The Mummy Case - Elizabeth Peters [69]
“It is the other way around, I fancy.”
“I escape,” the baroness said loudly. “I run away. Tell them I can see no one.” But in stepping forward she tripped on her flounces and fell in a disheveled heap upon the couch. Brother Ezekiel pounced on her before she could rise. Fumbling in the pile of agitated ruffles, he pulled out a hand, which he seized firmly in his big hairy fists.
“Dear sister, I rejoice that you are not harmed. Let us bow our heads and thank God for this merciful escape. Heavenly Father, let the weight of your wrath fall on the villains who have perpetrated this deed; mash ’em flat to the dust, O Lord, lay ’em low as you did the Amalekites and the Jebusites and the…”
The polysyllabic catalog rolled on. “Good morning, Brother David,” I said. “I am glad you are here; I can leave the baroness to you.”
“You can indeed,” David assured me, his mild blue eyes beaming. “The tender and womanly compassion that is so peculiarly your own does you credit, Mrs. Emerson, but there is no need for you to remain.”
The baroness lay quite still. I could see her face; her eyes were closed and she appeared to be asleep, though how she could have slept through Brother Ezekiel’s voice I cannot imagine. “…and the kings of Midian, namely Evi and Rekem and Zur and Hur…”
I found Emerson surrounded by the servants and the members of the crew. He was haranguing them in Arabic, to which they listened with fascinated attention. Arabs do love a skilled orator. Seeing me, he concluded his speech. “You know me, my brothers; you know I do not lie, and that I protect all honest men. Think well on what I have said.”
“What did you say?” I inquired as we walked away, followed by the respectful farewells of the audience: “Allah preserve thee; the mercy and blessing of Allah be with thee.”
“Oh, the usual thing, Peabody. I don’t believe any of the men were directly involved in the robbery, but they must have been bribed to remain silent. An object the size of that mummy case could not have been removed from the salon without waking someone.”
“Bribed—or intimidated? I sense the sinister shadow of the Master Criminal, Emerson. How far his evil web must stretch!”
“I warn you, Peabody, I will not be responsible if you go on talking of webs and shadows and Master Criminals. This is a case of sordid, commonplace thievery. It can have no connection—”
“Like a giant spider weaving his tangled strands into a net that snares rich and poor, guilty and innocent—”
Emerson leaped onto his donkey and urged it into a trot.
We had left the cultivation far behind before his countenance regained its customary placidity. I refrained from further discussion, knowing that sooner or later he would acknowledge the accuracy of my analysis. Sure enough, it was not long before he remarked musingly, “All the same, the case has one or two curious features. Why should thieves go to so much trouble to make off with an ordinary Romano-Egyptian mummy case? It was that of a commoner; there could be no expectation of finding jewelry or valuable amulets among the wrappings.”
“What of the other objects that were taken?” I asked.
“That is what makes the situation even more curious, Peabody. Two other things were taken—the scarab and the statuette. They were the most valuable objects in the collection. The statuette was particularly fine, late Eighteenth Dynasty, if I am not mistaken. One might suppose that the thief was an expert in his unsavory trade, since he knew the valuable from the valueless. Yet there were other items, small and easily portable, that might have fetched a decent price, and the thieves left them in order to expend enormous effort on removing a worthless mummy case.”
“You have forgotten to mention one item that was taken,” I said. “Or perhaps you did not observe it was missing.”
“What are you talking about, Peabody? I missed nothing.”
“Yes, Emerson, you did.”
“No, Peabody, I did not.”
“The lion cub, Emerson. The cage was empty.”
Emerson’s hands released their grip on the reins. His donkey came to a halt. I reined up beside him.
“Empty,