The Ape Who Guards the Balance - Elizabeth Peters [114]
Davis and Weigall were down below, getting in the way of the men who were removing the stones from the demolished wall and carrying them up to a dump nearby. The sections of plaster bearing the necropolis seals had been hacked off and tossed into a basket. I could see no more from where I stood.
“That depends on Mr. Davis,” Smith replied amiably, mopping his wet forehead with his sleeve. “And on whether there is anything worth painting. They’ve just got the wall down, and I don’t know what lies beyond. Exciting, isn’t it?”
Nefret, who had been chatting with Mrs. Andrews, joined us in time to hear his last question. “It certainly is!” she exclaimed. Raising her voice to a piercing soprano scream, she called out, “Mr. Davis, may I see? I am so excited! ”
“Later, child, later.” Davis came creaking up the stairs, looking very tired and hot but very pleased. He was not a young man; one had to give him credit for enthusiasm, at least. He patted Nefret on the head. “We are stopping for lunch now. Come back in a few hours if you like. And,” he added with a smug smile, “do bring Professor Emerson with you.”
Mr. Davis’s luncheons, which were served in a nearby tomb, were notoriously long and luxurious. We finished our own modest repast in short order, so we were back on the spot well ahead of him. Bareheaded in the boiling sun, Emerson seated himself on a boulder and lit his pipe. Ramses and David went off to talk with Davis’s reis, who was sitting in the shade with the other men, awaiting, with the stolid resignation of their class, the return of their employer. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but there was quite a lot of laughter, and David kept blushing.
When Mr. Davis returned, accompanied by the entourage, he greeted us with unusual warmth. “I thought you’d want to have a look,” he remarked. “I’ve done it again, you see. Found myself another tomb.”
Emerson bit down hard on the stem of his pipe. “Hmph,” he said. “Yes. Anything I can do, of course.”
“Not necessary,” Davis assured him. “We have everything under control.”
I heard something crack and hoped it was only the stem of Emerson’s pipe, and not one of his teeth.
In fact, it was not long before work ended for the day. The ladies of Davis’s party were complaining of the heat, and Weigall was looking rather grave. I overheard him say something about the police. Unable to repress my curiosity any longer, I joined the group, which consisted of Weigall, Davis, Ayrton and Nefret.
“What is going on?” I inquired.
“Have a look if you like,” Davis said amiably. His mustache was limp with sweat and his eyes shone.
Ned politely gave me a hand down the stairs. The entrance gaped open except for a few courses of stone remaining at the base. The descending passage typical of Eighteenth Dynasty tombs sloped down into darkness. It was filled to within three feet of the rock-cut ceiling with loose rubble, and on top of the rubble was the strangest object I had ever seen in an Egyptian tomb. It filled the passage from wall to wall, and the entire surface shone with gold. I leaned forward, not daring to move, hardly daring to breathe, for even as I looked a golden flake the size of my thumbnail shivered and dropped from the side of the object onto the stones under it.
“What is it?” I whispered.
“A panel covered with gold leaf, possibly from a shrine.” Ned’s voice was as soft as mine. “There is another gilded object lying on top of it—perhaps a door from the same shrine.”
“And beyond—at the end of the passage?”
“Who knows? More stairs, another chamber—perhaps the burial chamber itself. We will find out tomorrow. Weigall is going to run a wire down, so we will have electric lights.”
Now that he had given me a clue I was able to make out a few more details. There appeared to be reliefs and inscriptions on the panel.
“The gold leaf must have been applied over a layer of gesso, which is already loose. You aren’t going to let that doddering old idiot climb in over it, are you?”
In my indignation I spoke almost as bluntly as Emerson would have done (he would