The Snake, the Crocodile, and the Dog - Elizabeth Peters [159]
I take great pleasure in informing you, Mama and Papa, that our stratagem has succeeded. Ellis has gone, bag and baggage; and the false document has gone too.
Now, dear Mama and Papa, for the best part of the scheme. (Modesty prevents me from mentioning whose idea it was.) As soon as our plans had been worked out, we made use of that convenient apparatus, the telephone, to reach Inspector Cuff and explain the situation to him. He pretended not to be surprised. In fact he claimed he had been suspicious of Ellis all along, and that one of the reasons why he had gone to London was to investigate her antecedents. He assured us that Ellis would be followed from the moment she left the house.
We do not expect a report from the inspector for several days, but I am dispatching this at once so it will reach you as soon as possible; for I feel certain that with the document in their possession the unknown individuals who have behaved so unpleasantly will cease to trouble us with their attentions. Your devoted son, Ramses.
P.S. I am still of the opinion that my place is at your side, for you do seem, dearest parents, to attract dangerous persons. I have now seven pounds seven shillings.
It took me some time to recover from the full effect of this remarkable document. I attribute the confusion that seized me in part to my enfeebled condition, though the contents of the letter were enough to throw anyone into a state of bewildered agitation. What Emerson would say when he discovered his precious excavation notes had been vandalized for purposes of forgery I dared not imagine. Where Ramses had learned to pick locks—another “useful skill,” I suppose he would claim—I shuddered to contemplate. (Gargery? Inspector Cuff? Rose??) As for poor Walter, his nerves were probably as frazzled as those of the much-tried Mary Ann, though it was gratifying to learn that Evelyn and he were on such excellent terms.
I put these matters aside in order to concentrate on Ramses’s major piece of news. The picture of Rose, Evelyn, and Ramses conspiring to deceive a treacherous lady’s maid was so delicious I could almost forgive my wretched child for all his sins, except his ponderous literary style. However, a sobering thought soon intruded. The letter was dated ten days ago. Sethos must have learned of his confederate’s success before this; she would have telegraphed immediately, or at least so I supposed. Yet the attacks on us had not ceased. One, possibly two, had occurred after the news could have reached him.
The snake, the crododile and the dog… There were no other fates mentioned in the little story. Was he going to start all over again?
Perhaps it was the very absurdity of the notion that cleared my mind. Perhaps it was the hope that Ramses’s stratagem would be effective—that the news had not yet reached the Master Criminal. At any rate, I found myself wondering if the parallels with the Egyptian fairy tale were not something more than coincidence or supernatural influence. Could the imitation be deliberate? Had the mind that had conceived the complex plot been influenced by “The Tale of the Doomed Prince”?
A number of people had known I was studying that tale. Mr. Neville’s was the first name to come to mind, but he had mentioned it at the dinner table that evening in Cairo. Many of our friends had been present.
Had Sethos been among them?
The idea had a kind of insane attraction. That sinister master of disguise might well have been challenged by the prospect of playing the role of an individual as well known and distinctive in appearance as the Reverend Sayce, for example. I did not believe it, however. No one had greater respect for Sethos’s abilities than I, but there would be no need for him to take such a risk. He had secret allies and employees