The Snake, the Crocodile, and the Dog - Elizabeth Peters [158]
The ensuing discussion was most animated, and the conclusions we reached were unanimous. My chagrin at having overlooked such an obvious culprit was great; but it was I, dear Mama and Papa, who proposed the scheme.
“Let her find what she wants,” I exclaimed. “Let her leave us, taking it with her, and without the slightest suspicion that we know her purpose.”
Aunt Evelyn and Rose acclaimed this idea with such flattering praise that I was overcome with embarrassment. Even more flattering was their assumption that I would be able to produce a reasonable facsimile of the document in question; for, as you know, dear Mama and Papa, the original is in Papa’s… [the last two words had been crossed out] … is elsewhere.
I got to work at once. (Forgery is a fascinating hobby. I have added it to my list of useful skills to be honed with practice.) Feeling that verisimilitude was vital in this case, I used a sheet from one of Papa’s notebooks. (The one on the Dahshoor excavation, which I had brought along in order to study his reconstruction of the pyramid temple. There are several points I would like to raise with him at a future time.) But to resume: I had to age the paper properly, of course; this required some experimentation before I arrived at the solution of baking the paper in the oven after fraying the edges and sprinkling it with water. I then traced a copy of the map, whose outlines I had good cause to remember, on another sheet from the notebook, and repeated the process. The result was most satisfactory. I need not tell you, dear parents, that the compass readings I wrote were not the ones on the original. I made a few other alterations as well.
The next question was: Where to conceal the document? The library seemed the most likely place, but we agreed it would be expedient to direct Ellis’s attention to the precise spot.
Without Rose’s enthusiastic cooperation and remarkable thespian talents the scheme would never have succeeded. The library is, it appears, another of those regions into which Ellis has no reason to go. (I expect you were aware of this, Mama; I was not, and I found the definitions of comparative duties and relative social status dependent thereon quite interesting.) Mary Ann, Aunt Evelyn’s parlormaid, is responsible for that room. It was necessary, therefore, to remove Mary Ann, for she has not the sort of temperament that lends itself to deception, and also we felt the fewer people who knew of our intentions, the better.
I had time, before I turned the page, to hope poor Mary Ann had not been removed too forcibly. She was a gentle gray-haired woman who had never done any harm.
The incident of the lion had reduced to shreds, as Mary Ann put it, nerves already frazzled by other events, so it was not difficult to persuade her to take a few days’ holiday. (It is not difficult to persuade Mary Ann to do anything.) As soon as she left for the station, Rose fell down the back stairs and sprained her ankle. (She really did not sprain it, Mama and Papa, but the performance she put on was remarkably convincing.) That meant that Ellis had to be pressed into service to carry out some of the duties properly belonging to Mary Ann and Rose.
The amiability with which she agreed to take on the task of tidying the library was the final proof of her villainy. According to Rose and Aunt Evelyn, a proper lady’s maid would have given notice rather than accept a demeaning task. (Fascinating, is it not? I had no idea such undemocratic attitudes permeate the servants’ hall.)
Two more details were necessary: to get Uncle Walter out of the library while Ellis was searching it, and to give her a broad hint as to where to look. Aunt Evelyn assured us she could manage the first difficulty. (They were gone the whole afternoon. I do not know what they were doing.) I took it upon myself to arrange the second matter. I daresay my performance would not have convinced Mama, but Ellis is not very intelligent. I allowed her to catch me in the act of reading