The Hippopotamus Pool - Elizabeth Peters [132]
Evelyn shook her head. ‘I don’t see how we can possibly tell. The antiquities dealer in Luxor must be involved, but he could be in terror of either group; they appear to be equally unscrupulous. It is difficult for me to picture a gentleman like Sir Edward taking orders from a man like Riccetti –’
‘I have known several villains who were perfect gentlemen. And there are Europeans, English and Americans up to their necks in the illegal-antiquities game. Leave him in the list of uncertains. What about Miss Marmaduke?’
‘On the surface she is a perfect example of a certain type of English spinster,’ Evelyn said thoughtfully. ‘Too perfect, perhaps? I have had a number of conversations with her, and I cannot find a flaw in her performance. There is only one thing that gives me pause, and that is her – excessive, don’t you think? – interest in Nefret.’
‘Almost as if she knew some particular danger threatens the child,’ I agreed uneasily. ‘Yes, I do think it is excessive. She suggested more than once that Nefret would be safer in her care.’
‘She may be only superstitious and fanciful. A childless woman sometimes develops strong attachments to pretty young creatures in her care. Especially girls.’
‘Gertrude certainly has not shown any strong affection for Ramses,’ I agreed, laughing and yawning at once. ‘Emerson would say we are the ones who are fanciful, Evelyn. Our brilliant deductions are based on very tenuous evidence.’
‘It is up to us to procure additional evidence,’ Evelyn said. ‘But you are tired, Amelia; can you sleep now?’
‘Yes.’ It was not true, but she was also in need of rest and I knew she would sit with me all night if she felt I wanted her.
I left her at the door of her room, with a kiss and a fond good night; but after that door had closed I went to another chamber than my own. The sound of soft breathing and the sight of a slight form curled under the blankets should have been enough, but I did not leave the room until after I had bent over it and made certain the form was Nefret’s.
The conversation with Evelyn had brought into sharp focus fears that up till then I had tried to deny. In addition to the point she had mentioned – Gertrude’s unnatural concern – there was another, more alarming indication of danger to Nefret. Abd el Hamed’s excuses had been glib and reasonable, but the unpleasant fact remained: it was Nefret’s room the intruder had entered, and it was she whom his hands had seized.
I lay long awake, and it was not only fear for Emerson that kept Morpheus at bay.
We did not linger over breakfast next morning. Upon our arrival at the tomb I hastened at once to mount the stairs; when I entered the antechamber I saw Emerson sitting on the floor, his head bowed and Abdullah bending over him.
‘Now what?’ I inquired, with admirable calm.
Emerson raised his head, displaying a countenance sicklier in hue than was its wont. ‘Good morning, my dear. I trust you slept well.’
‘Are you ill? Are you hurt?’
He pushed away my hands and those of Abdullah, and rose with all his old energy. ‘A passing queasiness, nothing more. I have just finished fixing the lid back over that mummy, and the stench was unpleasant.’
‘Did you have to do that?’ I demanded.
‘I should have waited for you to do it, I suppose,’ Emerson said mildly. The others filed into the room and he gave them an absentminded wave of greeting as he continued, ‘All right, Abdullah, let’s get the gruesome thing out of here. Send Daoud or Ali up to give me a hand. I could carry it myself, but I don’t want to joggle it.’
Abdullah folded his arms and did not budge. ‘I will be your hands, Emerson.’
Emerson stroked his chin and studied his reis thoughtfully. Then he smiled and gave the old man a clap on the shoulder. ‘Is it so? You and I then, Abdullah, as so often before. Peabody, just trot down, will you, and disperse the locals? One glimpse of a coffin being carried out of here and they will spread the word. The rest of you clear out, you will