The Hippopotamus Pool (15 page)

Emerson frowned and fingered the cleft in his chin. "Neither had I. It makes me wonder if ... Oh, the devil, Peabody, I can't be bothered delivering a lecture at this hour of the night. The mere fact that I don't recognize this piece is sufficient proof that it comes from an undiscovered tomb."

"Of course, my dear. Dare we hope that the rest of the tomb is decorated in the same way?"

"Unknown. However, this is certainly part of a larger scene. You were looking for something to rouse Evelyn, were you not? I think this might do the job."

"Why, Emerson," I cried. "What do you mean?"

"We must begin collecting a staff, Peabody. We will certainly want an artist. Carter is an excellent copyist, but he cannot be spared from his other duties. We need Evelyn, and it is high time she resumed the career she abandoned when she married Walter. We will need him too—there will be inscriptions, possibly papyri." Emerson had begun striding up and down the room, eyes glittering. "I will telegraph in the morning."

"So it is for your own selfish reasons that you propose this?"

Emerson stopped pacing and looked seriously at me. "Quite aside from the fact that I consider Evelyn to have a rare talent for capturing the spirit as well as the details of Egyptian painting, this is precisely what she needs at this time—distraction, hard work, commendation. She won't accept, however, unless we can convince her she is doing us a service. You must persuade her of that."

Tears of admiration dimmed my eyes as I gazed fondly upon Emerson. He is so large and so very loud that even I occasionally lose sight of his underlying sensitivity and perception. Few men would have understood a woman's needs so accurately. (To be sure, he had been often reminded of
my
needs, but he might have been forgiven for believing me to be unique.) He had hit the nail square on the head. Hard work, appreciation, the exercise of her God-given talent, and a soupcon of danger for spice—that was precisely what Evelyn required, and what she secretly yearned for. I found myself remembering a certain large black parasol. No one had known Evelyn possessed it until she had used it to thump a burglar into submission.

"You have hit the nail square on the head, Emerson," I said. "We will both telegraph in the morning. Even if we do not locate the tomb—"

"We will locate it, Peabody."

"How?"

"It is late, my dear. Come to bed."

I was up with the dawn, inspired even beyond my usual energy by the interesting activities that awaited me. Enemies closing in on every hand, a suffering patient awaiting my attentions, Evelyn to be persuaded—and a royal tomb to be found and rescued. We would probably have to fight off half the population of Gurneh if—when!—we located it. The prospects were delightful.

Leaving Emerson sleeping I hastened to Ramses's room, where I found both lads awake and engaged in low-voiced conversation—if conversation it could be called when Ramses was doing all the talking. After I had examined the patient I decided the first order of business was to feed him. I requested Ramses to fetch a tray. This seemed to surprise David a great deal. I presume he was not accustomed to be waited upon. He ate with good appetite, and when he had finished I explained what I intended to do next.

After some rather animated discussion, Ramses suggested I leave the job to him. I demurred at first, on the grounds that Ramses had yet to demonstrate his ability to wash himself, much less other people, but David's expression warned me that he would fight like a tiger if I persisted. Nothing less than complete submersion and prolonged soaking would have the desired effect, so I left him to the tender mercies of Ramses and went off to have my own breakfast.

The others had assembled, and after I had reported on my patient's condition, Gertrude said hesitantly, "I wish to offer my apologies, Mrs. Emerson, for my cowardly behavior last night. It was such a shock, coming on that terrible scene. But I ought to have had better control over myself. I promise it will not occur a second time. The Professor has told me about the poor boy. Would you like me to sit with him today while you are pursuing your archaeological activities?"

"Not necessary," Emerson replied. "I will require your assistance today, Miss Marmaduke. Get your gear together, we will be crossing over to Luxor after breakfast."

"Suspicious," I muttered, after she had taken her departure. "Very suspicious, Emerson."

"Everything strikes you as suspicious, Peabody."

"I don't trust that woman," Nefret declared. "She was on deck before me last night. What was she doing there?"

Elbows on the table, Emerson said, "I don't know. What was she doing?"

"She didn't have time to do anything, I was almost on her heels. As soon as she saw me she screamed and fell down. But if I had not come when I did, who knows what might have happened?" Nefret's eyes flashed. "Don't leave her alone with David, Professor. Her offer to sit with him was extremely suspicious."

Emerson looked from Nefret to me and back to Nefret. "It is like hearing an echo," he muttered. "I begin to wonder whether I am strong enough to manage two of them. Ah, well. 'Man tut was man kann.' I suppose Ramses shares your doubts about Miss Marmaduke? Yes; he would. Well, don't worry about David. One of our men will be on guard, and until I am certain about Miss Marmaduke's motives I will watch her closely. Why do you suppose I am taking the confounded woman with us today?"

When I returned to Ramses's room I found David back in bed, wearing one of Ramses's galabeeyahs. He had the look of a person who has just undergone torture of the most agonizing kind and he made no objection when I examined him—with, of course, due consideration for his dignity. The bruises, cuts and scrapes required only minimal attention, but the festering toe looked even nastier now that it had been washed. The nail was missing and the infection was deep. By the time I had cleaned and bandaged it Emerson was banging on the door demanding that I hurry up.

I bade him enter. "I am almost ready, Emerson. David, I want you to take this medicine."

"Laudanum?" Hands on his hips, Emerson eyed me askance. "Are you certain that is wise, Peabody?"

"He is in considerable pain, though he will not admit it," I replied. "He needs to rest."

"No! I must not—" David stopped, perforce, since I had pinched his nose with my fingers and tipped the liquid neatly down his throat.

"Don't worry," Emerson said. "One of your uncles, or cousins, or whatever the devil they are, will be on guard. You are safe here. Is there anything more you want to tell me?"

"No, Father of Curses. I do not know—"

"We will talk again later," Emerson said. "Come along, Peabody— Ramses."

"I trust," said Ramses, as soon as I had closed the door, "that you did not drug him because you suspect he would attempt to run away, Mother. He will not."

"He gave you his word, I suppose," I said sarcastically.

"Yes. And," said Ramses, "I have promised that if he remains with us, I will teach him how to read the hieroglyphs."

There was not time to continue the conversation. Gertrude and Nefret were waiting, and Emerson bustled us all into the dinghy.

Ramses began lecturing on the temples of Luxor and talked without a break during the voyage. This gave me a chance to collect my own thoughts, which were in need of organization. How busy we were become, and how many things required to be done! Identifying the would-be assassin of David was of prime importance, not only to prevent further assaults but to learn why someone was so intent on silencing him. That information might be got from the boy himself, if he was willing to talk—and if he knew.

First, though, were the telegrams to Evelyn and Walter. Reading over Emerson's shoulder as he wrote, I was moved to murmur, "Emerson, do you really believe it is wise to say we have found an unknown royal tomb? I don't doubt that the contents of that message will be all over Luxor by nightfall and in Cairo almost as soon. Every thief in Gurneh will be on our track, and M. Maspero will be very annoyed with us for not reporting to him immediately, and furthermore—"

"Write your own message, Peabody, and leave this to me," Emerson said, frowning masterfully.

So I did. An explanation for his behavior had occurred to me. I would have thought of it sooner if I had believed Emerson to be capable of such subtle dissimulation.

The telegraph office was located near the Luxor Hotel, and Emerson suggested we have coffee in the hotel garden. This leisurely attitude was so unlike him I knew he was up to something—several somethings, as it turned out.

"Not many people here at this hour," he remarked, surveying the scattering of tourists at the other tables.

"Most have already gone out to Karnak or across to the West Bank," I said, hooking my parasol over the back of my chair. "Only the lazy visitors, who are more interested in dissipation than improvement, would rise so late."

"It is a beautiful spot," Gertrude said dreamily. "What are those purple blossoms cascading over the wall behind us, Mrs. Emerson?"

"Bougainvillea," I replied (for botany is a favorite hobby of mine). "The climate is tropical; it permits the cultivation of such exotic blooms, as well as flowers familiar to us from our English gardens."

Emerson was watching people come and go. Becoming impatient, he interrupted my lecture. "Do you mind, Peabody? It is time we told Miss Marmaduke and the children of our plans."

"Proceed, my dear," I said, wondering what the deuce "our" plans might be.

Beating around the bush is not a habit of Emerson's. "I know the precise location of the tomb," he said.

Nefret and Gertrude responded with the exclamations of admiration a gentlemen expects from females when he has done something to impress them. Ramses responded with a question.

"And how did you ascertain that information, Father, if I may ask?"

"I have my methods," said Emerson, trying to look mysterious. "As to where ... You will discover the answer to that tomorrow morning, when I lead you to the site. Thus far, Miss Marmaduke, I am the only person who knows the precise location. Even Mrs. Emerson has not been taken into my confidence, for the simple reason that the knowledge might endanger her. Inexperienced as you are, you cannot comprehend how far the local thieves will go in order to learn such a secret."

Gertrude leaned forward, her hands clasped as if in prayer. "But surely, the more people who have the information—"

"I prefer to be the only one at risk," said Emerson heroically. "You cannot suppose I would endanger my wife or my innocent young children by sharing such deadly information."

No one who knew anything about me could possibly believe such an idiotic speech, and Ramses's attempt to look innocent was far from convincing. Gertrude might have persisted had not an exclamation from Nefret distracted her. It was only a stifled "Oh!" but it was pronounced in tones sufficiently intense to draw my eyes to the individual whose appearance had prompted it.

He had observed us; he was advancing, hat in hand, face wreathed in smiles. "What an unexpected pleasure!" he exclaimed. "Good morning, Professor and Mrs. Emerson—Miss Forth—Master Emerson. I dare not hope you will remember me—"

"Good morning, Sir Edward," I replied, stamping heavily on Ramses's foot. The impact jolted a gruff "Sir," out of him, which was as much as I could reasonably expect. Nefret's greeting had consisted of a smile and a dimple.

Emerson looked him up and down, from his fair head to his polished boots. "Good morning. We met last year, I believe. You were with the Northampton Expedition."

"I am flattered, sir, that you should recall such a fleeting encounter."

"You, an archaeologist?" I exclaimed in surprise.

The young man laughed good-naturedly. "I don't merit that honorable designation, Mrs. Emerson, though I
am
keen. Lord Northampton is a distant relation of my mother's—or, to put it another way, I am a verydistant poor relation of his. He was good enough to employ me as a photographer last season."

How bitterly I regretted having spared her doting guardian the knowledge of Nefret's scandalous behavior with this person! It was too late now; the look of calculation on Emerson's face made his intentions clear to me. In fact, I wondered if he had come to the garden in the hope of meeting with Sir Edward. He could have arranged to be informed of all new arrivals in Luxor. (And indeed I much regretted not having done so myself. The vultures would be gathering ... )

Sir Edward had remained standing, hat in hand. Emerson waved him to a chair. "That motorcar of yours—" he began.

"Not mine, sir; it is the property of a friend who sometimes allows me to put it through its paces. We poor relations—"

"Yes, yes," Emerson broke in. "What would be the chances of getting such a vehicle to Luxor, do you think?"

"Good Gad, Emerson!" I exclaimed. "What a ridiculous idea! Even if you could get it here, what would you do with it?"

Sir Edward glanced at me. He appeared to be trying to compose an answer that would offend neither party. "One would need special tyres for desert travel, of course. But they are sturdy vehicles; last year a Stanley Steamer made it up to the top of Mount Washington."