The Ape Who Guards the Balance (37 page)

“That’s right, you haven’t seen it.” Ramses got to his feet, and then looked at his father. “May I get it, Father?”

“Certainly, certainly,” said Emerson, chewing the stem of his pipe and scowling.

Walter was full of admiration, not only for the papyrus, but for the container David had designed. The lad flushed under his praise. “We are being very careful, sir,” he explained. “But we felt we ought to make a copy, just in case.”

“Yes, quite,” said Walter. Adjusting his eyeglasses, he bent over the papyrus. I went to have a closer look myself, since the vignette was one I had not seen. Four little blue apes squatted around a pool of water, their paws folded over their rounded bellies.

“The spirits of the dawn,” Walter murmured, his eyes moving down the column of hieroglyphs under the painting. “Who content the gods with the flames of their mouths.”

“Enough,” Emerson broke in. “You can have the photographs, Walter, if you want to translate the cursed thing.”

“I’ll leave it to Ramses, I think,” Walter said. “I doubt the text offers any new material. Well. It is a splendid example of its type, but it is certainly not unique. Could it have some particular religious significance for our postulated cult?”

Evelyn came in and joined the group around the table. “Is this the famous papyrus? What charming little baboons.”

“You look very tired, my dear,” I said. “Sit down and have a cup of tea.”

She shook her head. “It is not so much physical as mental exhaustion. I have had quite a time with Lia. Never have I seen her so unreasonable! And you know, Amelia, that although one becomes extremely exasperated, it is difficult for a mother to refuse a child something she wants so badly.”

Emerson stopped mangling the stem of his pipe and came to life. “I have a compromise to propose.”

The word “compromise,” coming from Emerson, was so astonishing we all stared. Taking this for intense interest, he smiled broadly and elaborated. “You cannot leave for a few more days, in any case. Suppose we give the child a whirlwind tour—Medinet Habu, Deir el Bahri, and all the rest. We will wine her and dine her and wear her out, and send her home, if not rejoicing, at least resigned.”

I had a feeling it would not be so easy as that. The word compromise is almost as unknown to the young as it is to Emerson. However, if it were put to the girl in that way she would have less to complain of.

“You mean you would give up two days’ work?” Walter asked. “You? What a sacrifice!”

“I beg you will not be sarcastic, Walter,” said Emerson with offended dignity. “I certainly don’t intend to let you wander around without me. We will travel in a body, like a confounded bunch of Cook’s tourists and surrounded by—”

“By Daoud,” I said, laughing. “Emerson, it is a splendid compromise. We will dine with the Vandergelts—they would be sorely disappointed not to see you, Walter and Evelyn—and show Lia the Castle, and the
Amelia
and—”

“And Abdullah’s house,” Ramses said. “He would be offended if we did not come for a meal. Daoud has already spoken to me about it. Kadija began cooking yesterday.”

     
(xvi)
    
From Manuscript H

“. . . I brought that child to her death!” Nefret’s voice broke in a sob. Ramses put his arm round her and she turned her face into his shoulder; but there was no way he could console her, not even by taking his fair share of the blame. God knew it had haunted him ever since he had seen the slight broken body and known whose it must be.

“You cannot be certain it was your appeal that was responsible, Nefret. It might have been the reward, or even some private revenge.”

“Not the last. It’s too coincidental and too . . . too horrible. What sort of people are they?”

She wiped her eyes with her fingers. Ramses fumbled in his pockets, and that finally won a tremulous laugh from her.

“Never mind, my boy, you never have a handkerchief. Where’s my bag?”

It was an absurd little thing, made of some shiny cloth and hanging from her wrist by a golden cord. She moved away from him and he lowered his arm. He had that to remember, at least, and the gentleness of her voice when she said, “You don’t fool me, Ramses dear; you aren’t as hardened as you pretend. Come and talk about it before you go to bed.”

When they reached the house Sir Edward was there, bland and smiling as usual. The discussion that followed was typical of their family talks—full of sound and fury (most of it from his father) but surprisingly productive in the end. Two days of uninterrupted sight-seeing and entertainment would have to suffice, and if Lia didn’t like it (he was fairly sure she wouldn’t) she would have to lump it.

Ramses knew why his father was willing to take the time. He would sacrifice two days in order to have them out of the way when he went after the murderers. The girl’s death had been the last straw for Emerson. Ramses had seen that look on his father’s face before, and he knew what it portended.

Once they had agreed, his mother ordered them all off to bed. Ramses, putting the papyrus into its container, was the last to leave the room, or so he believed until he saw his father standing in the doorway.

“Yes, sir?” he inquired, wondering if he would ever be old enough to abandon that form of address.

“I thought you might need a bit of help with that,” his father said. “How is your hand?”

“It’s all right, sir. I could leave off the cursed bandage anytime if Nefret would allow me.”

“She takes good care of you boys. And you of her.”

“We try. It is damned difficult. You know how she is.”

“I have had years of experience dealing with determined females,” his father said with a faint smile. “But we wouldn’t—er—care so much for them if they were not like that, would we?”

“Love” was the word he meant. Why couldn’t he say it? Ramses wondered. Presumably he said it to his wife.

“No,” he agreed.

“Er—you managed to spare her a most distressing scene tonight. It was—er—distressing for you too. And for David. Well done, both of you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Good night, my boy.”

“Good night, sir.”

David had refused to wait outside the dirty little room where the girl’s body lay. He had stood at Ramses’s side when the worn sheet was pulled back and he had waited, swallowing down the bile that kept rising in his throat, until Ramses was ready to go.

But when Ramses went later to Nefret’s door, he heard David’s voice, low-pitched and intense, and he left without knocking. That night he killed David again, digging his fingers deep into his friend’s throat and smashing his head against the stone floor. He woke with a strangled cry and lay sleepless until dawn, with his murderer’s hands covering his face.

:

B
reakfast was not a pleasant occasion, despite my efforts to be cheery. Walter kept shooting apologetic glances at his daughter, Ramses looked like a ghost and David like a man with some guilty secret on his conscience—though I could not imagine what it might be, since the poor boy was one of the most harmless individuals I had ever known. From time to time a spasm of rage distorted Emerson’s handsome face, and I knew he was picturing endless processions of Mr. Davis’s clumsy-footed friends bumbling into the burial chamber of the new tomb. At least our plan would keep Emerson away from the Valley, which was all to the good.

Lia had been informed of that plan by her parents in the privacy of their room. According to Evelyn—who was looking worn and unhappy—she had taken it more quietly than they had expected. I had my forebodings, however. Lia did not in the least resemble her uncle, but that morning there was something strangely familiar about the set of her chin.

Sir Edward put himself out to be charming, however, and between his efforts and mine the atmosphere gradually improved. We were to spend the whole day away, starting at the temples of the Ramesseum and Medinet Habu and working our way back to Gurneh, where we had been invited to lunch with Abdullah and his family.

I will not bore the Reader with descriptions of the sights of Luxor. They can be found, not only in my earlier volumes, but in Baedeker. To say we had become blasé about them would not be entirely accurate, for I will never tire of any monument in Egypt; but I believe our pleasure derived primarily from that of Lia. The joy of the present overcame her dread of the future; face flushed, curls bouncing, she took everything in with the appreciation of a dedicated student. I had not realized how intensively she had applied herself to her studies during the past year. Evelyn had told me David had kindly agreed to tutor the child over the past summer. He had been an excellent teacher. She knew the names and the complicated history of the sites; and the glow on her face when she traced the cartouche of Ramses II with a reverent finger, and read off the hieroglyphs, made me regret even more the peculiar circumstances that must curtail her visit. How well I remembered the thrill that had pervaded my entire being when I first beheld the reality of the pyramids and penetrated the dim interiors of those admirable monuments! Well, we would make it up to her another year.

Our visit with Abdullah was an unqualified success all round. The house was decorated as if for a wedding, with flowers and palm branches, and Kadija had prepared enough food for twenty people. Lia ate of every dish and tried to sit cross-legged like Nefret. Her attempts to talk Arabic brought a smile even to Abdullah’s dignified face. She treated the dear old fellow with an anxious deference that was very engaging. She was not at all self-conscious about mispronunciations and bad grammar, and managed to make her meaning understood.

As she had done with Daoud, I thought, glancing at that individual’s beaming face. He had a heart as large as his body, and now he had found someone else to love.

After we had finished, the men went outside to fahddle, so that we could spend a little time with Kadija. She said very little—apparently Nefret was the only one to whom she told her jokes!—but it was evident that she too had enjoyed the visit.

We stopped on the way home to see a few of the nobles’ tombs. Lia would have gone on indefinitely, but I thought Evelyn looked tired, so I reminded the others that we were to dine with Cyrus and Katherine that evening.

“Quite a full day,” said Emerson, drawing me apart.

“In every sense of the word.” I patted my stomach. “I doubt I will be able to eat a thing tonight. But the child is enjoying herself. What a pity she must leave so soon. Is it really necessary, Emerson?”

“Better safe than sorry, Peabody.” He smiled at me. “I can quote aphorisms too, you see.”

“What did Abdullah tell you?”

“Curse it, Peabody, I hate it when you read my mind that way.”

“It is your face I read, my dear. I know every lineament of it. And yours is not a countenance that lends itself to deception.”

“Hmph,” said Emerson. “Well, I intended to tell you anyhow. The body has been officially identified, thanks to Ramses’s insistence that the police question the—er—proprietress of the house. They would not have bothered if he had not demanded it, and she would not have come forward of her own accord.”

“It was the girl Nefret meant?”

“Impossible to determine, Peabody. There were several of a—a young age.”

His steed snorted and I saw that his hands were clenched on the reins. “Sorry,” said Emerson—to the horse. To me he said, “The only way of being certain would be for Nefret to inspect the girls.”

“Out of the question, Emerson!”

“I quite agree, my dear. There is at least a strong suspicion that it was the same girl. Was she murdered because she was trying to escape that hellish den, or because she knew something about Layla, or—for some other reason?”

“We will find out, Emerson.”

“Yes, my dear Peabody, we will.”

It was a vow, and I knew he would keep it. I also knew I would have to watch him closely once the younger Emersons had departed. My dear Emerson is inclined to be reckless when his emotions are aroused.

The Vandergelts had hoped to give a large reception in honor of our visitors, but in view of the brevity of their stay the party that evening was small—only Sir Edward and Howard Carter in addition to ourselves. The others had heard of the latest murder, for news, especially grisly news, spreads quickly, but the topic was avoided out of consideration for the youthful innocence of Lia. (At one time Howard would have extended the same consideration to Nefret, but he had learned better.)

So we talked of Mr. Davis’s tomb instead. It is a rare pleasure to be in the company of individuals who are as well informed about and interested in a subject as oneself. Lia was not as well informed as the rest of us, but her eager questions inspired the gentlemen to elaborate and explain, which gentlemen always enjoy doing.

Howard, who had not yet been inside the tomb, was mightily intrigued by our description of the coffin. “Who else can it be but Akhenaton himself? Oh, yes, I know he had a tomb at Amarna, but his mummy wasn’t there; after the city was abandoned, the royal dead may have been moved to Thebes for safekeeping.”

“Possibly,” Emerson agreed. “But there are a number of pharaohs of that period missing. How is that you haven’t been asked to participate in the so-called clearance, Carter? You’ve worked for Davis before; I would have thought he’d ask you to make drawings or paintings of some of the objects in situ.”

“I’d give a great deal to be allowed to do that,” Howard declared. “But—well—Mr. Smith is an artist and a close friend of Mr. Davis; I suppose he’ll be asked.”

“He hasn’t your touch,” Nefret said.

“So long as someone does it,” Emerson muttered. “Thus far Davis hasn’t done a cursed thing about copying or preserving the objects. Supervision is criminally inadequate too. Keep your eye on the antiquities dealers, Carter, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if objects from the tomb start turning up in Luxor.”

“Nor would I,” Howard said. “I was talking with Mohassib the other day . . .” He broke off long enough to explain, “He is the most respected of the antiquities dealers in Luxor, Miss Lia, been in business for over thirty years. He asked to be remembered to you, Mrs. Emerson. He’s been ill, you know, and I think he’d appreciate a visit.”