The Mummy Case - Elizabeth Peters [9]
“Oh, Emerson!” I clasped my hands. In my enthusiasm I overlooked the fact that I was holding a tomato sandwich. Wiping the fragments from my hands, I went on in mounting rapture, “Pyramids! Have you found us a pyramid?”
“Not one, but five,” Emerson replied, his sapphire orbs reflecting my delight. “Dahshoor, Peabody—the pyramid field of Dahshoor—that is where I mean to dig. I intended it as a treat for you, my dear.”
“You mean to dig,” I repeated, my first enthusiasm fading. “Do you have the firman for Dahshoor?”
“You know I never apply to the Department of Antiquities beforehand, my love. If certain other archaeologists learned where I wanted to excavate they would also apply, out of pure spite. I don’t mention names, but you know whom I mean.”
I waved this unwarranted slur upon Mr. Petrie aside. “But, Emerson, M. de Morgan dug at Dahshoor last spring. As head of the Department of Antiquities he has first choice; what makes you suppose he will yield the site to you?”
“I understand that M. de Morgan is more reasonable than his predecessor,” said Walter, the peacemaker. “Grebaut was an unfortunate choice for the position.”
“Grebaut was an idiot,” Emerson agreed. “But he never interfered with me.”
“He was terrified of you,” I exclaimed. “I recall at least one occasion upon which you threatened to murder him. De Morgan may not be so timid.”
“I cannot imagine where you get such ideas,” Emerson said in mild surprise. “I am a particularly even-tempered man, and to suggest that I would threaten the Director General of the Department of Antiquities with physical violence—even if he was the most consummate fool in the entire universe—really, Amelia, you astonish me.”
“Never mind,” said Walter, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Let us hope there will be no violence of any kind this season. Especially murder!”
“I certainly hope not,” said Emerson. “These distractions interfere with one’s work. Amelia suffers from the delusion, derived I know not whence, that she has talents as a criminal investigator—”
“I, at least, have cause to thank her for those talents,” said my dear Evelyn quietly. “You cannot blame Amelia, Radcliffe; I was the unwitting cause of your first encounter with crime.”
“And,” Walter added, “on the second occasion you were the guilty party, Radcliffe—taking on the direction of an expedition plagued with mysterious disappearances and ancient curses.”
“She tricked me into it,” Emerson grumbled, glancing at me.
“I don’t know what you are complaining about,” I retorted. “It was a most interesting experience, and we made some valuable discoveries that season in the Valley of the Kings.”
“But you were wrong about de identification of de tomb,” said Ramses, turning to his father. “I am of de opinion dat Tutankhamon’s sepulcher is yet to be discovered.”
Seeing that an argument was about to ensure—for Emerson brooks criticism of his Egyptological expertise from no one, not even his son—Walter hastened to change the subject.
“Radcliffe, have you heard anything more about the recent flood of illegal antiquities? Rumor has it that some remarkably fine objects have appeared on the market, including jewelry. Can it be that the tomb robbers of Thebes have found another cache of royal mummies?”
“Your uncle is referring to the cave at Deir el Bahri,” Emerson explained to Ramses. “It contained mummies of royal persons hidden by devout priests after the original tombs had been robbed.”
“T’ank you, Papa, but I am fully acquainted wit’ de details of dat remarkable discovery. De cache was found by de tomb robbers of Gurneh near Thebes, who marketed de objects found on de mummies, enabling de den Head of de Antiquities Department, M. Maspero, to track dem down and locate de cleft in de cliffs where de—”
“Enough, Ramses,” I said.
“Hmph,” said Emerson. “To answer your question, Walter—it is possible that the objects you refer to come from such a collection of royal mummies. However, from what I have heard, they range widely in date; the most remarkable is a Twelfth Dynasty pectoral ornament in