The Falcon at the Portal - Elizabeth Peters [39]
“And that substantiates our earlier deductions,” Ramses said. “The fellow is English or European. Or,” he added, glancing at Nefret, “American. Why should he take the risk of peddling his fakes here when he can get better prices, more safely, from European dealers? We know he was in Europe and England this past summer; that’s when all the objects were sold, and none of them came on the market before April. That suggests this is a recent operation.”
“Not much help,” Nefret grumbled. Then she brightened. “Let’s make a list of suspects.”
“Premature,” Ramses said, looking down his nose at her.
“I don’t agree,” I said. “We have deduced all that is possible from the scanty information at our disposal. Why not speculate—theorize, rather—a bit? It can do no harm and might lead to something.”
“You’ve made one of your outrageous lists, I suppose,” Emerson said resignedly.
“I have made a list, yes. As for outrageous—”
“So have I,” Nefret said quickly. “Who is first on yours, Aunt Amelia?”
“I believe I could hazard a guess,” Ramses murmured.
“Pray do,” I said, with a suspicious look at him.
“Howard Carter.”
Nefret gasped, Emerson swore, and I said severely, “Have you been snooping in my papers again, Ramses?”
“No, Mother. I know how your mind works. Carter has three things against him. He is an artist and an Egyptologist, and he has no income of his own. He passed three years without a position, scraping a living as best he could, and he is still dependent on the caprices of patrons like the Earl of Carnarvon. The temptation to build up a little nest egg would be understandable.”
“You are assuming that the motive behind this is greed,” I said.
“A logical assumption, isn’t it? There may be strange, perverse motives that elude me—” He looked at Nefret, and his rare smile warmed his austere features. “But the only such motive that comes to mind is resentment of David or of our family in general, and that is surely farfetched. There are simpler, more direct ways of getting back at us.”
“Quite,” Emerson grunted. “I refuse to discuss strange perversions. The most obvious motive is the need or desire for money. That might well apply to Carter, but your sweeping description of him as an artist is balderdash. The fellow we’re looking for is a sculptor, not a painter.”
“The two categories are not necessarily exclusive,” Ramses said, before I could offer my opinion. “And the forger and the scholar need not be the same person.”
“That might be considered another point against Carter,” Emerson admitted. “He’s been working in Luxor for years, as Inspector for the Antiquities Department, as a dealer, and as an excavator. He is probably on first-name terms with every forger in Gurneh.”
“He would not need a forger, since he is an artist himself,” I pointed out. “The same is true of the other individuals on my list.”
“Come, come, Peabody. How many such individuals can there be?” Emerson demanded.
“You would be surprised, Emerson. What about Signor Barsanti?”
“Ridiculous, Peabody. He’s fifty years of age if he’s a day, with no stain on his character. I thought we agreed our suspect is one of the younger lot.”
“An assumption only, Emerson. Altered circumstances may drive a formerly honest man to crime. Signor Barsanti was originally hired as a conservator and restorer. A man who has learned how to restore a work of art has learned how to imitate it. Then there are Mr. Quibell and his wife. Annie was copying reliefs at Sakkara when we first met her, if you recall; I’ll wager she knows enough about the language to produce the fakes single-handedly. Mr. and Mrs. de Garis Davies have produced copies of Theban tomb paintings that are almost the equal of our dear Evelyn’s, and—”
“Why in heaven’s name would they—any of them—do such a thing?” Emerson exploded. He caught my eye. “All right, Peabody, all right. We’ll leave motive aside for the moment. Who else?”
“Karl von Bork. Though ordinarily I would dispute the assumption that husband and wife should be regarded as a single entity, I fear that Karl and Mary fall into that category.