Amelia Peabody Omnibus 1-4 (135 page)

Miss Marshall drew a long breath of amazement. ‘You quite take my breath away, Mrs Emerson. What a thrilling tale!’

I thanked her, and Emerson growled, ‘Mrs Emerson’s rhetorical style, I fear, is influenced by her taste for third-rate romances. You left out all the important details, Amelia. Ramses’ daring rescue–’

‘I will elaborate at another time, Emerson. Here we are, at our little camp; I do hope, Miss Marshall, that you will be comfortable.’

Emerson cheered up when he saw that the second, smaller tent had been placed some distance from our own. ‘Out of hearing range’ was, I believe, his precise phrase. I got the girl settled nicely and returned to my spouse, who had already retired. The interior of the tent was quite dark; but when I asked Emerson to relight the lamp, he refused in such terms that I decided not to pursue the subject.

‘I cannot see a thing, Emerson,’ I said, edging toward the spot where I believed he must be.

‘I can’t see you either, but I can hear you jingling,’ said Emerson’s voice. A hand closed over the folds of my trousers and drew me down.

‘You see?’ said Emerson, after a while. ‘The visual sense is not necessary for the activities I had planned for this evening. One might even argue that it is an interference.’

‘Quite right, my dear Emerson. Only, if you don’t mind, I would prefer to remove the net and combs and pins from my hair myself. You have just put your finger in my eye.’

When these and other encumbrances to conjugal fraternization had been removed, Emerson drew me into his strong arms. Not wishing to discourage the sensations of intense affection that had begun to develop, I unobtrusively freed one hand long enough to draw a blanket over us. Once the sun goes down, the desert nights are chilly. Also, I had not closed the flap of the tent. However, I felt sure Miss Marshall had closed hers; Emerson had mentioned at least four times that she must be sure and do so, for fear of the night air.

As I have had occasion to remark earlier in the pages of this journal, I do not share the prudish attitude of some self-appointed guardians of righteousness concerning the relationship of marriage persons. I rejoice – nay, I glory in – the depth of the regard Emerson and I have for one another. The fact that Emerson is as attracted by my physical characteristics as he is by my character and my spiritual qualities should, in my opinion, be a source of pride rather than embarrassment.

I will therefore state, candidly and without reserve, that I sensed a subtle change in his behaviour that night. It was more tempestuous and at the same time oddly tentative. This may sound contradictory. It
was
contradictory. I cannot account for it, I can only say that such was the case.

Sometime later, after we had settled into our usual sleeping positions – Emerson flat on his back with his arms folded across his breast like a mummified Egyptian pharaoh, I on my side with my head against his shoulder – I heard him sigh.

‘Peabody.’

‘Yes, my dear Emerson?’

‘There is, if I am not mistaken, a foolish convention known as the language of flowers.’

‘I believe you are not mistaken, Emerson.’

‘What do red roses mean in the language of flowers, Peabody?’

‘I have no idea, Emerson. Like yourself, I am sublimely indifferent to foolish conventions.’

‘I think I can guess, though,’ Emerson muttered.

‘Emerson, I cannot imagine why you should concern yourself about such trivial and meaningless matter when we have so many other important issues to discuss. Several things happened today that I want to tell you about. I met a gentleman – a very interesting and attractive individual –’

Emerson rolled over and seized me in a fierce embrace. ‘Don’t talk to me about interesting gentlemen, Peabody. Don’t talk at all!’

And he proceeded to make it difficult, if not impossible, for me to do so, even if I had been so inclined, which at that particular moment I was not.

W
HEN
we returned to the house next day, we found another group of would-be workers patiently waiting outside the gates. Ramses advanced purposefully on Enid, and she fled into her room. Nemo was nowhere to be seen; but I had observed the flutter of a ragged robe in the doorway of the donkey shed, so I went after him.

Since part of the roof was missing, I had no trouble noticing that Nemo had obeyed only part of my orders. He was cleanshaven, and smelled of Pears soap; his hair had been combed and flattened down with water, though drying strands curled around his neck and brow. I reminded myself I must not forget to give him a hair-cut.

I asked why he had not put on his new suit. Instead of answering he countered with another question. ‘Is there any reason why I should not wear native costume, Mrs Emerson? I am used to it now, and it is much more comfortable.’

‘You can wear anything you like, so long as it is clean. I do not tolerate slovenliness on my expeditions. Is that your only robe? Well, then, we will wash it this evening, and while it dries I will cut your hair.’

Mr Nemo made a face, like a little boy about to be given medicine, but he had learned the futility of arguing with me. ‘I wonder if I might ask you for a pair of blue spectacles, Mrs Emerson. The blazing sun is hard on my eyes.’

‘Don’t try to deceive me, Mr Nemo. I know why you want the spectacles – you will find a pair in the third box on the second shelf in the sitting room. You are ashamed of having the young lady see you. Childish, Mr Nemo. Very childish. You will have to face her sooner or later.’

‘Not if I can help it,’ Nemo muttered. ‘Mrs Emerson, all this fuss about washing and cutting hair is a waste of time. Shouldn’t we be bending all our efforts to finding the criminal you mentioned? Surely we would have a better chance of spotting him in Cairo. I could return to my old haunts, and–’

‘No, no, Mr Nemo. You have not the faintest idea of how to proceed. Leave that to me, and follow my orders implicitly. Was there any disturbance last night?’

‘No, all was quiet. But that news seems to disappoint you, Mrs Emerson. Were you hoping for another attack on your son?’

‘I
am
disappointed; I was hoping for an attack – though not necessarily on Ramses. Do you not see, Mr Nemo, that we have not a hope of finding the man we want among the teeming thousands of Cairo? The fellow is a master of disguise; he might be anyone. Our best hope is to wait for him to come to us.’

‘You mean we must sit and wait – indefinitely?’

‘Not indefinitely. Not long, in fact. Sooner or later he will visit us; he has made his interest plain; and I have a few ideas as to how to attract his attention. No, do not ask me what they are; just leave it to me. Now I must be going. Remember – watch Ramses!’

‘With all respect, Mrs Emerson, I cannot imagine why you talk about the boy as if he were some sort of monster. He seems a decent little chap – frightfully long-winded – I don’t believe I have ever heard anyone use so many confounded polysyllabic words. Aside from that, he appears normal enough. Is there something you haven’t told me? Does he suffer from – forgive me – fits of hereditary madness?’

‘I would hate to think it is hereditary,’ I said. ‘No, Mr Nemo, Ramses is quite sane – cold-bloodedly, terrifyingly sane. That is why he is so dangerous. Let me give you a brief summary … No, I have not the time. Even a brief summary would take too long. Just watch him!’

When we set out for the dig a short time later, Nemo mingled with the men. We had taken on an additional dozen or so diggers and a like number of basket children, who were to work with me. We separated our forces, Emerson leading his crew to the Bent Pyramid, and I proceeding toward the smaller one.

This structure was some sixty yards south of its larger neighbour and was obviously part of the same complex. The precise function of the subsidiary pyramids was still being debated. There were three of them attached to the Great Pyramid of Giza, and others at other sites. For my part, I felt certain they had been built for the principal consorts of the kings who were buried in the large pyramids. If I could find a mark or inscription mentioning a royal lady’s name, I could prove my thesis.

I studied the charming little ruin, trying to decide where to begin. I could not determine its height, for not only was the drifting sand piled high around its base, but the removal of the casing stones which had once covered its surface like frosting on a cake had allowed it to slump like an overweight lady after she has removed her corsets. The first thing was to remove the sand and clear the four sides down to ground level.

Enid trailed after me like a dog who is afraid to lose his master. As I proceeded, I explained to her what I was doing and why. ‘I have decided to begin with the north face, since it is more likely that the funerary chapel would be on the side closest to the principal monument. That hollow to the west will be our dump site. We don’t want to cover up any other tombs, and I see no evidence of such a thing there. Here, on this plan, which has been mapped and surveyed, I am indicating the area we will be excavating. It is marked out in squares of ten feet by ten… . Miss Marshall, you are not paying attention. You will give yourself away sooner or later if you don’t learn to make noises like an Egyptologist.’

‘Why not sooner, then? This is hopeless, Mrs Emerson. Perhaps the best thing for me to do is to turn myself in. What good am I doing here?’

‘Faint heart never won … anything, my dear,’ I said, amending the quotation as the situation demanded. ‘I am surprised to see you give up so soon.’

‘But it is hopeless!’

‘Not at all. Kalenischeff – did I mention this? – was a member of the Master Criminal’s gang. He was murdered, if not by that man’s hand, by his orders. All we have to do–’

‘Is find this man – who, by your own admission, is a master of disguise and whose identity is unknown even to you – and force him to confess! You have your own duties, Mrs Emerson – your husband, your child, your work–’

‘My dear Miss Marshall, you underestimate me if you think I cannot carry on two or more activities simultaneously. It is true that I am looking forward to solving the mystery of this little pyramid, but that does not mean I cannot at the same time put my mind to solving a mystery of another kind. I have several schemes in mind–’

‘What?’

It was the second time someone had asked me that question, and I had to admit it was a good question. ‘The less you know, the safer you will be,’ I said. ‘Trust me.’

‘But Mrs Emerson–’

‘You had better call me Amelia. Formality is absurd under these circumstances.’

‘My name is Enid. It is my real name,’ she added, with a rueful smile. ‘When I chose my nom de guerre, I took the chance of retaining my true first name. It is hard to respond, with instinctive ease, to one that is unfamiliar.’

‘Good thinking. You see, you have a talent for deception that is worth cultivating. But please don’t employ it when you tell me about your cousin.’

Enid started violently. ‘Who?’

‘Your kinsman. Ronald – I forget his other name. Is he the sort of person who could help us in our investigation?’

‘Ronald! I beg your pardon; I never think of him as a cousin, since the relationship is so distant. No. Ronald is the last person on whom I would depend in time of trouble. He is an amiable, empty-headed young man who has never done a useful day’s work in his life, or employed his brain for anything more demanding than totalling up his gambling debts.’

‘He sounds a most unattractive person.’

‘No,’ Enid said. ‘Physically he is quite handsome; he has an engaging manner and can be the most amusing companion in the world.’

‘But you don’t want me to tell him where you are – reassure him as to your safety?’

‘Heavens, no. I am sure Ronald is concerned about me – in so far as he is capable of being concerned about anyone but himself. But I am equally certain he didn’t put himself out hurrying to Cairo. He has been in Egypt for some weeks, on – on business – which he abandoned in order to go hunting in the Sudan.’

An indefinable but unmistakable change in her voice and look made me suspect she was holding something back. As later events proved, I was correct, but I will frankly admit – since candour is a quality I prize, and since my errors in judgment are so infrequent as to be worthy of mention – that I was mistaken as to the cause of her reticence. Young ladies often abuse a gentleman in whom they have an intense personal interest. I assumed Miss Debenham was in love with her cousin and was ashamed to admit it because she considered him unworthy of her affection.

Delicacy, therefore, prevented me from pressing the subject, and Enid made it even more difficult for me to do so by reminding me that the men were waiting for my command to begin digging.

After several hours we halted for refreshment. Sitting before our tents, we applied ourselves to eggs and tea, and fresh bread from the village, with good appetite. Emerson’s humour had improved, thanks to the discovery of some blocks of cut stone which betokened the presence of some sort of structure.

Ramses, of course, had to express his evaluation. ‘In my opinion, Papa, we have found signs of two distinct building periods. Since the cult of Sneferu the Good was popular in Ptolemaic times, it is probable–’