Tomb of the Golden Bird - Elizabeth Peters [130]
While Emerson brooded over the images of Maat on the entrance jambs, David and Ramses started walking back along the path. “It’s quite a distance,” David said somewhat wistfully. “Perhaps I’ll be able to get a look at some of the objects while they are being transported here.”
Ramses mentally damned Carter and Carnarvon. By rights he ought to have spared a few damns for his father as well; if Emerson hadn’t lost his temper they might not have been banned from the tomb. But it wasn’t fair to David, or to Cyrus, come to that, to hold them guilty by association with the Emersons. I wonder, he thought, if there is a way I could…
Turning back to the tomb, they were joined by Sethos. “I saw Margaret heading from this direction,” he said casually. “Has anything occurred?”
“Not really,” Ramses said. “Where were you?”
“Lurking.” Sethos blew his nose.
“Caught cold, have you?” Emerson inquired.
“Something lingering. But I do not anticipate boiling oil.”
So he had been close enough to overhear the quotation (from The Mikado, if Ramses remembered correctly).
“You decided not to confront Margaret?” Ramses asked. He added softly, “Coward.”
Sethos pretended not to hear him. “Anything interesting about this tomb?” he asked Emerson.
“Nothing that would interest you,” said Emerson pointedly.
“Before long this uninspiring sepulchre will contain a great deal to interest a thief,” Sethos replied, acknowledging the implication with a raised eyebrow. “Speaking as one who has had considerable experience, I’d rather try to rob this one than Tutankhamon’s. Look at that nice wide doorway and the easy slope beyond. The objects will be conveniently crated for shipping. Get a sufficient force together, snatch and run while some of your fellows hold off the guards, and hoist the crates straight up that slope to the top of the gebel. No need to cart the loot all the way back to the entrance.”
“Good Gad,” exclaimed Emerson.
“Just an idea,” Sethos said. He buried his face in his handkerchief and let out a reverberating sneeze.
CHAPTER NINE
WITH EMERSON OUT OF THE WAY WE GOT ON BETTER, THOUGH IF I had been able to do so I would have shut the twins and Amira in the latter’s doghouse and locked Gargery in his room. Egypt had revived the old rascal; he had always considered himself to be in charge of the household, and he and Fatima had had a number of run-ins about serving meals. He was at his most officious, puttering round the house from kitchen to parlor, rearranging the decorations and offering unwanted advice about how to prepare various dishes. However, by the time the men returned demanding luncheon, matters were proceeding nicely and I sat down with them to a cold collation of salads and sandwiches. They were singularly reticent about their activities, but under interrogation Ramses admitted they had encountered Kevin and Margaret.
“They have both accepted my invitation,” I said. “Did they happen to mention that they would be coming?”
“We talked of other matters,” Ramses said, and took a very large bite of his chicken sandwich.
He and David took the twins (and the dog) off to his house and promised to keep them there until the party officially began. Charla had been behaving suspiciously well (except for inadvertently pasting herself to a chair), and I anticipated a breakdown. Overnight reformation cannot be expected of a five-year-old. Emerson retreated to his study and