she is the only one who knows that someone in the movie is about to die. While trying to warn them, she sees something suspicious. Readers voted that the young man she was talking to was holding a book on poisons.
Out of the corner of her eye, she had seen the title of the book he was carrying.
Death in a Phial: A Guide to Poisons of All Kinds. She shivered. Maybe the curse was getting a little human assistance.
“I-” The sound of running footsteps interrupted her. A man came tearing into the camp, sweat running down his dark face.
“Mr. Black,” he cried, and broke into a torrent of gasping Arabic.
Of course. Edmund Black was one of the main characters. The foreman, or something like that.
“What’s going on?” she asked when the man stopped for breath.
“Someone’s taken ill.” Edmund disappeared into the tent and emerged with a small black bag…
Work around the excavation site had been abandoned and the group of barefooted men in dirty robes gathered at the foot of the cliff. Kristi followed Edmund past them, an uneasy feeling churning in her stomach.
A man lay in the shade, foam dripping from his mouth, his back arched and his limbs twisted painfully. Someone had thought to loosen his collar, but even so his face was a nasty shade of purple. Edmund knelt and pushed the man’s sleeve up, feeling for a pulse. He shook his head. Nothing.
“Strychnine,” Kristi breathed.
Edmund’s head jerked up. His eyes met hers with a frown.
The man from the cave came striding into the circle, his bare head and arms covered in dust.
“He’s dead, I’m afraid.”
A wave of muttering ran around the group and some of the men shifted uneasily.
“Well, fix the body up so we can send him back to wherever he came from. I’ve told those damned tourists to stay away before. Maybe they’ll listen this time.”
“Geoffrey, really.” Edmund ran his hand through his hair. “I think you should send the men home for the day.
“Don’t be absurd. I’m not wasting a whole day over some damned fool tourist.”
Edmund lowered his voice. “I’m afraid they’ll blame the curse for this.”
“They already do.” A young woman appeared behind Geoffrey, her faced flushed with the heat, tucking wisps of her hair back under her helmet.
“If we tell them to go home now, they’ll think we believe that nonsense.” Geoffrey turned and shouted at the men in Arabic. “Where in the blazes is Alan?” he demanded, striding back towards the cave.
“He’s right, you know,” the woman said, turning to follow him. Edmund sighed.
“Well, I guess we’d better figure out who he is.” Edmund glanced back at Kristi. “By the way, how did you know it was strychnine?”
“Was it?” She remembered the book he had been carrying and bit her lip. “It was just a guess.”
“Can’t tell for sure, but it looks like it.” He bent down and started searching through the man’s pockets. Vote below on what will happen next or if reading in email click Take our Poll.