The Falcon at the Portal - Elizabeth Peters [25]
Jack is a nice-enough chap in his obtuse fashion. If only he wouldn’t treat all women the way he does his bird-brained sister, with a mixture of affection and condescension! He explained that he and Maude had been “doing” a European tour before returning to Cairo for the winter season.
We took tea with them at the Savoy, where they were staying. Maude was as adorable as only she can be, black curls bouncing, brown eyes wide, chubby cheeks pink. “Meow!” I can hear you say. Very well, I admit it—I’ve always envied girls who have that vivid autumnal coloring and ripe, rounded shape—
it’s not just Maude’s cheeks that are plump! I’m too thin and I haven’t any bosom, and I don’t know how to be adorable.
They asked after you and David, of course.
Esdaile’s revelations added a new complication to our search for the forger. Ramses continued to urge that we make the matter public, but even he was forced to admit that it would be cruel to allow David to hear of it from strangers—an eventuality that well might ensue once the word began to spread. Nefret, who had been of his opinion, was won over to ours by this argument, though it went against her nature.
Some preliminary inquiries were necessary; we could not personally call on every dealer and private collector in Europe. Emerson and I were still discussing how to go about these when Ramses suddenly disappeared from the house. When questioned, Nefret admitted she knew where he had gone, assured us he was not up to anything illegal or dangerous, and politely refused to answer any further questions.
He reappeared two days later, as suddenly as he had departed, and replied to our agitated queries by handing over a sheaf of telegrams. A glance at one of them explained all. It had been sent to a Mr. Hiram Applegarth at the Savoy, and read, TWO FINE HEART SCARABS RECENTLY ACQUIRED FROM UNIMPEACHABLE SOURCE STOP LOOK FORWARD TO YOUR VISIT.
Emerson, thumbing through the messages, let out a string of swear words, ending with an emphatic “Damnation! Did you telegraph every dealer in Europe? This must have cost a fortune. And was it absolutely necessary to put up at the Savoy?”
“It was necessary to establish an impression of wealth,” Ramses explained. “I had to give them a return address, and I could hardly use ours.”
“Since you did not ask your father or me for money, I presume you used Nefret’s,” I said.
“It is not mine” Nefret snapped, before Ramses could answer. “It is ours. His, yours, David’s, Lia’s. We’re a family, aren’t we? I’ve told you before—”
“Yes, my dear, you have.” I studied my son, who looked back at me with a particularly enigmatic expression. When Nefret said, “What is mine is yours,” she really meant it; but for some individuals it is easier to give than to receive, and for Ramses to accept assistance of any kind was truly remarkable. It was not only an acknowledgment of her equality, but a subjugation of that towering pride of his. I gave him an approving smile. “Well, we will say no more about it, since the procedure appears to have been effective.”
“It gives us several possible leads, at any rate,” said Ramses. “I—Nefret and I—had to act without delay. We are due to leave in a week.”
It was true, and we were all anxious to be off. The dreary days of autumn were upon us; only a few yellowed leaves clung to the barren branches, and the last roses had perished in an early frost. The hours of darkness were lengthening, the wind blew chill and wet.
In short, the weather was ideal for criminal endeavors. That night the lodgekeeper and his family were snugly shut up in their house, curtains drawn against the rainy darkness. Our pampered and lazy dogs were not inclined to leave their warm kennel on such a night. We had spent the day sightseeing, and at my suggestion we all retired early.
At least