The Snake, the Crocodile, and the Dog - Elizabeth Peters [24]
“What about Meidum?” the Reverend Sayce suggested. “The pyramid has never been completely cleared, and there are certainly more mastabas in the cemeteries around it.”
“Or Amarna,” said Mr. Newberry. “You worked there some years ago, I believe.”
A thrill of emotion ran through me. Pyramids are my passion, as Emerson quaintly puts it, but the name of Amarna will always hold a special place in my heart, for it was there Emerson and I came to know and appreciate one another. I glanced meaningfully at my husband. He was looking meaningfully at Mr. Newberry, and I knew, from the glint in his eye, that he was about to say something provocative.
“Yes, we did, and I am giving the site serious consideration. It is of great importance, for it offers clues to one of the most confusing periods in Egyptian history. The archaeological remains have gone to rack and ruin since we left; no one has done a cursed thing—”
“Now, Emerson, you exaggerate,” I said quickly. “Mr. Newberry was there, and Mr. Petrie was there—”
“For one year. Typical of Petrie.” Emerson abandoned his fish. Leaning back in his chair, he prepared to enjoy himself by goading his friends. “I believe you also dropped in for a brief visit, Sayce.”
The Reverend Sayce was, I am sorry to say, one of Emerson’s favorite victims. A pinched, meager little man, he was regarded by many as an excellent scholar, though he had no formal training and never published anything. This failure would have been enough to inspire Emeron’s contempt, and the reverend’s religious convictions, of which Emerson had none, irritated him equally as much.
“I was with M. Daressy in ‘91,” Sayce replied guardedly.
“When he found the remains of Akhenaton?” Emerson’s lips stretched into the expression one may see on the face of a dog just before it sinks its teeth into one’s hand. “I read about that incredible discovery and was surprised that it was not given greater prominence. Did you actually see the mummy? Daressy mentions only scraps of mummy wrappings.”
“There was a body, or the remains of one,” Sayce said warily. He had seen that smile on Emerson’s face before.
“You examined it, of course.”
Sayce flushed. “It was in wretched condition. Burned, torn to bits—”
“Very distasteful,” Emerson agreed gravely. “What became of it?”
“It is in the museum, I suppose.”
“No, it is not. I have examined the Journal d’Entrée. There is no mention of it.”
“I hope, Professor, you are not implying that my eyesight or my memory are deficient. I saw that mummy!”
“I am sure you did. I saw it myself, seven years earlier.” Emerson looked at me. He was enjoying himself so much I had not the heart to reproach him. I decided a little friendly teasing would not do the reverend any harm. “We didn’t bother looking for the cursed thing, did we, Peabody, after it was stolen from us? The villagers must have dumped it near the royal tomb after taking it apart looking for amulets. No loss; it was only another tedious late mummy, that of some poor commoner.”
Newberry was trying to hide his smile. We had not included the extraneous mummy in our publication report, since it had nothing to do with the history of the site, but many of our friends knew of our strange encounter with it. Carter, less tactful, exclaimed, “Good heavens! I had forgotten about your peripatetic mummy, Professor. Do you think it was the one Daressy found?”
“I am certain of it,” Emerson replied calmly. “None of the fools who examined it—excuse me, Sayce, I do not include you, of course—had the sense to see that it was of the wrong period. No doubt someone pointed this out to Daressy later, and he simply disposed of the embarrassing evidence and kept