Lord of the Silent - Elizabeth Peters [71]
Miss Minton’s insufferable smile faded. Her prominent chin jutted out. “You are mistaken, Mrs. Emerson. I had to follow up the story, it was too delicious to resist, and God knows I haven’t been able to get anything of interest out of the military.”
Emerson’s countenance resumed its normal shade. He has a frightful temper, but he can control it if he must. He saw what she was getting at, and so, of course, did I.
“Very well,” he said. “Selim, you may go.”
Selim was glad to do so. I indicated one of the packing cases we used as seats. “Sit down, Miss Minton. Let us not beat around the bush. What do you want from us?”
“A story, Mrs. Emerson. What can be the harm in that? Half Cairo knows of the body by now, its discovery cannot be kept secret. If you won’t give me an interview, perhaps I might talk with your son and daughter-in-law.”
“Unfortunately my son and daughter-in-law are not in Cairo.”
“So it is true that they have gone to Luxor. Why?”
“What the devil business is it of yours?” Emerson demanded.
“Don’t make a mystery of it, Emerson,” I said sharply. “They are taking a little holiday and making a brief tour of inspection of the Luxor monuments, particularly the tomb of Tetisheri.”
“There has been an increase in theft, I believe.”
“It is only to be expected under present circumstances. The more remote the site, the greater the difficulty of proper supervision.”
“But the situation is serious enough for you to send Ramses there. That leaves you badly shorthanded, doesn’t it?”
“No,” said Emerson. “Er—somewhat. It is a question of—”
“Of priorities,” I interrupted, seeing that he was about to make a mess of things. “We have answered your questions candidly and openly, Miss Minton.” I rose from my packing case to indicate the interview was at an end. “I trust you will not make a sensational story of the extraneous corpse. It has nothing to do with us, and we don’t want a lot of ghoulish sightseers coming round to bother us.”
“You have no idea why the murderer buried it in your tomb?”
“None whatever.”
She did not even say good-bye. Emerson waited until she had passed out of sight before he spoke. “Well done, Peabody. You are a damned fine liar when you put your mind to it.”
“Thank you, my dear. As you know, I never prevaricate unless it is absolutely necessary. I fear, however, that you missed the point of that exchange. I shall write immediately to Nefret and tell her she must prevent Ramses from seeing the newspapers. I only hope my letter reaches Luxor before Miss Minton.”
“Good Gad, Peabody, aren’t you jumping to unwarranted conclusions? What makes you suppose she is going to Luxor?”
“Didn’t you understand those questions about tomb robberies? She believes I lied to her, which of course I would have done had I felt it to be expedient. The silly, romantic creature is hoping Sethos is still alive.”
From Manuscript H
The inspection of Tetisheri’s tomb had been paramount. That accomplished, Ramses couldn’t make up his mind what to do next—or rather, he knew what he ought to do, but he didn’t know how to go about it. Assuming, he told himself sourly, that his imagination hadn’t got completely out of hand.
For the next two days they wandered with seeming aimlessness and great enjoyment around the west bank—carrying out a preliminary survey, as Ramses thought of it—revisiting the scenes of our misspent youth, as Nefret put it, rather more accurately. A visit to Abdullah’s tomb was one of their first acts; they stood in silence by the simple monument for some time before Nefret said quietly, “It would be nice to believe that he knows we’re here.”
“Do you believe it?”
Her hand slipped into his. “Mother does. I told you she dreams of him. He said Lia’s baby would be a boy and that they would name it after him. Now, don’t tilt your eyebrows at me, I know the odds as well as you do! It’s strange, though, that she always sees him in the same place—the cliff behind Deir el Bahri, on the