Tutankhamun Uncovered (48 page)

As Carter flashed his expert eyes over the rubble mass that surrounded the pot he noticed, spread widely distant from one another, two other gaps between the stones. Barely visible within the shadows inside these tiny windows were other smooth surfaces unmistakably fashioned by the hand of man.

“There are more, Lady Evelyn,” he said with some excitement. “See... here... and here.”

“Oh, Howard. How exciting! Howard, may I excavate them myself? It would give me so much pleasure.”

A very real step within Carter’s private territory this was asking a lot. The lady had absolutely no technical experience. She could easily damage what she was seeking to recover. Worse still, she was excited, and in the exuberance of the moment might be too intoxicated and impatient to take the care required.

Carter was not a tactfully political man. But over the past few years he had had plenty of time to reflect on which side his bread was buttered and on the manner in which he would contrive to keep this sustenance in good supply. After a thoughtful pause he conceded.

“As your ladyship pleases. I will record the positions and descriptions as you excavate. But take the greatest care, I implore you.”

He drew out his notebook and watched her closely as she removed the dirt with her bare hands. He advised her now and then as to which piece of gravel to remove to ensure the best chance of the jar releasing itself from the soil in one piece. To his great relief she did take care. It took her over half an hour to clear the area, and when she had finished she had before her a pair of soiled hands and no less than thirteen complete jars, all calcite, all beautifully shaped, to varying degrees all damaged, but all complete and readily restorable.

“A true professional!” Carter congratulated Lady Evelyn. “I could not have done better myself. We must now carefully package the pieces. I will want to take some samples of the contents for analysis at Lucas’s labs in Cairo. And, of course, unfortunately we shall have to show the hoard to Lacau. It is he who will decide who gets what.”

He turned and looked up at Carnarvon who was still standing at the edge of the pit.

“Things have changed since you were here last, sir. You remember me telling you so? Changed for the worse, I am afraid. And Pierre Lacau is a part of it. You will find that in the matter of division of discoveries they are not as generous or as equable as they once were. Quite to the contrary. But you will see soon enough when we take this little lot to ‘Le Directeur’.”

The pieces were carefully wrapped in cotton wool and boxed. Each jar had its own separate box. Each was laid on a stretcher and carried back to Carter’s house.

That night, as the three relaxed on the terrace of Carnarvon’s hotel in Luxor, Carter mused at his good fortune and worried about what he might have to do next to maintain his patron’s interest. For now, at least, this lucky event had bought him some time.

His elbows resting on the arms of his wicker chair, he held the gin tumbler in both hands and pressed his chin to the lip. He stared thoughtfully towards the sunset.

“A penny for them, Howard,” piped up Lady Evelyn.

He smiled. “I was reflecting on our fortunes of the day. The find was a good one was it not, Lady Evelyn?”

“Oh, yes. And all the more pleasing to be there at the moment the jars were discovered and so fortunate to take part in their recovery. It was most generous of you to allow me the breach of discipline.” She nodded a knowing glance at Carter.

He took her meaning and smiled. “I must admit, my lady, you had me a little worried for a while. But, as I observed, you have a natural skill a gentle touch So I quickly became relaxed about it.”

“Yes, Howard. She did damn well,” chimed the earl. “But can we better this tomorrow?”

“Well, that’s another thing I was dwelling on, sir,” said Carter. “I should like to be quickly put out of the misery of worrying about how much of the find Monsieur le Directeur might allow your lordship to keep. If it fits in with your wishes, sir, I would like to travel with the pieces to Cairo tomorrow to get it over with. Besides, at the same time we can visit with Mr Lucas at his laboratory to see if he can shed some light on the nature of the jars’ contents. What do you say?”

“Capital idea. Capital. Will y’come with us, m’dear?”

“If you don’t mind, Father, I should like to stay here and rest a little. Today’s excitement has quite worn me out. I could do with a day’s relaxation. Do you mind?”

“Not at all, m’ dear. Do you good, I’m sure. The trip’s not exactly without its hardships. In fact, now I come to dwell on it, I think I could do with a day off m’self. We don’t get much sleep if we’re to rise early enough to get the through train. Do you mind if we put the trip off for a day, Howard? I believe the reality of fatigue is being suppressed by all this excitement.”

“Agreed, sir. I could usefully use the time back at the house. I have notes to catch up on. In any case, I shall have to telegraph Lacau to ensure we have an appointment.”

As Carter sailed back to the west bank later that evening he felt relieved he had fended off another few days of oversight by the earl. He didn’t know why, but at the present time he didn’t feel all that lucky, notwithstanding their successes earlier in the day.

On their day of rest Carter studied the inscriptions on the cache of jars. They turned out to be attributed to Pharaoh Merneptah. The location of this particular Pharaoh’s tomb was situated at one of the points of Carter’s triangle of investigation. Their discovery, therefore, led him no nearer to Tutankhamen. So far as his ultimate quarry was concerned, he felt more depressed than elated by the find. And he could hardly bear the thought of being watched by his patron for the remainder of a what he now felt assuredly would turn out to be a barren season. A few more days of diversion would be welcomed.

Carnarvon and Carter were at the station long before sunrise. The trip took all day. The train ride began uncomfortably enough, but later, in the heat of the day, it would become almost unbearable. As the carriages rattled and rocked over the well used rails, the thickly warm draught would provide little comfort. Nevertheless, some breeze was better than no breeze at all.

Carnarvon’s doctor travelled with them in case of emergency, plus the earl’s man who laboured on board carrying a large picnic hamper. Carnarvon would never take the food and drink served on the train. Abdel and a colleague sat in the baggage car with the earl’s and Carter’s belongings and the antiquities.

Following a wash and brush up and a change of clothes, they were soon to be found seated comfortably on the sunset lit veranda at the Continental Savoy. Their personal, red-fezzed waiter stood at attention at the door, broad shouldered cut lead crystal tumblers of iced gin and tonic reclined securely in their hands, and cucumber sandwiches lay fanned out on crested porcelain centred within a silver tray. This cocktail of impressions went a long way to settling them peacefully back into the cosseted environment in which the earl had grown up and Carter had grown to enjoy. Tomorrow they would have to brave the streets on their way to Lucas’s lab and thereafter to the Director’s office, but for now they could relax and forget the noise and chaotic carryon that existed just outside the hotel perimeter.

The following morning the team of two with their Arab carriers arrived at the lab with samples of the jars’ contents. Lucas rushed down the corridor to meet them, his unbuttoned white lab coat flapping all about him. “Howard!” he shouted. “Overjoyed to see you, old boy!”

“Me, too,” answered Carter, turning to the earl. “May I introduce his lordship, the Earl of Carnarvon. Doctor Alfred Lucas, sir.”

“Sir, a great pleasure.”

“All mine, Doctor Lucas. I have heard much good said about you. A detective a sleuth no less so I am told.”

He even looks it, thought Carnarvon. He was a slight man, with oiled and combed back black hair cropped extremely short on the sides, dark black eyebrows and a small moustache. The hair, although thin, had not gone from the top of his head but it had receded sufficiently to expose a lofty forehead which extended down to a large nose, on which rested a pair of wire spectacles. ‘Quite the country Detective Inspector’, thought the earl.

“You are too kind, sir. I...”

Carter cut in. “Don’t be modest, Alfred. His lordship knows I only tell the truth about other men. Besides, you can prove yourself. Look here. We have something innocuous to test your analytical skills.”

By now they had walked into the laboratory itself and Carter slowly unwrapped the substances and placed them on the tiled table.

“What say you?”

After a pause Lucas said, “Pretty innocuous.” And they all laughed.

“When do you think you might have an opinion for me, Alfred?”

“Got rather a lot on right now, Howard. Could take a while ‘specially since it doesn’t look that interesting.” He watched for the downcast expression. “But for you, my friend and for his lordship I shall attend to it immediately. How about tomorrow?”

The visitors both smiled and shook Lucas by the hand.

“Have you time to join us for dinner tonight, Doctor Lucas,” asked Carnarvon. “It would be our pleasure.”

The prospect of a free four course meal with the aristocracy at the best hotel in Cairo would be a welcome change to the pattern of Lucas’s routine and rather singular life, even if he did have to dust off his black tie.

“I would be absolutely delighted, sir.”

“How about eight o’clock at the Continental Savoy?”

“Eight o’clock it is, sir. I may even have some results for you by then.”

Carter looked at his pocket watch. “We must be going, sir, or we shall be late for our appointment with Monsieur Lacau.”

As they left, Lucas called after them, “Mind your Ps and Qs with that one, Howard. No sense of humour, even for a Frog. He takes life very seriously does Pierre.”

The imposing figure of the Frenchman politely greeted the two at the front door to his office. “I am most honoured by this visit, Lord Carnarvon.”

“The honour is ours, Monsieur le Directeur,” followed Carnarvon. “It is always a great pleasure to be in the presence of one so distinguished as yourself.”

Carter turned his head away and rolled his eyes.

“For me, too, but doubly, your lordship. To be in the presence of one who has given so much and so generously to this country’s heritage and, at the same time, in the presence of one so accomplished at his work.”

He turned to look directly at Carter, who acknowledged his attentions with a barely perceptible smile.

“Come, let us sit down and take some tea.” He waved at his houseboy and the servant disappeared.

“Now. What may I do for you?”

“We have just two days since made a modest discovery in The Valley.”

“As expected. I knew your methods would bear fruit. Modest discovery, you say?”

“Yes, modest. We have brought the cache with us for donation to the Cairo Museum...” Carter paused for a moment. “...and to obtain your judgement on the division.” Carter summoned Abdel into the room with the stretcher.

“Well. Let us take a look.”

Lacau pushed the objects and papers on his desk to one side.

“Nearly all of it requires restoration,” Carter cautioned as he unwrapped one of the balls of cotton wool. “But I am happy to say that all the pieces are accounted for. It is a funerary cache of thirteen calcite jars of different sizes and styles, all of them attributed to the burial of Merneptah. See the inscription on this piece.”

Lacau nodded in recognition.

“All found close to the tomb entrance within the triangle of our investigation.”

“Some beautiful carving,” the director acknowledged as more and larger pieces were unwrapped, among them the ibex headed handles. “Most exquisite.” He examined the fragments closely. “Très beau. Magnifique!”

He replaced the piece he had been looking at and slapped his large hands down on the desk. “Lord Carnarvon! Mr Carter! This is truly a remarkable find. A great windfall for the Cairo Museum. Once more we are indebted to you.”

Carter sat back. Listening to all this he was totally bemused. ‘What is the man up to? ‘Indebted’ is a good word, but why so conciliatory? These are not the greatest finds Lacau has ever seen. He has already made it quite clear to me where he stands on the subject of so-called qualified archaeologists. And he’s not normally this polite with aristocracy. The smarmy Frog’s up to something!’

“Thirteen jars you say?” asked Lacau, looking directly at Carter once more.

“Yes... Yes, sir,” answered Carter.

“Mmm. The board of directors will react badly if I do not recommend they receive the majority of the find.”

He paused momentarily, apparently thinking, but he had had what he was going to say in his mind for some time already. “How about... seven for the museum; and six for you?”

Carter sat speechless.

Carnarvon was not. “That is most satisfactory, Monsieur le Directeur. A most satisfactory settlement.”

Carter interceded. “What... what about Quibell?”

“What about Quibell? I’ll fix Quibell. The curator does as I instruct him.”

“I will have them restored first, so that we may see them complete, and then return the six to you, Lord Carnarvon.” Lacau continued, “If your lordship is not in Egypt at that time, I shall have them placed in the safekeeping of Mr Carter who will return with them when he leaves for the summer.”

“Thank you, Monsieur Lacau.” Carnarvon rose to take Lacau’s already extended hand. “I look forward to seeing these fine pieces complement my collection at Highclere. And I look forward to the moment when I may entertain your presence there, Monsieur Lacau.”

Lacau made a polite half bow in acknowledgement.

Carter was puzzled: ‘The apparent generosity is out of character. He cannot be doing this with any sincerity. He’s up to something.’

They emerged from the Director’s office to Carnarvon’s car which was awaiting them at the front door.

“Home, James,” Carter quipped to the driver. “What a successful negotiation, sir. Quite remarkable.”

“I must say,” said Carnarvon somewhat surprised at Carter’s obvious relief. “I do not see why you were so concerned. I thought you had indicated to me that the situation was changed in Egypt that the Egyptians and those foreigners who worked in their interests had become tightly nationalistic. I remember your words. I must confess, up to this point I have seen none of which you spoke. In fact, quite to the contrary. I would say that Monsieur Lacau has, on this occasion at least, been more lenient than our long departed and much loved Monsieur Maspero. Am I wrong? Is there something so subtle in this that I do not observe?”