The Ape Who Guards the Balance - Elizabeth Peters [62]
“We established those identities three years ago, Father.”
“Well, you had better dis-establish them. It has occurred to you, I trust, that someone more acute than your father must have penetrated your disguises? I confess,” Emerson added with grudging admiration, “that you took me in completely.”
“The events of last night confirm that assumption, sir. Though I cannot explain how. We were very careful.”
“Hmph. Well, if we can find Yussuf Mahmud he can answer all our questions. Our first move should be to learn whether he has shown himself in Luxor. I will just have some little chats with the antiquities dealers. Abdullah, you will question your friends and relatives in Gurneh?”
Abdullah nodded. He looked so grim I felt sorry for the friends and relatives. “It must be made known that the object the thief sought is no longer in Nur Misur’s room.”
“It is a good thought, my father.” Ramses switched from English to Arabic. “But after today it will be my room, and she will occupy mine. Do not speak of this, or of the papyrus. I would be very glad if the man would come back.”
Clipping from Al Ahram, December 29, 1906:
The body of a man was drawn from the Nile yesterday at Luxor, under strange circumstances. The hands and feet had been bound, and the remains were horribly mutilated, apparently by the jaws of a large animal such as a crocodile. There are no longer any crocodiles in the Luxor area.
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Six
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The news was all over Luxor next morning. We heard of it from Abdullah, who had heard of it from his cousin Mohammed, who had been told of it by his son Raschid, who had spoken with one of the unfortunate boatmen who had found the remains. I did not doubt that the discovery had been unpleasant enough, but by the time it reached us it had been magnified and exaggerated to an astonishing degree.
“A crocodile,” Abdullah insisted. “Raschid said Sayed said it could have been nothing else.”
“Nonsense, Abdullah. You know there have been no crocodiles in Egypt since . . . well, not in our lifetimes.”
Abdullah rolled his eyes. “Let us hope it was a crocodile, Sitt. For if it was not, it was something worse.”
“What could be worse?” I demanded.
Abdullah leaned forward and planted his hands on his knees. “There are men who believe the old gods are not dead, but only sleeping. Those who violate the tombs of the dead—”
“Some believe that,” I agreed. “Surely you are not one of them, Abdullah?”
“Not believing is not the same as not knowing, Sitt.”
“Hmm,” I said, after I had worked my way through the string of negatives. “Well, Abdullah, if it is true that the old gods resent those who enter the tombs we are all in trouble—you and I and Emerson. So let us hope it is not true.”
“Yes, Sitt. But there is no harm in protecting oneself against that which is not true.” He gestured at the amulets on the chain round my neck, and then reached into the breast of his robe. “I have brought you another one.”
Like most of the amulets found in Egypt, it was of blue-green faience, and it had been molded with a loop on the back so that it could be hung on a cord. I didn’t doubt it was genuine. Abdullah had his connections. Smiling, I took the trinket from his hand.
“Thank you,” I said. “But what of Emerson? Have you brought amulets for him too?”
“He would not wear them, Sitt.”
“No. Abdullah, are you sure that is the reason why you gave this to me and not to Emerson? It couldn’t be, could it, that you consider me more in need of protection than he?”
Abdullah’s face remained grave, but there was a glint in his black eyes that I had learned to recognize. Had he been teasing me the whole time? He was certainly laughing at me now. “You are not careful, Sitt. You do foolish things.”
“If I do, you and Emerson will watch over me,” I said cheerfully. “And now I will have Sobek to protect me too.”
I unfastened the chain and added the little figure of the crocodile god to the others.
Ramses went to view the body. The