The Deeds of the Disturber - Elizabeth Peters [76]
‘For if that is indeed the case, as I suspect –’
‘Go to bed, Ramses,’ I said.
‘Yes, Mama. Thank you for your indulgence in letting me reassure –’
‘Now, Ramses.’
After embracing his Papa and me, Ramses finally did as he was asked. It was not until after he had left the room that I realized he had taken the shawabty with him.
‘Let him have it,’ Emerson said indulgently. ‘Poor little chap, he probably wants to perform some of his quaint chemical tests upon it. I say, Peabody, that was a good idea of his. I think I will just run out and call on Petrie and Quibell to ask if they received –’
‘Not now, Emerson. Cook is holding dinner; you were very late, you know.’
‘In that case,’ Emerson said, ‘we had better not take the time to dress for dinner.’
I hope that one day someone will make a study of the means whereby information is dispensed in households such as ours. Of course Ramses is a unique case; there are times when a superstitious person might well believe, as certain of our Egyptian workmen do believe, that he can hear through walls, and see through them too. Whether it was from Ramses, or from the maid who had been in the bathroom, or some other source, Gargery knew all about the shawabty and the threatening message, even before Emerson told him. He was kind enough to agree with Emerson that it might be advantageous to learn whether any other individuals had received such objects.
‘If you would like to begin inquiries this evening, sir, I will see to it that any letters you might wish to write are delivered.’
‘Very good of you, Gargery,’ said Emerson.
‘Not at all, sir.’
After he had left the room to supervise the serving of the next course (an excellent Capon à la Godard), I addressed Emerson severely. ‘Really, Emerson, do you think it advisable to take Gargery into your confidence as you do? I am sure Evelyn won’t like it if her butler joins in the conversation at the dinner table.’
‘Well, but Gargery is not like Wilkins; I can never get that fellow to say anything but “I really could not say, sir.” Gargery made a useful suggestion. I wonder . . .’
‘Yes, Emerson?’
‘I wonder if he might have an extra pipe he could lend me. I could replace it tomorrow after the shops open.’
After dinner we retired to the library to write the letters Gargery had suggested. But this was one task that was never to be completed. Scarcely had we settled ourselves with pen and paper – and a pipe, which Gargery had indeed been pleased to provide – than the butler reappeared.
‘There is someone to see you, Professor – Mrs Emerson.’
‘At this hour?’ Emerson exclaimed, throwing his pen down. ‘What infernal presumption!’
‘You were perfectly willing to send messengers to your friends at this hour,’ I reminded him. ‘Who is it, Gargery? Give me his card.’
‘He had no card, madam,’ said Gargery, with a sneer almost up to Wilkins’ standard. ‘But he insists the matter is urgent. His name is O’Connell –’
‘O’Connell? O’Connell?’ Emerson’s brows lowered. ‘Take Mr O’Connell and . . . but you will require assistance, Gargery; you are, if you will excuse my saying so, on the weedy side. Fetch the largest of the footmen, request him to take Mr O’Connell by his collar, and propel him –’
‘No, wait, Emerson,’ I said; for Gargery’s expression suggested that he was ready and willing to carry out any suggestion his idol might make. ‘Mr O’Connell would not come here – and at such a late hour – unless he had pressing news. Should we not hear what he has to say?’
‘A point, Peabody. I can always pitch him into the lily pond afterwards, and have the satisfaction of doing it myself. Show the gentleman in, Gargery.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Gargery marched out. Emerson leaned forward, his eyes bright with anticipation – whether of the information O’Connell might bring, or the expectation of being able to perpetrate the described indignity upon his person, I would hesitate to say.
For once O’Connell showed no sign of the nervousness he usually displayed in Emerson’s presence.