The Serpent on the Crown - Elizabeth Peters [96]
“That’s a rather negative approach, isn’t it? Your failure to find evidence doesn’t mean the statue wasn’t there.”
“Right,” Ramses said. She was as quick as she was forceful, and she was looking almost feminine that morning, her thick hair rolled back under the broad-brimmed hat which was tied under her chin with a jaunty bow. He went on, “However, it’s the only approach open to us at this time. We’ve learned the name of the dealer from whom your father bought the statue—”
“How?” The word was as sharp as a shout.
“From Montague. He came to us first, trying to purchase the statue.”
“That won’t do him any good, will it, so long as your father sticks to his promise.”
“You may rest assured that my father will do precisely that.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you.” She put a propitiatory hand on his arm. It was a strong, capable-looking hand, with a broad palm and long fingers. “Professor Emerson’s reputation is of the highest. I understand why Mrs. Petherick went to him.”
“Thank you.” The sun was hot and he wanted to get home and wash. He was about to make his excuses when Nefret addressed him.
“Adrian would like to see the tomb.”
Ramses scowled at his beloved wife. “I don’t think—”
“We can spare a few more minutes,” Nefret said. “Can’t we?”
“I’d really appreciate it,” Adrian said. “This is my first trip to Egypt, you see, and I am trying to understand why my father was so keen on the country and its antiquities.” His eyes fell. “I wish I had taken a greater interest while he lived. It would have pleased him so much.”
Ramses looked to Harriet Petherick for help but got only a shrug and a cynical half-smile. It would have been heartless to reject that appeal, even though Adrian’s interest was born of guilt, and Pringle Petherick probably wouldn’t have given a damn whether his children shared his interests.
“All right,” he said. “Just for a few minutes. Hassan, will you please lower the ladder? I’ll go down first.”
Adrian had no difficulty negotiating the ladder. Harriet swung herself neatly onto the topmost rung and descended as easily as her brother had.
“Adrian, watch where you step,” Ramses said. “Miss Petherick, take my hand, please.”
Dust motes swam in the ray of sunlight that angled off one of the mirrors used for lighting. They had lost a good deal of their effectiveness, as the sun had moved since they were last adjusted. Ramses switched on his torch.
“Aren’t these mirrors rather an old-fashioned method of illumination?” Harriet Petherick asked.
She’d caught on to the idea immediately. Showing off her intelligence? Ramses wondered. Or admitting to a greater knowledge than her expressed disinterest in Egyptology had implied? If it was an admission, it was deliberate. This was not a woman who made careless mistakes.
Adrian had to have the method explained. “Jolly clever,” he exclaimed. “But why not torches or electricity?”
“Torches burn out too quickly and don’t give an even light,” Ramses explained. “It’s hard to get permission to run an electric line. This works well enough.”
He stopped them on the edge of the three-foot drop into the burial chamber. “This is as far as we go. There’s not much to see, really.”
“Not like some of the other tombs we saw this morning.” Adrian sounded disappointed. “Why aren’t you digging in places like that?”
Ramses patiently explained again why they were here. Adrian lost interest; he preceded them up the sloping passageway.
“Look here, Miss Petherick,” Ramses said softly but urgently. “If you know anything about the statue that you haven’t told us, I strongly advise you to do so. Holding back information will only damage you and your brother.”
A pebble slipped under her feet; she caught more tightly at his hand. “Can I trust you?”
“To do my best for you and Adrian, yes. I believe in his innocence.”
“A carefully equivocal statement,” she said mockingly. “So you wouldn’t lie for us?”
“No. But I hope I won’t have to. He’s not entirely responsible for his actions. Though he seems much