Murder Most Egyptological (A Mrs. Xavier Stayton Mystery Book 3) (14 page)

   Wilma’s beady eyes became very big. “He didn’t know what she was going to do!”

   William patted his wife’s shoulder. “Oh, I knew. She just wanted to see her daughter, and then make the pain end.”

   I asked, “There was an inquest?”

   “Hers was a prominent family—under the rug, I think is how you’d say things were dealt with. But scandal sticks to you, rumors, exaggerations. I couldn’t practice medicine with people calling me a murderer behind my back.”

   “You left, and your old friend Alec Kinkaid gave you a job, far away from Harrogate,” I remarked.

   The doctor nodded his head, and I went on, “Having providing a lethal dose of medicine to someone made you hesitant to give Percy what he asked for?”

   “Quite right!” He looked me in the eye. “Percy told me he’d take some from me on the days he needed it … I didn’t have much choice. Alec knew my past, but it wasn’t anyone else’s concern.”

   The doctor’s scornful eyes fell on Alec, and then he looked away.

   Kinkaid’s brow furrowed, and in his typical mumbling fashion, he admitted, “I didn’t mean to tell him. I made some mention of your flight from Harrogate, and he dragged the rest of the story out of me.”

   The doctor made brief eye contact with the professor and then shrugged as his wife patted his arm. 

   Before anything else could be asked, our attention was diverted as we heard one of the doors to the sunny chamber swing open. Sandy strolled to our table, ignoring the curious stares directed toward him.

   “Sorry I’m late.” He smiled innocently and asked, “Did I miss anything?”

   The man’s quip brought about a few sighs and a bit of nervous laughter.

   Hazel set down her china cup and said, “Mrs. Stayton, I had hoped that you’d solve this, but obviously, you are just pointing your finger about and hoping for a confession.”

   Sandy gave a chuckle and remarked, “Isn’t it obvious that Jacob killed Percy?”

   There was a little collective gasp, and then Jacob shot back, “Me? Why would I have killed Percy?”

   Before Sandy could respond, I replied, “No Jacob, you did not kill Percy. You killed Hat Tem.”

   The color drained from the young archeologist’s face. “Rubbish, what possible motive could I have?” he muttered, with little zeal.

   I glanced at Professor Kinkaid. “You wanted to end your lackluster career on a high note, whatever it took.”

   “My career has been quite successful—” Kinkaid began to refute me.

  “Your career has been a joke, Alec!” barked Jacob, finally turning on his master.

   I silenced them both when I said, “How easy you made it for Hat Tem to profit from his secret find.”

   Under his breath, Kinkaid replied, “Damn you.”

   “Alec, what is she talking about?” asked Martha, squeezing her husband’s hand.

   Reluctantly, the man explained, “Kamose’s tomb was empty, it had never been used, most likely abandoned after his brief stint as regent ended.” Kinkaid sucked in a quick gasp of air and shook his head. “But all I needed was a tomb that hadn’t been documented.”

   Kinkaid looked into his wife’s eyes. “Hat Tem knew where a cache of mummies was hidden, as he had already pilfered it and sold some of the grave goods. With the help of Mrs. Keeley, well-known for her dabbling, we were introduced. He told us the price he wanted, and he took us to the cache.”

   “Oh, Alec,” said Martha, as  she began to understand why her husband had been so distant.

   I blurted out my theory, “You took what you wanted, items that could be claimed as Kamose’s, and then you somehow got them in the tomb—by night, perhaps?”

   Alec’s head hung. “The sarcophagus that was the hard one. We chose the simplest of them, one that belonged to a priest or a royal son, and then we broke it apart, unable to secretly move it from the cache to the tomb in one piece.”

   “Then there never was a mummy,” said Lucy.

   Martha, Alec, Wilma, and William all retorted, “Yes, there was.”

   I looked to the young Egyptologist. “Well then, Jacob, what did you do with the mummy?”

   He gave a snort, but his eyes did not meet mine as he replied, “What are you talking about?”

   I told him, “You were the last one at the hotel to see Percy, and you saw him stealing away into the night. The next morning, curious, you went to his room. He wasn’t there, then you went to wadi and you found him, dead at the bottom of the stone stairs. You put Percy’s body in the mummy case, and I know why. You wanted me to come here, you wanted for us to meet, and you wanted to seduce me into funding your own expedition.”

   Jacob broke out into a fit of nervous laughter. “By God, that sounds like pure insanity … but you are right, absolutely right!” He laughed so hard that he coughed. “No, I didn’t kill old Percy, mind you, but I found his body.”

   “What?” cried Alec.

   “Percy stole away after the party had fallen apart, and I saw him meeting Sandy in the lobby, acting a bit queer. He had a parcel, and he darted out. The following morning, I checked in on him, and he wasn’t back in his room. I headed down to the tomb early, while everyone else was sleeping the morning off. I took the short cut, and by God, there was Percy, dead at the bottom of those rock stairs. He’d taken a hell of a tumble.” Jacob started laughing again and choked out the words, “We all knew that you thought you were some sort of sleuth, a bumbling one at that.
Mrs. X,
indeed! It came to me, by God what would she think when the mummy arrives in London and turns out to be a messy corpse!”

   “My God, you are depraved!” hissed Alec.

   Jacob beat his fist on the table and cackled. “I dragged his body into the tomb, put it in the casket, and chucked the real mummy into the vertical shaft.”

   Martha demanded, “Then what happened to Percy, was it an accident?”

   Jacob’s skin was red, and his nervous laughter had concluded. Now, he seemed shocked by his own outburst.

   I asked the bewildered fellow, “When you found the body, did he still have the parcel he had left with?”

   Jacob’s darting eyes narrowed, and slowly, he responded, “No … no, I didn’t see it.”

   “Well, what happened to his body? How did it get out of the sarcophagus?” asked Lucy.

    All the stress in Alec’s face broke, and he blurted out, “I found him, just before the workmen came to pack the sarcophagus. I panicked and hid the body, at first in the back of the tomb, and then I buried him, not far away.”

   Martha mumbled, “Why?” Alec gave her no reply. 

   There was a long moment of stunned silence before I spoke. “If the parcel was missing, I doubt Percy’s death was a mere accident.” I turned to Sandy and remarked, “So many accidents.” But as I spoke, my eyes fell on Hazel.

   At first, the woman gave me a cold glare, but then there was a spark of something manic, a strange smile appeared on her face, and she spoke. “It would seem there is no point in keeping the mystery’s conclusion to myself.”

   All eyes fell on Hazel as she sipped from her tea and gathered her thoughts. “You all want the truth?” Hazel scoffed. “The truth is boring and humdrum.” A sinister smile crept onto her face, and then she spoke once more, “Percy’s death was an accident …”

   Hazel replaced her napkin in her lap, then she looked to me and said, “I had thought that you liked my Monets, but now I realize, they were mere clues to you. I forget how uncultured Americans can be.”

   The insult missed its mark. My low opinion of Hazel rendered her powerless. 

   Hazel began, “My first husband, Bertram, made off with some pilfered art, belonging to his father. We sold some off to help with expenses. Not the Monets, though. Archie told me that one day they’d be valuable, very valuable. Since then, I have learned a bit about art and began dealing in it, as much as I could. You see, well-to-do people don’t care to let on that they need money; they want someone else to act as a discreet agent. And there are others who want antiquities, but they don’t know how to manage the task. That is where I can
guide
them.”

   “Hat Tem!” said Martha.

   “Yes, Hat Tem. He found the cache and was doing his best to make some money without getting caught. He was a clever young man. He knew my reputation, from his sister, and he came to me for advice. It struck me that he should meet up with an archeologist. One with the permits to dig, and then, together, they could ‘find’ the tomb.”

   I gently remarked, “Hat Tem was in your debt.”

   “Indeed,” responded Hazel.

   “But what does that have to do with Percy’s death?” asked Martha.

   “Percy was sent here by Bertram’s father to paint replicas of my Monets and steal away the originals. This job taking photographs was just a set up.

   “After seducing me, which I must admit was a rather easy task, Percy would come to my room, he’d make sketches of me, then we would make love … and I would fall asleep.” She shot Dr. Smith a cold glance. “I think he drugged whatever I had been drinking, and then, while I slept, he sketched the Monets.

   “As a matter of routine, I asked the maids about the contents in his room, and I was told that he had a lot of paint and four canvases. I told them to measure the canvases, and then I knew his intent. When a telegram from Mr. Farber was retrieved from the waste bin, checking on Percy’s progress, all was known to me.”

   She paused to pout. “Day after day, the girls reported back, and the copies were nearly completed. And then he grew bored with me; that’s when his tryst with Martha began.”

   Martha’s head lulled on her neck, and she blurted out, “For Heaven’s sake woman, who killed him?” 

   “Percy vanished from the party, my mood turned, and I went back to my room. I saw at once that my Monets had been switched. Percy was gifted, but the work was lifeless, produced by an amateur. I rushed back to the ballroom. Sandy had just sauntered in, and …” She paused for a moment, as a shadow seemed to pass over her face, “I believe he had switched the art for the fakes and handed them off to Percy. I found Hat Tem, just preparing to depart. I begged him to go after Percy and get back my art.”

   “Oh, dear Lord,” said Arthur.

   “Hat Tem returned to the hotel very early the next morning, with my paintings. I asked what happened; he was shaken up, and all he would tell me was that
it was an accident.
He left me, very upset. That’s when it seems Dr. Smith saw him.” She paused for a moment. “The day came, and everyone said that Percy was missing. I never asked Hat Tem any more about what happened, but it now seems obvious.”

   Martha shook her head. “My dear, it is very convenient for you to accuse a dead man, but how do we know you didn’t follow Percy and push him down the cliff yourself?”

   Lucy objected, “That couldn’t happen. The staff watches her to make sure she doesn’t leave the building …”

   Wilma called out, “Hazel could have disguised herself,” the beady-eyed woman pointed to Arthur, “as a man, just like Fox does!”

   The journalist swallowed hard, and had she an Adam’s apple, it would have bobbed up and down.

   Lucy gave a great gasp, and Hazel made a rather sinister laugh. I had not wanted to expose the journalist’s secret, but alas, the truth was to come out.

   The journalist’s thick Boston accent receded, as she said, “No one takes a woman seriously.” She looked to me. “Maybe a wealthy woman like you feels empowered, but I know what the men were saying about you behind your back.” As if the room melted away, and only the two of us were there, she said, “Think about Hatshepsut and all she did, built temples and monuments, she ruled a kingdom, but it was all taken away from her; even her memory was obliterated. Men—petty, shallow men—afraid of us as their equals …”

   “Well, I’ll be!” said Jacob, quite surprised.

   Everyone studied the journalist, for the first time seeing past her thick glasses, and the shaving nicks she gave herself on purpose. 

   Determined to once more be the center of attention, Hazel gave a great laugh and said, “I can assure you, I did not play masquerade to slip out of the building. I told you the truth. Hat Tem is responsible for Percy’s death.”

   I nodded my agreement, “Yes, of that I am doubtless.” I looked to Jacob. “You found Percy’s body at the bottom of the wadi, and it left an idea in your head, did it not? When it seemed that Hat Tem might no longer be your accomplice, but your adversary, you already had a notion in mind.”

   Jacob gave a little jerk and sighed. “I knew old Alec wouldn’t fink me out, he couldn’t, but Hat Tem, I just couldn’t trust him. He was talking to that damn Gibson. If I didn’t find funds fast, Hat Tem would have let him in on our secret.” 

   “You pushed him down the cliff, to take credit for finding a bunch of antiquities?” asked the oh-so-civilized Sandy in near disbelief.

   Jacob shouted, “For fame!” He shoved back from the table.

   “Jacob!” Alec was aghast. “You are a monster.”

   “Maybe, but I’m not a fool.” Jacob pulled out a gun from his jacket and pointed it at me. “Now, everyone should be silent and remain seated, except for you, Mrs. Stayton.”