The Mummy Case (20 page)

De Morgan glanced at the sun, now high overhead. "I must return to my excavations, madame. I advise you to call in the local authorities. They will deal with your servants."

A howl of anguish broke out from the huddled group of men. They knew only too well how local authorities dealt with suspects. With a reassuring gesture I turned to the baroness. "I forbid it," I cried.

"You forbid it?" De Morgan lifted his eyebrows.

"And so do I," Emerson said, stepping to my side. "You know as well as I do, de Morgan, that the favorite method of interrogation hereabouts consists of beating the suspects on the soles of their feet until they confess. They are presumed guilty until proven innocent. However," he added, scowling at de Morgan, "that assumption may not seem unreasonable to a citizen of the French Republic, with its antiquated Napoleonic Code."

De Morgan flung up his arms. "I wash my hands of the whole affair! Already I have wasted half a day. Do as you wish."

"I fully intend to," Emerson replied. "Bonjour, monsieur."

After de Morgan had stamped off, cursing quietly in his own tongue, Emerson addressed the baroness. "You understand, madam," he said, squaring his splendid shoulders, "that if you call the police, Mrs. Emerson and I will not assist you."

The baroness was more moved by the shoulders than by the threat. Eyes slightly glazed, she stood staring at my husband's stalwart form until I nudged her with my indispensable parasol. "What?" she mumbled, starting. "The police—who wants them? What is missing, after all? Nothing I cannot easily replace."

"I congratulate you on your good sense," said Emerson. "There is no need for you to concern yourself further at this time; if you would care to retire—"

"But no, you do not understand!" The appalling woman actually seized him by the arm and thrust her face into his. "The stolen objects are unimportant. But what of me? I am afraid for my life, for my virtue—"

"I really don't think you need worry about that," I said.

"You will protect me—a poor helpless Madchen?" the baroness insisted. Her fingers stroked Emerson's biceps. Emerson's biceps are quite remarkable, but I allow no one except myself to admire them in that fashion.

"I will protect you, Baroness," I said firmly. "That is our customary arrangement when my husband and I are engaged in detectival pursuits. He pursues, I protect the ladies."

"Yes, quite right," said Emerson, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other. "I will leave you with Mrs. Emerson, madam, and I will—I will go and—I will inquire—"

The baroness released her hold and Emerson beat a hasty retreat. "You are in no danger," I said. "Unless you have information you have not disclosed."

"No." The baroness grinned knowingly at me. "He is a very handsome man, your husband. Mucho macho, as the Spanish say."

"Do they really?"

"But I do not waste time on a hopeless cause," the baroness continued. "I see that he is tied firmly to the apron strings of his good English Frau. I shall leave Dahshoor tomorrow."

"What of Brother David?" I asked maliciously. "He is not tied to a woman's apron strings—unless Miss Charity has captured his heart."

"That pale, washed-out child?" The baroness snorted. "No, no, she adores him, but he is indifferent to her. She has nothing to offer him. Make no mistake, Frau Emerson, the beautiful young man is only saintly in his face and figure. He has, as the French say, an eye pour le main chance."

The baroness's French and Spanish were as fractured as her English, but I fancied she was not as ignorant of human nature as she was of languages. She went on with mounting indignation, "I have sent for him today, to come to my rescue, and does he come? No, he does not. And a large donation I have made to his church."

So Emerson's surmise had been correct! I said, "You do Brother David an injustice, Baroness. Here he is now."

She turned. "Herr
Gott,"
she exclaimed. "He has brought the ugly Pfarrer with him."

"It is the other way around, I fancy."

"I escape," the baroness said loudly. "I run away. Tell them I can see no one." But in stepping forward she tripped on her flounces and fell in a disheveled heap upon the couch. Brother Ezekiel pounced on her before she could rise. Fumbling in the pile of agitated ruffles, he pulled out a hand, which he seized firmly in his big hairy fists.

"Dear sister, I rejoice that you are not harmed. Let us bow our heads and thank God for this merciful escape. Heavenly Father, let the weight of your wrath fall on the villains who have perpetrated this deed; mash 'em flat to the dust, O Lord, lay 'em low as you did the Amalekites and the Jebusites and the..."

The polysyllabic catalog rolled on. "Good morning, Brother David," I said. "I am glad you are here; I can leave the baroness to you."

"You can indeed," David assured me, his mild blue eyes beaming. "The tender and womanly compassion that is so peculiarly your own does you credit, Mrs. Emerson, but there is no need for you to remain."

The baroness lay quite still. I could see her face; her eyes were closed and she appeared to be asleep, though how she could have slept through Brother Ezekiel's voice I cannot imagine, "...and the kings of Midian, namely Evi and Rekem and Zur and Hur..."

I found Emerson surrounded by the servants and the members of the crew. He was haranguing them in Arabic, to which they listened with fascinated attention. Arabs do love a skilled orator. Seeing me, he concluded his speech. "You know me, my brothers; you know I do not lie, and that I protect all honest men. Think well on what I have said."

"What did you say?" I inquired as we walked away, followed by the respectful farewells of the audience: "Allah preserve thee; the mercy and blessing of Allah be with thee."

"Oh, the usual thing, Peabody. I don't believe any of the men were directly involved in the robbery, but they must have been bribed to remain silent. An object the size of that mummy case could not have been removed from the salon without waking someone."

"Bribed—or intimidated? I sense the sinister shadow of the Master Criminal, Emerson. How far his evil web must stretch!"

"I warn you, Peabody, I will not be responsible if you go on talking of webs and shadows and Master Criminals. This is a case of sordid, commonplace thievery. It can have no connection—"

"Like a giant spider weaving his tangled strands into a net that snares rich and poor, guilty and innocent—"

Emerson leaped onto his donkey and urged it into a trot.

We had left the cultivation far behind before his countenance regained its customary placidity. I refrained from further discussion, knowing that sooner or later he would acknowledge the accuracy of my analysis. Sure enough, it was not long before he remarked musingly, "All the same, the case has one or two curious features. Why should thieves go to so much trouble to make off with an ordinary Romano-Egyptian mummy case? It was that of a commoner; there could be no expectation of finding jewelry or valuable amulets among the wrappings."

"What of the other objects that were taken?" I asked.

"That is what makes the situation even more curious, Peabody. Two other things were taken—the scarab and the statuette. They were the most valuable objects in the collection. The statuette was particularly fine, late Eighteenth Dynasty, if I am not mistaken. One might suppose that the thief was an expert in his unsavory trade, since he knew the valuable from the valueless. Yet there were other items, small and easily portable, that might have fetched a decent price, and the thieves left them in order to expend enormous effort on removing a worthless mummy case."

"You have forgotten to mention one item that was taken," I said. "Or perhaps you did not observe it was missing."

"What are you talking about, Peabody? I missed nothing."

"Yes, Emerson, you did."

"No, Peabody, I did not."

"The lion cub, Emerson. The cage was empty."

Emerson's hands released their grip on the reins. His donkey came to a halt. I reined up beside him.

"Empty," he repeated stupidly.

"The door had been closed and the cage pushed aside, but I observed it closely and I can assure you—"

"Oh, good Gad!" Emerson looked at me in consternation. "Peabody! Your own innocent child...You don't suspect... Ramses could not possibly have carried off that heavy mummy case. Besides, he has better taste than to steal something like that."

"I have long since given up trying to anticipate what Ramses can and cannot do," I replied, with considerable heat. "Your second point has some merit; but Ramses' motives are as obscure as his capabilities are remarkable. I never know what the devil the child has in mind."

"Language, Peabody, language."

I took a grip on myself. "You are right. Thank you for reminding me, Emerson."

"You are quite welcome, Peabody."

He took up his reins and we went on in pensive silence. Then Emerson said uneasily, "Where do you suppose he has put it?"

"What, the mummy case?"

"No, curse it. The lion cub."

"We will soon find out."

"You don't believe he was involved in the other theft, do you, Amelia?" Emerson's voice was piteous.

"No, of course not. I know the identity of the thief. As soon as I have dealt with Ramses I will take him into custody."

The lion cub was in Ramses' room. Ramses was sitting on the floor teasing it with a nasty-looking bit of raw meat when we burst in. He looked up with a frown and said reproachfully, "You did not knock, Mama and Papa. You know dat my privacy is important to me."

"What would you have done if we had knocked?" Emerson asked.

"I would have put de lion under de bed," said Ramses.

"But how could you possibly suppose—" Emerson began. I joggled him with my elbow. "Emerson, you are letting Ramses get you off the track again. He always does it and you always succumb. Ramses."

"Yes, Mama?" The cub rolled itself into a furry ball around his fist.

"I told you not to..." But there I was forced to stop to reconsider. I had not told Ramses he must not steal the baroness's lion. He waited politely for me to finish, and I said weakly, "I told you not to wander off alone."

"But I did not, Mama. Selim went wit' me. He carried de lion cub. My donkey would not let me take it up wit' me."

I had seen Selim that morning, but now that I thought about it I realized he had been careful to let me see only his back. No doubt his face and hands bore evidence of the cub's reluctance to be carried.

I squatted down on the floor to examine the animal more closely. It certainly appeared to be in good health and spirits. In a purely investigative manner, to check the condition of its fur, I tickled the back of its head.

"I am training it to hunt for itself," Ramses explained, dragging the loathsome morsel across the cub's rounded stomach. Apparently it had had enough to eat, for it ignored the meat and began licking my fingers.

"What are you going to do with it?" Emerson inquired, sitting down on the floor. The cub transferred its attentions to his fingers, and he chuckled. "It's an engaging little creature."

"All small creatures are engaging," I replied coldly. The cub climbed onto my lap and nuzzled into my skirt. "But one day this small creature will be big enough to swallow you in two bites, Ramses. No, lion, I am not your mother. There is nothing for you there. You had better find it some milk, Ramses."

"Yes, Mama, I will. T'ank you, Mama, I had not t'ought of dat."

"And don't try your tricks with me, Ramses. I am not susceptible to charming young animals of any species. I am really disappointed in you. I had hoped you possessed a greater sense of responsibility. You have taken this helpless creature..." The cub, frustrated in its quest for sustenance, sank its sharp little teeth into the upper portion of my leg, and I broke off with a yelp. Emerson removed it and began playing with it while I continued, ".. .this helpless creature into your charge, and you are incapable of giving it the care it requires. I fondly hope you do not entertain any notion that you can persuade your father and me to take it home with us."

"Oh no, Mama," said Ramses, wide-eyed. Emerson trailed the meat across the floor and chortled when the cub pounced on it.

"I am glad you realize that. We cannot always be bringing animals back from Egypt. The cat Bastet... Good heavens, what about the cat? She won't tolerate this infantile intruder for a moment."

"She likes it," said Ramses.

The cat Bastet lay atop the packing case Ramses used as a cupboard. Paws folded beneath her smooth breast, she watched the antics of the cub with what appeared to be an expression of benevolent interest.

"Well, well," said Emerson, getting to his feet. "We will think of something, Ramses."

"I have already t'ought, Papa. I am going to give it to Aunt Evelyn and Uncle Walter. Dere is ample space for a menagerie at Chalfont, conducted on de latest scientific principles, and wit' a veterinarian in constant attendance—"

"That is the most appalling suggestion I have ever heard," I exclaimed. "Ramses, I am thoroughly disaffected with you. Consider yourself confined to your room until further notice. No— that won't do. You must repair some small part of the havoc you have wrought. Go immediately and fetch Selim."