The Serpent on the Crown - Elizabeth Peters [45]
“You have learned the name of the dealer who sold the statue to Mr. Petherick?” I asked.
“You have located Sethos?” Nefret inquired.
Emerson waved both questions aside. “Better than that, better than that. But where is Ramses? I want to tell him the great news myself.”
Fatima bustled out with a tray of coffee and cakes. She was followed by Ramses. “I was working,” he said. “But I heard you coming.”
“Most of the West Bank heard him,” I remarked. “Very well, Emerson, don’t keep us in suspense. What is your great news?”
Emerson gulped down his coffee and held out the cup for a refill. “Ah, just what I needed. Thank you, Fatima. No one makes better—”
“Emerson,” I said loudly.
“KV55,” said Emerson,
“Davis’s tomb? What about it?”
“I have Lacau’s permission to reexcavate it!”
His grin faded as he looked from one blank face to the next.
“The dam——The confounded tomb is empty, Emerson,” I said.
“You don’t know that,” Emerson said. “Davis’s excavation was careless in the extreme. Lord only knows what he missed. Good Gad, Peabody, you don’t seem to grasp the possibilities.”
Ramses cleared his throat. “I believe I grasp some of them, sir.”
“That’s better,” Emerson said approvingly. He took out his pipe. “Well, my boy?”
“You wanted an excuse to work in the Valley. That’s why you were so pleased when you found the newspaper fragment—it was evidence that someone had been there recently—and when you caught Deib and Aguil in the act of digging. What I don’t understand is what you hope to accomplish. Everyone agrees there are no more royal tombs in the East Valley.”
“My dear boy, I have no expectation of being allowed to begin new excavations in the Valley of the Kings,” Emerson said. “Carter and Carnarvon hold the firman, and I would never behave in an underhanded manner toward another archaeologist.”
“Certainly not, sir,” said Ramses, his tilted eyebrows contradicting his words.
“Hmph,” said Emerson. “The statuette must have come originally from a royal tomb. An Amarna period tomb, since the artistic style is of that period. We know of three that immediately postdate Akhenaton—KV55 and those of Horemheb, in the East Valley, and Ay, in the West Valley. None of them has been properly investigated. Horemheb’s was another of Davis’s botched excavations; several objects from the tomb have been floating round the antiquities markets for years.”
He paused to light his pipe and I exclaimed, “For pity’s sake, Emerson, don’t tell me you want to reexcavate that infernal tomb of Horemheb. It’s one of the longest in the Valley. Ramses is right, and Cyrus was right; you are tired of Deir el Medina and want an excuse to work, in however limited a manner, in the Valley of the Kings. You cherish the delusion that once you get a foothold there it will be difficult to get you out. I am astonished at you. A conscientious excavator, which I had supposed you to be, does not abandon a project in the middle of the season.”
Emerson gestured with the pipe. “Don’t lecture me, Peabody. I have it all worked out, you will see.”
“Oh, really? Do you also have the Petherick matter all worked out? I was under the obviously erroneous impression that you went to Cairo to pursue our investigation. Are you aware of what has happened here since you left?”
“Certainly,” said Emerson, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “The Cairo newspapers were full of the stories. I am deeply hurt by your criticism, Peabody. If you insist upon a full report of my activities—”
“I do not insist, Emerson. I request. Strongly.”
“Hmph,” said Emerson. “Very well. I called upon the most reputable of the antiquities dealers in Cairo. All denied knowledge of the statuette. Which doesn’t mean a curse in itself, but their avid curiosity was indicative of innocence. I sent cables to a number of people, including Howard Carter, who have been known to handle antiquities for Petherick. I cabled Gargery and told him to go up to London and investigate the status and contents of Petherick’s will—”
“Gargery!” I exclaimed.