Lord of the Silent - Elizabeth Peters [44]
“She’s not such a fool,” Ramses said. “Publishing anything at all about that episode would violate the Official Secrets Act and get her in serious trouble.”
Emerson had not said a word.
“Well, Emerson?” I inquired.
“Well,” said Emerson. “We had better go in to dinner before Mahmud burns the soup.”
In a normal household the discussion would have ended there, or been postponed until we four were alone. In this respect (as in certain other ways), ours is not a normal household. Emerson had always discussed anything he felt like discussing in front of the servants, sometimes asking them for their opinions or appealing to them for support (usually against me). It was this ill-bred habit of Emerson’s that had encouraged Gargery to offer his opinions even when Emerson did not ask for them.
We took our places at the table and I waited for Emerson to introduce the subject, which I felt sure he would sooner or later. I was tempted to introduce it myself, in the hope that it would get Gargery’s attention off his butling duties. He had, as was only natural, assumed he would take on the same duties in our Egyptian household. The only trouble was that Fatima considered it her duty and her right to serve our dinner. She seldom contributed to the conversation, but she liked to know what was going on.
So did Gargery. It would have been amusing to watch the two maneuvering for advantage if it hadn’t been so inconvenient. Neither would yield to the other, so dishes were slapped onto the table and snatched up with such efficiency that I had not eaten a full meal since we arrived. I had been meaning to have a little talk with the two of them, but had not yet found the time.
So, when Gargery reached for my soup bowl, I said, “I haven’t finished, Gargery. Emerson, what have you to say?”
“Miss Minton’s narrative,” said Emerson, fending Gargery off with his elbow, “is of purely academic interest. I see no reason to discuss it.”
“Do you believe her?” Nefret asked.
“Yes,” said Ramses. He glanced at Fatima, who was neatly blocking Gargery’s attempt to get at his soup. She insisted on his finishing every bite of every dish, because she considered he was too thin. He hastily swallowed the last spoonful and went on, “It was Sethos, unquestionably. The reference to one of his lieutenants, incomplete but faithfully recorded by Miss Minton, leaves no room for doubt. I understand now why she was so determined to see us and speak with you, Mother. She was obviously fascinated by him. What did you tell her?”
“It required some careful thought,” I said. “The resemblance between me and Miss Minton, and the references to certain of my characteristics, made it impossible for me to deny that I was the woman to whom he had referred. I felt obliged to disabuse her of her assumption that his purpose in being there was anything other than the one he had admitted.”
Gargery’s brow furrowed. “I beg your pardon, madam, but I can’t quite work my way through that sentence.”
“No one expects you to, Gargery,” I replied.
Gargery took offense at my dismissal of his implicit request and retaliated by removing my fish plate before I had taken more than two bites.
“What else did you tell her?” Nefret asked.
“I gave her a brief summary of his career as a thief, and I informed her that he had passed away. I hope that will put an end to her romantic notions, but I don’t count on it. A woman of a certain age . . . I wonder why she has never married.”
“Gargery,” said Emerson. “If you try to take my plate again before I have finished, I will pin your hand to the table with my fish fork.”
“Yes, sir,” said Gargery. He folded his arms and looked sternly at Emerson. “I think, sir, that you should tell us what this is all about. If that Master Criminal person has come back to life and is after you and the madam, we must take steps to protect you. What has he got to do with Miss Minton? I remember her; she gave us quite a lot of trouble over the British Museum case.”
Emerson turned rather red in the face.
“You may