Lord of the Silent - Elizabeth Peters [161]
William Amherst—shy, harmless William—had been in Cairo when the attacks on us took place. To be sure, he had not been in Luxor when Sethos and Ramses were attacked. The reverse was true of the others . . . but was it? I would have to find out. Another possibility was that there were two people involved, one in Luxor, one in Cairo. The more I thought about that, the more likely it seemed. William had come to us seeking a position on our staff after Ramses left for Luxor. He had been in Egypt for many years and had worked with Cyrus in the Valley and at other sites. His career had not been particularly successful; his self-confidence had been eroded and his means were limited. He admitted to having been in Luxor, among other places, the previous year. Was his seemingly candid admission of moral collapse following his alleged attempt to enlist a way of concealing his true activities?
William began to squirm and look nervously at me, so I turned to Bertie, who was on my left, and asked him how he was getting on with his studies. The conversation had already taken an archaeological turn; poor Katherine was the only one present who had not a consuming interest in the subject, but she had become accustomed to enduring such discussions with a courteous appearance of interest, and she was anxious to encourage Bertie. I joined in at appropriate intervals, but never believe, Reader, that I had lost sight of what must be, for a time, my primary consideration. Deduction alone might lead us to discovering the identity of our unknown opponent, but if we could induce him to seek us out it would save time and trouble. I was considering ways of doing this when a chance question from Mr. MacKay gave me the opportunity. It was only a courteous inquiry as to how long we meant to remain in Luxor, but I immediately took advantage, catching Emerson with his mouth open.
“We are giving serious thought to spending the rest of the winter in Luxor. We have almost finished the task with which Herr Junker was good enough to entrust us, so there is nothing more for us to do at Giza, and Emerson believes that a detailed survey of the Luxor sites would prove useful.”
Emerson closed his mouth with an audible click of teeth; Cyrus expressed his delight and approval; and Mr. MacKay frowned. “Not that you have not done your best,” I added graciously. “But it is too large a task for one man.”
The young fellow’s troubled brow cleared. “Candidly, Mrs. Emerson, it would be a great relief to me. For some time I have been torn between my duty to my profession and my duty to my country. Were you and your family here, I could leave with a clear conscience.”
He sounded sincere. Was he?
Ramses had spoken very little. Observing his enigmatic look at MacKay, I realized his thoughts had been running along the same lines as mine.
MacKay and Barton did not linger over coffee, and both declined a postprandial libation. Their working day began at dawn. Soon thereafter Katherine took Bertie up to bed, and Cyrus suggested she retire as well. I was about to administer a tactful hint to William when he murmured something about being tired from the trip, and effaced himself. They were scarcely out of the room when all eyes focused on me, some in hopeful inquiry, some—Cyrus’s—in stern expectation.
“You aren’t going to wiggle out of it this time, Amelia,” he remarked. “I’ll sit here all night if I have to.”
“So you’ve heard,” Emerson said resignedly.
“About Emmeline? Yep. Now I’ve kept mum, folks, didn’t deny or admit anything. Seems to me I’m entitled to hear the whole story. Who is the mysterious lady?”
“That is no lady,” I said, unable to resist a touch of humor. “That is the Master Criminal.”
Cyrus’s jaw dropped and Emerson let out a strangled oath. Nefret’s face rounded in a smile. Ramses said nothing.
“Now, Emerson, don’t roar,” I said. “I realized immediately that we have no choice but to confide wholly in Cyrus. Why should we not?