The Serpent on the Crown - Elizabeth Peters [102]
I was baffled. But only for the moment. Something was bound to turn up.
Emerson sent the others down into the burial chamber and set me to work sifting debris. It was not an onerous task, since there was not much, and our people had already picked out the largest objects, such as they were, so I had ample opportunity to look about me. An hour or so later Emerson pulled himself out of the pit and addressed me.
“How are you, my dear?”
“Hot. Bored. Where are you off to?”
“A little stroll,” Emerson said.
“May I join you, Emerson?”
“Need you ask, Peabody?”
Emerson seldom strolls. On this occasion he actually sauntered, hands in his pockets, whistling off-key and looking interestedly from side to side like an ordinary tourist. From time to time he stopped and stared at nothing in particular that I could see. As I believe I have explained elsewhere, but will repeat for the sake of forgetful Readers, the East Valley is shaped like a maple or oak leaf, with lobes reaching out in all directions. They are not interconnected except at their base; each ends in rugged cliffs, so it is necessary to retrace one’s steps after one has explored each. Tomb entrances are everywhere, some blocked with steel gates, some open to visitors. We must have seen a dozen of them during that stroll: Ramses IX, Ramses VI, Amenmose, and others. Instead of entering them, Emerson spent an inordinate amount of time staring at their surroundings. At one point his well-shaped lips parted, and I waited breathlessly for a statement that would explain his actions.
“Workmen’s huts,” he said.
“So?” I asked, when it was apparent he had nothing to add.
“Interesting,” said Emerson.
“Not very.”
“Now, now, Peabody, keep an open mind. Everything is of interest to a trained excavator.”
The last area we visited was the side wadi in which the tomb of Thutmose III was located. Remembering our encounter with the ibn Simsahs, I moved closer to Emerson, but not a sight or sound disturbed the quiet of the place until Emerson spoke again.
“Might bear investigating,” he muttered, contemplating the pile of rubble in which he had dug.
“It won’t be investigated by you,” I replied somewhat tartly, for his enigmatic comments were beginning to get on my nerves, and I was extremely warm. “Lord Carnarvon holds the concession.”
“You need not remind me of that, Peabody. Well, shall we start back?”
The usual crowd of sightseers had gathered round KV55. Among them I saw Sir Malcolm’s head, crowned by a fashionable pith helmet. He stood a little distance away from the jostling crowd, eyeing them disdainfully. Seeing Emerson, he moved to intercept us and bade us good morning.
“What are you doing here?” Emerson demanded in his customary forthright manner.
“I believe the Valley of the Kings is open to all visitors, Professor.” Sir Malcolm snapped his fingers. A worried-looking dragoman hastened up and opened a sunshade over his head. “Observing an excavation in progress here is a rare treat.”
“Weren’t you present when Howard Carter was working across the way?” I asked.
“Yes. The fellow is competent enough,” Sir Malcolm conceded. “But all he turned up were some wretched workmen’s huts. Professor Emerson is in a class by himself. I would consider it a privilege to observe his procedures.”
The compliment mollified Emerson somewhat, but like myself he entertained doubts as to Sir Malcolm’s motives. “My procedures, sir, are surely known to an aficionado like yourself. This tomb contains nothing of interest.”
Hassan’s turbaned head appeared. “Emerson,” he called. “Will you come? We have found something.”
FROM MANUSCRIPT H
* * *
“A scrap of wood with a half-obliterated cartouche,” Emerson said disgustedly. He laid it on the table in front of Ramses. “But Hassan’s announcement got the whole mob in a twitter and there was a considerable amount of pushing and shoving. And that bastard Montague—”
“Now, now,” his wife said soothingly. “His interest was understandable. And he was very polite.”
“He’s changed his tactics,” Emerson declared. “But he’s still after the statuette.