Lord of the Silent - Elizabeth Peters [104]
Nefret didn’t know whether that offer of friendship was genuine, but she knew it would be foolish to reject it.
“Thank you,” she said. “Margaret. I had better go and collect my husband. He seems to have gone off with Mr. Kuentz.”
He was alone, in fact, just inside the door of the hotel. When he saw her approach he came out, trying not to look as if he had been hiding, and took her arm.
“I thought my absence would give you an excuse to get away.” he explained. “What were you going on about so long?”
Nefret repeated the conversation.
“I’ve nothing against the woman,” Ramses said thoughtfully. “I rather admired her. But those questions about illegal antiquities, and her interest in Kuentz’s story make me wonder about her real motive for coming here—particularly in view of our recent encounter.”
Nefret shook her head decidedly. “She still wants to believe he is alive, but she can’t know anything. Unless . . .”
“Unless what?”
“Unless he told her.”
“The last thing he wants is an infatuated female—and a journalist at that—on his trail,” Ramses said.
“Then it’s just a forlorn hope,” Nefret said softly.
“Stop a minute,” Ramses said. “I’ve had an idea and I don’t want to discuss it in front of the kiddies.”
The pylons of the Luxor Temple glowed in the afternoon sunlight. Ramses turned to look at them. He’d never finished copying the reliefs in the Hypostyle Hall. There was so much to do, so many irreplaceable records that were deteriorating daily . . .
Nefret joggled his elbow. “Well? Don’t get lost in archaeological speculation, not now.”
“Well. Let’s suppose that after the initial shock, Minton was canny enough to realize that Mother might have been lying in her teeth.”
“Which she was.”
“Except for one vital piece of information. My omniscient mama wasn’t lying about that, but she was, as we have just learned, dead wrong. Let us also suppose that as a journalist and a member of a ‘superior’ social class, Minton has access to certain sources of information. And don’t ask me what, because I haven’t the faintest idea. All I’m saying is that she might have learned something from someone that strengthened that forlorn hope.”
“Someone in the War Office, you mean? It’s awfully vague,” Nefret said dubiously. “So what do you suggest we do?”
“Cultivate the confounded woman. You can do it,” he added hastily. “Exchange girlish confidences, and all that.”
“Why don’t you cultivate her? You do look a bit like him, and she clearly enjoyed that fond embrace at Giza.”
“Damn it, Nefret, you know that wasn’t my idea. Oh. You’re joking?”
“Yes.” She slipped her arm through his and leaned against him.
“I will defend my honor to the best of my ability,” Ramses said. “So we cultivate her. It’s worth a try. Searching for Sethos all over Luxor is a waste of time and energy. We need to come up with another scheme to make him come to us.”
“He’ll be on his guard now—if he hasn’t already left.”
“I’ll believe he’s gone when I hear that someone has made off with a pyramid or the temple of Dendera,” Ramses muttered. “No, he’s still here. The only other thing I can think to do is try to locate his confederates. This is where we miss Selim and Abdullah. They had and have connections with most of the jolly little tomb robbers of Gurneh. I’ll see what a few carefully chosen curses will do.”
“So we’re going to Gurneh?”
“Not today. Do you remember Lansing telling us about the tomb robber Kuentz caught in the act? Kuentz gave me the location. I thought we might have a look at it.” He ran long fingers through his hair and added morosely, “Who knows, the fellow may have been considerate enough to leave a footprint or a scrap of paper with Sethos’s cryptogram on it.”
“We’ll have to collect Jumana