Tomb of the Golden Bird - Elizabeth Peters [64]
“She claims to be an old friend of yours,” continued Kevin, who was, of course, unaware of the lady’s relationship to “Anthony Bissinghurst.” “See here, you won’t let anything slip to her, will you? I’ve known you all longer than she has.”
“I won’t let anything slip to anyone, including you,” said Emerson. “Have you finished breakfast? It is more than you deserve. Be off with you.”
Kevin rose with alacrity. “The telegraph office should be open by now.” He chortled. “I’ll be the first, even ahead of Merton.”
“If you quote me or Mrs. Emerson I will have your head on a platter,” Emerson shouted after his retreating form.
“He won’t dare,” I said. “He’s still counting on our goodwill. In fact, I don’t see how he can find anything to write about. He didn’t get inside the tomb.”
“He doesn’t need facts,” Emerson grumbled. “He’ll invent a pack of rubbish and fill it out with innuendo.”
Sethos patted his lips with his napkin and put it neatly on the table. “I do hate to intrude on this discussion with my petty personal problems, but have any of you stopped to think what may ensue if Margaret comes here?”
“She’ll be badgering us for information,” Emerson growled. Then his face changed. “Oh. Good Gad. You mean—”
“Her arrival may reawaken the suspicions of those who know she is the wife of their quarry,” I said. “We have been free of surveillance lately, but that may not last.”
“Hell and damnation,” said Nefret. She was thinking of the children. “Can’t we head her off?”
“How?” Ramses demanded. “Any attempt to communicate with her will only arouse the interest we must avoid at all costs.”
I was watching Sethos, whose eyes were fixed on Nefret’s worried face. I knew, as surely as if he had spoken aloud, what he meant to do.
For the next few days I kept a close eye on my brother-in-law, though to be honest I had not decided what I would do if he made a conspicuous departure. He was torn too, I believe; having decided to throw himself to the wolves in order to lead them away from us, he was in no hurry to do so. There was, of course, the possibility that even that sacrifice would not save us if his pursuers believed we had a copy of the mysterious document. Ramses had gone back to work on it, realizing, as Sethos and I did, that its solution might offer the answer to our problems.
Everyone else was totally preoccupied with the new tomb. On the day following our little adventure there, the wall was removed and Carter entered the outer chamber for, as he claimed, the first time. Neither he nor Carnarvon admitted to their noctural trespass. Inexplicably, Rex Engelbach declined to attend, sending his assistant Ibrahim in his place. The boatmen were kept busy ferrying tourists across to the West Bank. We knew from our own experience that Howard would be besieged by requests from people wanting to see the tomb. First, of course, came the formal viewings for officials of the government and the Antiquities Department.
We were not included on either occasion. It was a deliberate snub, especially since Merton of the Times was among the second group of official visitors—the only journalist so favored. I fancied I could hear Kevin’s curses all the way from the Valley.
We got all the news, fresh off the press as some might say, from Daoud. Emerson did not go near the East Valley. He was too proud to sue for favors. I was not, but he refused to allow me or anyone else to make overtures, not even Nefret, who had a way with gentlemen. Instead, Emerson put us all back to work in the West Valley, with a fervor that almost made up for his earlier disinterest.
“He’s afraid Carnarvon will throw us out,” said Cyrus. With Bertie and Jumana we were taking a little rest in the shade of the shelter I had caused to be erected. It was very warm, and we had been working hard that morning. Cyrus wrung out his goatee, which, like the rest of him, was soaked with perspiration, and then accepted