The Falcon at the Portal - Elizabeth Peters [109]
“None of us entertained it,” I assured him. “It is very kind of you to reassure Ramses, Katherine, but with all respect to your undoubted acumen, I cannot see this gets us any further. Unless you are suggesting that it was a former lover who killed her? And carried her body all that way in the hope of incriminating the man who had replaced him in Maude’s affections … Hmmmm.”
“Control your outrageous imagination, Amelia,” Emerson exclaimed. “If the girl’s death were an isolated incident, there might be another motive, but there have been—how many?—three, four other seeming accidents. Curse it, this must be connected with our search for the forger. She knew something—or he thought she did—”
“Accidents,” Cyrus interrupted. “What accidents?”
“I suppose,” I said musingly, “that the shots fired at me might have been aimed at someone else. Or something else. But there was no game in sight—”
“Shots,” Cyrus gasped. He began tugging agitatedly at his goatee. “I ought to be used to you, Amelia, but consarn it, you make my blood run cold sometimes. What shots? When? How many amusing little incidents like that have there been?”
Emerson was disinclined to admit his near fall from the pyramid had been one of the incidents in question, but he was overruled by the rest of us; the ostentatious ostracon must have been placed where it was in order to lead him onto a treacherous stretch.
“The most maddening thing about them,” I said, “is that we have no idea why the villain is after us. If we were hot on his trail he might wish to distract or destroy us, but we haven’t discovered a single confounded clue as to his identity, and he must be aware of that. A sensible villain (if there can be such a thing) would avoid stirring us up.”
Katherine and her husband looked at one another. Cyrus shook his head. Katherine shrugged.
“Are you thinking the same thing I am?” Cyrus demanded of his wife.
“I feel certain I am, Cyrus.”
“What are you talking about?” I inquired.
“I don’t understand how you could have missed it.” Katherine turned back to me. “Could we be mistaken, Cyrus?”
“Durned if I see how, Katherine.”
“Confound it!” Emerson shouted. “Vandergelt, are you trying to drive me to distraction with enigmatic hints and unanswered questions? You sound like my wife.”
“All right, old buddy,” Cyrus said with a grin. “You’re off the track, and I’ll tell you how. These accidents of yours don’t have a blamed thing to do with the forgeries. They were designed for one purpose and one purpose only: Somebody’s trying to drive you away from Zawaiet el ’Aryan!”
After an interval that seemed to last longer than it actually did, Emerson said, “Peabody, if you tell me you had already arrived at that theory, I will—I will never take you inside another pyramid!”
“Then I won’t tell you, Emerson.”
“But Mrs. Vandergelt, that is absolutely brilliant!” Nefret exclaimed. She clapped her hands and jumped to her feet—and trod heavily upon the tail of Horus, who had, I am convinced, spread himself out across as large a space as possible in the hope that someone would trip over him or give him an excuse to complain. He did complain, most vociferously, and attacked Nefret’s trailing skirts with his claws. Nefret tried to raise both feet at once, got them tangled in her ruffles, and pitched forward into the arms of Ramses, who had sprung to her assistance. He swung her up out of the cat’s reach. Seeing there was no sympathy to be got from Nefret, who was swearing over the rents in her skirts, Horus stormed out of the room, deliberately knocking over a small table and a footstool. Ramses was laughing; affronts to Horus generally cheered him up.
“Well, really, one can hardly blame the girls,” Katherine whispered. “Goodness, Amelia, the lad is absolutely séduisant when he smiles!”
“Hmmm,” I said. “He is not vain about his looks, I will say that for him. Kindly do not encourage him. Ramses, put her down.”
“Yes, Mother.”
He deposited Nefret on the sofa, and Emerson said sourly, “One can always count on a bit of comic relief in this house.”
Nefret