The Golden One - Elizabeth Peters [46]
“I depend on you, Gargery, to keep a close eye out when you take Miss Sennia to the Castle for her lessons with Mrs. Vandergelt. I doubt there is any reason for concern, but it would be foolish to take chances.”
“I agree, madam,” said Gargery, standing stiff as a wooden soldier and smiling broadly.
“How good of you to say so, Gargery. Where the devil is that girl? Gargery, please go and . . . Ah, there you are, Jumana. Sit down and eat something and be quick about it.”
We were to meet Daoud and Selim at Gurneh and go on from there to the Cemetery of the Monkeys, taking with us the necessary equipment for the ghoulish task that lay ahead. Since no one was keen on carrying the dreadful burden any farther than they had to, we planned to go the long way round, by way of the road which would enable us to bring a donkey-drawn cart part of the distance.
The cart was ready when we arrived at Selim’s house, to find him and Daoud and Hassan, another of our fellows, waiting. I could see by their faces that they had been warned of what they were supposed to do, and I didn’t blame them for looking gloomy.
“I have everything we will need,” Selim announced. “But before we go, I think you will wish to talk with Mohammed Hammad. He is here.”
“Ah,” said Emerson. “The disappointed bridegroom. Have you told him of our discovery yesterday?”
“No, Father of Curses,” said Selim, looking as demure as a husky young man with a large black beard can look.
Emerson laughed aloud and clapped him on the back. “Good. It will be an even greater shock coming from me.”
Mohammed Hammad was a wiry little man with a face as wrinkled as a raisin and a graying beard. Like most Egyptians of the fellahin class, he was probably younger than he looked. Inadequate diet, insanitary living conditions, and an absence of proper medical care can age an individual rapidly. Now there, I thought, is a cause that might attract Nefret, and allow her to use her medical skills in the place where I intended she should be—a clinic on the West Bank, to treat common ailments such as parasites and infections. Not a stimulating practice, perhaps, for a trained surgeon, but one thing might lead to another . . .
I put the matter aside for the moment, so that I could concentrate on our suspect. Expecting to be lectured by Emerson about the tomb, and prepared to deny everything, he greeted us with a certain reserve. Emerson did not beat around the bush.
“We found one of your friends yesterday, in the tomb you robbed. Dead. Murdered.”
It was an effective, if somewhat brutal, method of shocking Mohammed into an admission. I thought for a moment the poor man would have a stroke or a heart attack. He finally managed to gasp out a word. “Who . . .”
“You would know better than we,” Emerson said. “Selim tells me that Abdul Hassan has not been seen for a week. He was one of your . . . Damnation,” he went on, in English. “He’s about to have a fit. Give him some brandy, Peabody.”
Mohammed accepted the brandy (one of the little items I always carry attached to my belt) with an eagerness unbecoming a good Moslem (which I had never thought he was). He was ready to talk; the words poured out of him, and a disturbing story it was.
Of the original thieves, two were now dead. The other death had been attributed to accident; the body had been found at the base of the cliffs and it was assumed he had fallen.
“The curse of the pharaohs,” said Emerson, unable to resist. “Death to those who defile the tombs.”
The brandy had restored Mohammed’s nerve. He gave Emerson a cynical look. “It took the pharaohs a long time to act, Father of Curses. Abdul has been robbing tombs since he was a boy.”
“He won’t rob any more,” Emerson pointed out. “Who were the others?”
Mohammed rattled the names off without hesitating. Everyone in the village knew, including his rivals in the business, so there was no profit in reticence. He demanded extralarge baksheesh for his candor, of course. “That is all I can tell you, Father of Curses. Can I go now?”
“You have not told me everything,” Emerson