Tomb of the Golden Bird - Elizabeth Peters [99]
“You’re letting your doubts of the man influence your judgment,” David argued. “You haven’t a scrap of evidence against him. He’s devoted to all of you.”
“So what’s your explanation?” Ramses asked.
David shrugged. “I haven’t one.”
“Neither have we,” I said. “What happened to Gargery only makes it more confusing. What was the point of carrying him off and then returning him without so much as a bruise on him?”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Ramses was no longer smiling. “Another warning. This time it was Gargery. Next time it may be someone else.”
FROM MANUSCRIPT H
Ramses and David did sit up half the night talking. After Sennia and Gargery had been tucked into bed, Ramses’s mother joined them. She was wearing a voluminous dressing gown and her neatly braided hair was covered by a ruffled cap. Ramses always found these demonstrations of feminine vanity amusing; but her eyes were hard and alert, and she did not waste time.
“I don’t want to leave Sennia alone too long. Where did you go this afternoon?”
“I was just about to tell David,” Ramses said.
“And not me?” She sat down on the foot of his bed.
“I expected you’d turn up,” Ramses said, smiling at her. “Anyhow, there’s not much to tell. We decided, didn’t we, that we wouldn’t contact Smith directly. I made the rounds—the Turf Club, the Gezira, and a few of his other haunts—saw a few familiar faces, but not his. It’s rather odd. None of his acquaintances has seen him for some time.”
“Perhaps he’s ill. Did you go round to his office?”
“No. That would have been too direct. I dropped in on Russell instead.”
“Not a bad notion,” she said, looking chagrined that she hadn’t thought of it herself. “He is a man of integrity—unlike some of your acquaintances in the intelligence services—and as commandant of the police he has informants all over Egypt. I trust you were discreet in your questions?”
“I didn’t mention Sethos, or cryptic messages, if that’s what you mean. But he did give me a rather grim picture of the current political situation. Assassinations of British officials have increased, and even Russell doesn’t know who is behind them. Most of the attacks occur when the target is on his way to his office, and though his car is preceded and followed by other vehicles containing armed guards, the killers sometimes manage to draw up alongside and fire several rounds before speeding away. Russell’s not concerned with the broader picture except as it affects his work, but the entire Middle East is boiling with discontent.”
“That isn’t much help.”
“It was the best I could do without giving away information.”
“Yes, my dear, I know; I didn’t mean to criticize.” Murmuring discontentedly and shaking her handsome head, she bade them good night and went out. Ramses stood at the door until her door closed and he heard the bolt being drawn.
“So what about the famous tomb?” David asked.
“Was that what fetched you? I know you dote on us, but we can’t really compete with Lia and the children.”
David laughed. “How cynical! The Illustrated London News has offered me a substantial sum for drawings of the objects.”
“I hate to be discouraging, but your chances are none too good. Father had a falling-out with Carnarvon, and we’ve been banned from the tomb.”
“I heard about that. Did the Professor really curse him?”
“It’s no laughing matter,” Ramses said, shaking his head. “The prohibition includes the whole family, and many of our friends. It’s a pity, really. You’d lose your head over some of those artifacts. However, I don’t know that Carnarvon would admit you even if he weren’t angry with father. There’s a rumor that he intends to give exclusive rights to the Times.”
“Tell me about the tomb.” David knocked out his pipe and stretched out on the bed, hands under his head.
It was like old times, when they had talked the night away, discussing tombs, treasures, and mummies, or planning some wild adventure. In the early days, before David and he had become involved in darker plots, Nefret had often been a party to their schemes. Sometimes he wondered