The Ape Who Guards the Balance - Elizabeth Peters [38]
I glanced at my lapel watch. Nefret was not really late, since we had not specified a time, but she ought to have been here by now. I decided to go in search of her.
When I knocked at her door I did not receive an immediate reply, and concluded she had not yet returned, but as I was about to turn away the door opened a few inches and Nefret’s face appeared. She looked a trifle fussed.
“Oh, it is you, Aunt Amelia. Are you ready for tea?”
“Yes, and have been this past quarter hour,” I replied, standing on tiptoe and trying to see past her into the room, from which I could hear surreptitious sounds. “Is someone with you? Fatima?”
“Er—no.” She tried to outstare me, but of course did not succeed. With a little smile she stepped back and opened the door. “It is only Ramses and David.”
“I don’t know why you were making such a mystery of it,” I remarked. “Good afternoon, boys. Are you joining us for tea?”
They were standing, but one of them must have been sprawled on the bed, for the spread was crumpled. I forbore comment, however, since they were both properly attired, except for Ramses’s tie, which was not around his neck or anyplace else that I could see.
“Good afternoon, Mother,” said Ramses. “Yes, we intend to take tea with you, if that is agreeable.”
“Certainly. Where is your tie? Find it and put it on before you come downstairs.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“We will meet you on the terrace, then.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“In half an hour.”
“Yes, Mother.”
From Manuscript H
Nefret closed the door, waited for thirty seconds, and eased it open again just far enough to peer out.
“She’s gone.”
“Did you think she would be listening at the door?” David asked.
Neither of the others bothered to answer. Ramses carefully drew back the rumpled counterpane and let out a breath of relief. “No damage,” he reported. “But we cannot go on doing this sort of thing.”
“We won’t do it again,” Nefret said. “But we had to have a closer look, and we couldn’t risk it while we were on the boat. Our quarters are too cramped and Fatima was always popping in to see if I wanted anything. It was clever of you to persuade Aunt Amelia to book rooms at the hotel.”
“She thinks it was her idea,” Ramses said.
David had designed and built a container that displayed one twelve-inch panel at a time, with compartments at either end to hold the unrolled and re-rolled sections. The panel now visible showed the same subject depicted on the papyrus in the museum—the weighing of the soul—but this rendering was even surer and more delicate. The suppliant’s slender form showed through her robe of sheer white linen. Before her stood the balance, with her heart—the seat of understanding and conscience—in one pan, and in the other the feather of Maat, representing truth, justice and order. The fate that followed a guilty verdict was dreadful indeed: to be devoured by Amnet, Eater of Souls, a monster with the head of a crocodile, the body of a lion, and the hind quarters of a hippopotamus.
“Of course that never happened,” Ramses said. “The papyrus itself assured a successful outcome, not only by affirming it but by—”
“I don’t want to hear a lecture on Egyptian religion,” Nefret said. “This is like the queen’s papyrus, but it’s much longer and the workmanship is even finer.”
“It is two hundred years older,” David said. “Nineteenth Dynasty. Papyri of that period are lighter in color and less brittle than later examples. I don’t think we’ve damaged it but Ramses is right, we must keep it covered and not unroll any more of it.”
“I wonder,” Ramses said.
“What do you mean?”
“Ordinarily I would agree that it ought to be handled as little as possible. I have a feeling, though, that somebody wants it back. We ought to have a copy in case he succeeds.”
“Nonsense,” Nefret scoffed. “It’s been three days and no one has bothered us.”
“Except for the swimmer Mohammed saw night before last.”
“Mohammed imagined it. Or invented it, to prove he was alert