The Serpent on the Crown - Elizabeth Peters [48]
“Horrible,” I said energetically. “Torture should not be permitted under any circumstances. It is to the credit of Britain that we have put a stop to that sort of thing.”
“To make a long story short,” Sethos said, with a polite nod at me, “modern tomb robbers have to go about their business in secret. Odds and ends, such as the bits of jewelry taken from KV55, don’t bother the authorities that much; they can’t possibly keep track of all of them. Major discoveries, however, have to be marketed with care so they can’t be traced back to the original perpetrators. Some dealers will sit on important pieces for years, while carrying on secret negotiations with various museums and collectors.”
“Carter,” Emerson growled.
“He and others. Carter is a go-between, a dealer. He buys for his patron, Lord Carnarvon, and for institutions like the Metropolitan Museum. So you see,” Sethos concluded, “the existence of this statuette has probably been known for years. The fact that it escaped my attention causes me, I confess, a certain embarrassment. I can only attribute it to the fact that I have been busy with other matters since1914.”
“Are you suggesting that it wasn’t found until after that time?” Ramses asked.
“I’m not suggesting anything of the sort,” Sethos said. “Even I have lapses occasionally.”
“If it was ever in KV55,” said Emerson, “some trace of its presence may yet remain. The missing uraeus serpent, for example, or scraps of a pedestal. Many wooden objects were waterlogged and decaying. Davis would have kicked the scraps aside. We must eliminate KV55 before we consider other possibilities.”
I had listened in growing impatience to this discussion, in which, I was sorry to see, Ramses had allowed himself to become interested. “If I may say so,” I remarked, “archaeological fever is distracting you from more important matters. Are you aware that Mrs. Petherick has mysteriously disappeared? And that there have been two attempted robberies here?”
“Bah,” said Emerson. “The intruder was probably a journalist.”
“Who also blew up the guardhouse?”
“Those bastards have no scruples. As for Mrs. Petherick, she’ll turn up before long with a harrowing tale of her escape from the afrit.” He took out his watch, let out an emphatic swearword, and jumped up. “All this time wasted! Ramses, Nefret, Peabody, get your gear together.”
“Where are we going?” Ramses asked. He knew the answer.
“Deir el Medina, of course. I told Wasim to send word to Selim to get the crew together.”
I settled myself more comfortably in my chair. “I must see to our guest, Emerson. Unlike you, he will wish to rest and refresh himself after that long dusty train ride. If you will wait an hour or two—”
“Bah,” said Emerson. “You will follow when you are damned good and ready, I suppose. You two, come with me.”
FROM MANUSCRIPT H
* * *
Emerson would have walked out of the house just as he was, had not his wife insisted he change out of his good suit and put on a hat. By the time Ramses and Nefret were ready, he was lying in wait for them. Emerson led the way with long strides, up the cliff behind Deir el Bahri and along the path the ancient workmen had taken, between their homes and the Valley of the Kings where they had excavated and decorated the royal tombs. Though this was the most direct path to the village, it was not as easy as the road that entered the valley from the north, but it was one of Emerson’s favorite “strolls.” Certain other members of the family did not share this viewpoint.
Sun rays seeped down into the narrow valley. At the north end, amid the ruins of earlier shrines, stood the Ptolemaic temple, the only structure that had survived relatively intact. In the village itself, mud-brick foundations and walls outlined the central street and the small houses on either side. It was not an imposing site. The dull gray-brown of the foundations was the same shade as the valley