The Hippopotamus Pool - Elizabeth Peters [50]
My well-known sense of humour conquered my annoyance, for really, it was an amusing idea – that Emerson would force his attentions on me (or that Abdullah would disapprove if he did). Physical resistance would have been undignified, so I yielded to his embrace.
‘Where are we going?’ I demanded.
‘To the antiquities shop of Ali Murad.’
‘You have made an appointment?’
‘Certainly not. We will drop down on him like a pair of thunderbolts.’
‘An apt image,’ I agreed. ‘What are you hoping to find, Emerson?’
‘Well, now.’ Emerson released me and took out his pipe. He had given up any pretence of whispering – it is not something he is very good at anyhow – and I noticed that Abdullah was leaning in our direction, listening as hard as he could. So he too was in the dark as to Emerson’s real purpose.
‘One of the local thieves has found that tomb, Peabody,’ Emerson said. ‘It is the only possible explanation for recent events. The ring our midnight visitor showed us must have come from Tetisheri’s burial, unless you are credulous enough to believe it has been handed down from generation to generation since the second millennium before Christ. If thieves are at work in the tomb, other objects must have been taken too. They would end up in the antiquities markets in Luxor.’
‘That is why you went to see Abd el Hamed in Gurneh!’
‘Precisely. He is related to every tomb robber in the village. They bring their stolen goods to him and he passes them on to the antiquities dealers. I meant to drop in on him without warning and have a look round, but by the time we finished dealing with the boy, the element of surprise had been lost.’
He paused to swear. He was having trouble getting his pipe lit in the stiff breeze.
‘It is a logical theory,’ I admitted. ‘But I see one difficulty, Emerson. No – two. If the tomb has been located, it will soon be too late, if it is not already too late, to save it. The Gurnawis are master thieves. And – my second point – if Mr Shelmadine was involved with the people who found the tomb, why would he offer to show it to us?’
Emerson gave up trying to light his pipe. Stuffing it into his pocket he replied, ‘Your viewpoint is unduly pessimistic, Peabody. At the very worst we can locate the tomb itself, and it is unlikely that the contents have been completely removed. The local thieves of Gurneh do not – cannot – work with the efficiency and openness of a legitimate archaeological team; not only must they operate in secret, but they dare not flood the market with objects whose source would eventually be questioned. Remember the Abd er Rasul brothers. They had been taking papyri and ushebtis from the royal mummy cache for almost ten years before they were caught, and there was still a good deal left.’
‘Yes,’ I breathed, my imagination fired. ‘But my second point –’
‘I knew you were going to bring that up,’ Emerson said. ‘Leave it for the moment, Peabody; we have arrived.’
Declining the offer of a carriage, we set out on foot. There were a good many people still abroad, for visitors preferred to rest during the heat of the afternoon and resume activities after the temperature had dropped, and during Ramadan the shops remained open long into the night. Ali Murad’s house, which was also his place of business, was near the temple of Karnak. One of his employees stood outside the open door, inviting passersby to enter by catching hold of their sleeves and tugging at them. When he recognized Emerson his eyes opened very wide and he darted towards the door.
‘No need to announce us,’ Emerson said genially, intercepting the fellow and ushering me in. ‘Ah, there you are, Ali Murad. I trust business is good?’
It appeared to be excellent. There were half a dozen customers in the small room and Murad himself was in obsequious attendance upon the most prosperous-looking pair – Americans, I deduced, from their peculiar accents.
Ali Murad was a Turk, with great curling mustaches; a red fez perched on his head and rings covered his hands. His control was better than that of his hireling; only