The Hippopotamus Pool - Elizabeth Peters [115]
‘There’s a mystery for you, Amelia,’ said Walter. ‘I don’t believe you’ve had a murder this season; why not employ those detectival talents of yours on this poor chap?’
‘I doubt that even the talents of Ramses’ favourite fictional detectives could solve a case such as this,’ I replied in the same jesting tone. ‘So long ago as that –’
‘Ha,’ said Emerson. ‘I believe I once heard you say that no mystery is insoluble. It is simply a question of how much time and energy one is willing to expend, you said.’
‘I was engaging in a little braggadocio,’ I admitted. ‘However . . .’
‘Oh, you have a theory, have you?’
‘Not yet. How could I, when the evidence is incomplete?’ Emerson’s smile broadened. The challenge in those mocking blue eyes was impossible to resist; I went on, ‘What I intended to say, before you interrupted me, was that at this stage one cannot state that a solution may not be arrived at. One or two ideas have occurred to me.’
Observing that Ramses, who was never at a loss for ideas, was about to launch into a speech, Emerson said quickly, ‘The hour is late. Off to bed, eh? Not a word of this to anyone, mind you. If O’Connell gets wind of it he will drag out the old nonsense about curses, and I don’t trust Miss Marmaduke to resist his confounded charm.’
‘So you find Mr O’Connell charming, do you?’ I inquired, as we left the saloon.
‘Not at all,’ said Emerson coldly. ‘I was referring to his effect on susceptible females, which I have had occasion to observe.’
Emerson’s temper was sorely tried over the following days, for the Mirror arrived on schedule and The Times soon followed, and Cook’s added us to their itinerary (‘steamers twice weekly during the height of the season’). Emerson’s face when he first beheld the troop of donkey-mounted tourists thundering down on us was a remarkable sight. The timider souls retreated at his first bellow, but some were remarkably persistent and did not go away until he charged them brandishing a plank.
Not only were we besieged by journalists and tourists, but the archaeological onslaught Emerson had predicted also occurred. The first to arrive was Cyrus Vandergelt, our wealthy American friend. Quibell and Newberry ‘dropped in,’ Howard Carter spent as much time with us as he could spare from his other duties, and we were even honoured by a brief visit from M. Maspero, despite Emerson’s efforts to head him off.
The only ones of our friends who did not turn up were the Reverend Sayce, who, I was sorry to hear, was suffering from an attack of rheumatics (Emerson was not sorry to hear it), and Mr Petrie. The Petries were at Abydos that year, which made their failure to come even more surprising. Howard attributed it to Petrie’s compulsive work habits. Emerson attributed it to spite and jealousy.
‘At least,’ he remarked sourly, ‘we need not fear interruption by the local thieves. They couldn’t get near the place without tripping over a journalist or an archaeologist.’
There had indeed been a singular lack of interest on the part of our known and unknown enemies. We had heard nothing more from Riccetti; night succeeded peaceful night at the tomb and on the dahabeeyah. This was, in my opinion, an ominous sign, but Emerson absolutely refused to agree with me (or to discuss the matter at all). How true it is that there are none so blind as those who will not see! I must share some small part of the blame. Our work absorbed me. I became complacent and careless. And in due course of time I paid a terrible price for that complacency.
Yet what Egyptologist could resist the allure of that tomb! The painted reliefs were remarkable, the colours scarcely faded, the outlines sure and crisp. Emerson and Walter spent a good deal of time arguing about the historical implications of these scenes and the translations of the hieroglyphic inscriptions, but I will spare the uninformed Reader further details. (The Reader who wishes to be informed will find those details in our forthcoming publication, The Tomb of Tetisheri at Thebes; four volumes, and a fifth, folio-size,