The Ape Who Guards the Balance - Elizabeth Peters [146]
Emerson’s eyes widened. “Hell and damnation! Can it be—but it must be! Bertha!”
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Thirteen
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I had to clear my throat before I could speak intelligibly. “No. Impossible.”
“It can’t be coincidental,” Emerson muttered. “She fits Nefret’s criteria in every particular.”
“Not every particular, Emerson. She was not . . . Oh, good Gad! Do you believe she was?”
Nefret’s blue eyes glittered like the best Kashmir sapphires. “I hope you won’t think me ill-mannered, Aunt Amelia, if I suggest you tell us what the devil you are talking about—for a change. Bertha was the woman who was involved in the Vincey affair the year you and the Professor were in Egypt without us. What has she to do with Sethos?”
“Sethos was also involved in that business,” Emerson admitted. “We were unaware of it until the very end, and once again he managed to elude us.”
“And so did Bertha,” I said numbly. “We encountered her again the following year, at which time she was actively engaged in the illicit antiquities game.”
“So it was she who abducted Nefret,” Ramses said. “Then who is Matilda?”
“Bertha’s bodyguard and lieutenant. It was she who helped carry Nefret off and . . . How the devil do you know that name?”
For once Ramses had no ready reply. His dark-fringed eyes, avoiding mine, locked with those of Nefret, who squared her shoulders and spoke in a firm voice.
“We found your list, Aunt Amelia. What else can we do but eavesdrop and pry when you treat us like infants? Ramses, I forbid you to apologize.”
“I hadn’t intended to,” said Ramses.
“No, you were trying to invent a plausible lie. No more of that! We want the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Well, Aunt Amelia?”
“You are in the right,” I said numbly, for my brain was still struggling to assimilate this unexpected revelation. “In some ways Bertha would be a more dangerous adversary than Sethos himself. She is and was a totally unscrupulous, brilliantly clever woman, and she boasted of having formed a criminal organization of women. Layla must have been one of her henchmen—er—women. Another fact that may well be relevant is that she—er—she appears to harbor a personal grudge against me.”
“Why?” Nefret asked. “Did she explain?”
“Perhaps ‘grudge’ is not the precise word. The precise word she used was ‘hate.’ She said she had lain awake nights planning how she would kill me. Some of the methods she had invented were—again I quote—very ingenious.”
I had not realized the recollection of that conversation would be so disturbing. I do not believe voice or countenance betrayed me, but Nefret’s stony face softened, and Emerson put a supportive hand on my shoulder.
“ ‘Grudge’ does seem inadequate,” said my son coolly. “What had you done to annoy her, Mother?”
“I had treated her much more gently than she deserved,” I replied. “Her antipathy toward me arises from . . . Emerson, my dear, I am sorry to embarrass you, but—”
Emerson’s brows drew together in a scowl. “Peabody, are you still harboring that flattering fantasy about Bertha’s attachment to me? Her interest in me was transitory and—er—specific. And, I hope I need not say, unreciprocated! After the death of her paramour she went looking for another protector, for, as you once said, my dear, discrimination against women makes it difficult for them to succeed in criminal endeavors without a male partner. We now have reason to believe she found that partner.”
“Of course,” Nefret cried. “It is all coming together. Bertha joined Sethos and fell in love with him. She believed she had captured his heart until the mere sight of you at the demonstration caused him to betray the unaltered intensity of his devotion! Frenzied with jealousy, Bertha sent the message that would have delivered you into her vengeful hands had not your gallant defenders arrived in the nick