The Hippopotamus Pool - Elizabeth Peters [99]
‘Is it a secret society, Amelia?’ Evelyn inquired hopefully.
‘I am afraid not, my dear. It is a perfectly harmless if fuzzy-minded blend of Indian philosophy and occultism. Dear me, what a disappointment. Perhaps Miss Marmaduke is innocent after all – of everything except gullibility.’
‘Are you satisfied, Amelia?’ Evelyn asked uneasily. ‘They will be returning shortly, and it would be very embarrassing to be caught.’
‘My dear, we will have ample warning. Emerson’s ordinary speaking voice is audible at a considerable distance, not to mention the shouts that will probably herald his arrival.’
Knowing this to be true I was not at all worried about being caught red-handed, and I completed the search without haste and without result.
‘Curse it,’ I exclaimed. ‘She must be guilty; no innocent person can lead a life so free of harmless vice! No love letters, no bottles of liquor, not even a hidden box of chocolates. But I suppose some would consider a belief in the occult to be a vice, of an intellectual nature at least.’
I subjected the room to an intense visual survey. I had overlooked nothing; every inch had been inspected. Except . . .
I snatched up the pair of boots that stood at the foot of the bed, turned them upside down and shook them vigorously. Had it not been for the shaking, the little cardboard box would have gone undiscovered. It had been wedged into the narrowest part of the toe.
I untied the string and removed the top. Cotton wool filled the box and told me I must proceed gently; a gleam of gold gave me a premonition of what I would find. It was the ring I had first seen on the finger of Mr Shelmadine – the jewel bearing the cartouche of Queen Tetisheri, which had disappeared from our sitting room on the night he vanished from mortal ken.
After luncheon, which was served on the upper deck, we dispersed. Emerson, of course, went back to the tomb, taking Sir Edward and the children with him. Since Gertrude had finished her packing, I accompanied her and the younger Emersons across to Luxor so that the exchange of accommodations could be made and some necessary shopping completed.
There had been no opportunity for Evelyn and me to discuss the astonishing discovery of the ring. Warned by Emerson’s hail, we had barely time to conceal the evidences of our visit and beat a hasty retreat. When Gertrude joined us on the deck she had changed her clothing and was wearing the boots. If she had noticed anything amiss she showed no signs of it. I wondered what she had done with the ring. She could not be wearing it on a chain around her neck; I would have observed the bulge.
When we reached the hotel I went with her to her room to study the arrangements, in case I wanted, on some future occasion, to drop in uninvited. It was quite satisfactory – on the second floor, with a small balcony and a most convenient vine not far from it.
Gertrude was kind enough to approve of the accommodations, but seemed reluctant to let me go.
‘Don’t you want me to return with you and resume the children’s lessons? It has been almost a week since –’
‘They will not be in a fit state of mind to concentrate on English literature this evening,’ I said impatiently. ‘Discipline is one thing, Gertrude, unreasonable expectation is quite another. I will send someone to fetch you tomorrow morning, or perhaps you could accompany Sir Edward. That would probably be best. He will notify you of the time and place when he returns this evening.’
She looked as if she would have objected, though I could not imagine to what – being forced to share a boat, unchaperoned, with a personable young man? Bidding her good afternoon, I left.
Shopping took hardly any time, since the shops of Luxor offer little to the traveller except antiquities, spurious and genuine. The most sensible course of action would have been for Walter