The Ape Who Guards the Balance - Elizabeth Peters [87]
“Sethos does have a private collection of antiquities. What he said—er . . .” I pretended to consult my notes. It was not necessary; never would I forget those words, or the look in those strange chameleon eyes when he pronounced them. “He said: ‘The most beautiful objects I take, I keep for myself.’ ”
Emerson growled deep in his throat, and Ramses remarked, with greater tact than I would have expected, “The papyrus certainly meets his criteria. What else did he say?”
I started to shake my head—caught Nefret’s fond but critical eye—and sighed. “That Emerson was one of the few individuals in the world who could constitute a danger to him. He did not explain why. He claimed he had never harmed a woman. He promised . . . No, let me be absolutely accurate. He implied that he would never again interfere with me or injure those I love.”
“It appears you misunderstood that one,” my son said dryly.
“What else?” Nefret demanded inflexibly.
“As to his familiarity with our personal habits and private affairs . . . Well, let me put it this way. He knows enough about Ramses to suspect that he has become interested in the art of disguise, and that he could easily pass as an Egyptian. Once the suspicion arose, a clever man might be able to deduce the identity of Ali the Rat. For one thing, Ali was seen in Cairo only when we were there. I cannot think of anything else that would help us. That is the truth, Nefret.”
It was the truth—or so I honestly believed. It would not be fair or accurate to say I was mistaken, for at that time none of us had the faintest inkling . . . But excuses do not become me. I was wrong, and the price I paid for my error was one that will haunt me for the rest of my life.
A pensive and (in Nefret’s case) somewhat skeptical silence followed. No one questioned my statement, however. Finally Ramses said, “It doesn’t get us any further, does it? There is nothing to suggest Sethos is not behind this business and nothing to prove that he is. If the incident in London is unrelated to the others, we have another unknown foe to contend with, and it may be that he would have exchanged David and me for the papyrus. If Sethos is the mastermind, he only took us prisoner as a means of getting to Mother. Humiliating, isn’t it, David? No one wants us for our charming selves.”
“Could I have a look at this famous papyrus?” Cyrus asked. “It must be something darned remarkable if a fellow is willing to go to such lengths to get it back.”
“It is,” Ramses said.
“As papyri go,” said Emerson, who is not as impressed by papyri as are some people. “Fetch it here, Ramses.”
Ramses did so. Cyrus let out a low whistle. “It’s darned elegant, all right. Mr. Walter Emerson is going to go off his head about it.”
“Uncle Walter!” David started to his feet. “Good heavens! He and Aunt Evelyn and Lia . . . They mustn’t come! They could be in terrible danger.”
“Now, David, don’t be so melodramatic,” I said. “There is no reason to suppose—”
“He’s right, though,” Emerson said. “At the moment we don’t know what the devil is going on, much less why. Three more potential victims would complicate the problem even further. We had better head them off.”
“It is too late,” I said hollowly. “They sailed from Marseilles this morning.”
It was Katherine who dispelled the Gothic atmosphere with a simple statement. “Always expect the worst and take steps to prevent it.”
“Just what I was about to say,” I exclaimed. “Steps! We must take steps! Er—what steps?”
There was something very comforting about that calm pink-cheeked face of hers. “First, take every possible means to protect yourselves. Secure this place and don’t go abroad without an escort. Second, postpone or cancel the visit of your family. I don’t doubt Evelyn and Walter can take care of themselves, but the girl cannot; she would only be an additional