The Serpent on the Crown - Elizabeth Peters [111]
Emerson’s cheerful frame of mind dissipated when he saw Mr. Katchenovsky on the veranda playing with the children. The game seemed to involve feeding one another pieces of biscuit. “I’m tired of having that fellow hanging about,” he complained. “Why is he here every day?”
“Not so loud,” I protested. “He will hear you. Taking tea with us is part of his agreement with Ramses, as you know perfectly well. Good afternoon, Mr. Katchenovsky. I trust you had a productive day?”
Katchenovsky was unable to reply, since Carla had shoved an entire biscuit into his mouth. Ramses answered for him. “Very productive. We’ve got most of the fragments flattened and dried, and have begun a preliminary catalog. Several look particularly interesting.”
“Ramses has a remarkable memory,” said Katchenovsky, after a strenuous swallow. “I believe he could recite a full list of the fragments.”
“It’s a matter of practice,” Ramses said modestly.
“It’s a matter of a peculiar mental quirk,” Nefret said with a smile. “At one time he could take one look at a room and recall every object in it. Carla, don’t keep pushing food into poor Mr. Katchenovsky’s mouth, you will choke him.”
“He winned,” Carla explained. “We do the paper, stone, knife, with our fingers, and the one who wins gets the biscuit.”
“Won,” I said absently. “Not ‘winned.’”
“Are you going to pour the tea, Peabody?” Emerson demanded. “What are you waiting for?”
“Fatima hasn’t brought the teapot yet, that is why. I expect she is waiting for your—for Seth—for Anthony.”
“He came in a while ago,” Ramses said. “And went to bathe and change.”
Fatima emerged with the teapot. “He comes,” she announced dramatically.
She had even trained Kareem to fling open the door so that Sethos could make his entrance without breaking stride.
“I hope I haven’t held you up,” he said, with a royal nod at Kareem.
“Pour the tea,” said Emerson, to me.
“So what is the news?” I said, to Sethos.
His gesture indicated the children, who had gathered round him and were simultaneously explaining the new game. “Ah,” said Sethos. “I believe I will have to consider my strategy before I enter into contention. Practice on Mr. Katchenovsky awhile longer, eh?”
“Something is wrong,” I said softly.
“There has been a new development,” Sethos said in equally subdued tones. “The Pethericks have left Luxor. They caught the late-night train to Cairo.”
“Good Gad,” Emerson exclaimed.
“I cannot say I am surprised,” I said, pouring tea.
“You wouldn’t, would you,” Emerson growled. “Come now, Peabody, not even you could have anticipated this.”
“I did not say I had anticipated it. I said I was not surprised, not after hearing Ramses’s account of his interview with Harriet.”
“I said nothing to bring this on,” Ramses protested. “Quite the contrary. I did my best to reassure her.”
“She was beyond reassurance, I believe,” I said. “What a foolish act! The police will take flight for a sign of guilt. How did Adrian and Harriet elude them? Surely Mr. Salt had been told to inform Ayyid if they checked out of their rooms.”
“They didn’t. They simply walked out of the hotel and went straight to the train station. They had each a single small suitcase. It’s taken me all day to find this out,” Sethos added petulantly. “And for Ayyid to get permission to alert the police in Cairo. The train isn’t due until this evening.”
“They won’t be on it,” Ramses said. He was sitting quite still, his cup in his hand.
“Why do you say that?” Nefret asked.
“Because Harriet Petherick knows the police will be on her trail and that they can’t possibly leave Egypt without being intercepted. God knows what she has in mind, but I don’t like this development. Adrian isn’t…dependable.”
“You surely don’t believe he is capable of harming her?” I exclaimed.
“I’m afraid he might