The Hippopotamus Pool (26 page)

Evelyn stood by, glancing from me to the door. "How long—"

"I have no idea, my dear," I replied. "Curse it! This is proving more difficult than I had expected. I ought to have asked Ramses to give me a lesson."

"Perhaps," Evelyn said timidly, "you might allow me to try."

I sat back on my heels and stared at her in surprise. Blushing, she continued, "Ramses always enjoys showing me his new skills. No, dear Amelia, I do not know how he acquired this one and I thought it wiser not to ask."

I handed her the hairpins, and watched interestedly as she deftly opened the locks.

She left the task of searching the cases to me. I carefully inspected each garment in turn. Searching a case or drawer without leaving evidence of that activity takes a certain knack—and a good deal of time.

"What are you looking for?" Evelyn asked.

"I have not the least idea. But I am sure I will recognize it when I see it."

I emptied and repacked one case without finding anything out of the way except a remarkable and voluminous garment of thin crimson silk embroidered with ancient Egyptian symbols. My understanding of human psychology reminded me that people who are shy and modest in public often indulge in romantic fantasies when alone. The robe was not evidence of guilt, nor were the books on Eastern religion. I had already deduced from her conversation that she had a leaning toward esoteric philosophies.

"Hurry," Evelyn begged.

"I am making as much haste as I dare, Evelyn. Lock the first case again, will you please, while I examine the second?"

The second case contained a number of interesting items, including the source of the strange scent—sticks of incense and a bronze holder for them. Most informative of all was a slim volume wrapped reverently in a square of gold velvet.

"Well!" I exclaimed. "This explains a number of things, including those questions on Egyptian religion Emerson enjoyed answering so much. The confounded woman is a Theosophist, Evelyn! This is a copy of
Isis Unveiled,
by Madame Blavatsky, the founder of the Theosophical Society."

"Is it a secret society, Amelia?" Evelyn inquired hopefully.

"I am afraid not, my dear. It is a perfectly harmless if fuzzy-minded blend of Indian philosophy and occultism. Dear me, what a disappointment. Perhaps Miss Marmaduke is innocent after all—of everything except gullibility."

"Are you satisfied, Amelia?" Evelyn asked uneasily. "They will be returning shortly, and it would be very embarrassing to be caught."

"My dear, we will have ample warning. Emerson's ordinary speaking voice is audible at a considerable distance, not to mention the shouts that will probably herald his arrival."

Knowing this to be true I was not at all worried about being caught redhanded, and I completed the search without haste and without result.

"Curse it," I exclaimed. "She must be guilty; no innocent person can lead a life so free of harmless vice! No love letters, no bottles of liquor, not even a hidden box of chocolates. But I suppose some would consider a belief in the occult to be a vice, of an intellectual nature at least."

I subjected the room to an intense visual survey. I had overlooked nothing; every inch had been inspected. Except .. .

I snatched up the pair of boots that stood at the foot of the bed, turned them upside down and shook them vigorously. Had it not been for the shaking, the little cardboard box would have gone undiscovered. It had been wedged into the narrowest part of the toe.

I untied the string and removed the top. Cotton wool filled the box and told me I must proceed gently; a gleam of gold gave me a premonition of what I would find. It was the ring I had first seen on the finger of Mr. Shelmadine—the jewel bearing the cartouche of Queen Tetisheri, which had disappeared from our sitting room on the night he vanished from mortal ken.

After luncheon, which was served on the upper deck, we dispersed. Emerson, of course, went back to the tomb, taking Sir Edward and the children with him. Since Gertrude had finished her packing, I accompanied her and the younger Emersons across to Luxor so that the exchange of accommodations could be made and some necessary shopping completed.

There had been no opportunity for Evelyn and me to discuss the astonishing discovery of the ring. Warned by Emerson's hail, we had barely time to conceal the evidences of our visit and beat a hasty retreat. When Gertrude joined us on the deck she had changed her clothing and was wearing the boots. If she had noticed anything amiss she showed no signs of it. I wondered what she had done with the ring. She could not be wearing it on a chain around her neck; I would have observed the bulge.

When we reached the hotel I went with her to her room to study the arrangements, in case I wanted, on some future occasion, to drop in uninvited. It was quite satisfactory—on the second floor, with a small balcony and a most convenient vine not far from it.

Gertrude was kind enough to approve of the accommodations, but seemed reluctant to let me go.

"Don't you want me to return with you and resume the children's lessons? It has been almost a week since—"

"They will not be in a fit state of mind to concentrate on English literature this evening," I said impatiently. "Discipline is one thing, Gertrude, unreasonable expectation is quite another. I will send someone to fetch you tomorrow morning, or perhaps you could accompany Sir Edward. That would probably be best. He will notify you of the time and place when he returns this evening."

She looked as if she would have objected, though I could not imagine to what—being forced to share a boat, unchaperoned, with a personable young man? Bidding her good afternoon, I left.

Shopping took hardly any time, since the shops of Luxor offer little tothe traveler except antiquities, spurious and genuine. The most sensible course of action would have been for Walter to return to Cairo, where European goods are readily available, but this he stubbornly refused to do, so in the end I was forced to telegraph and hope that my friend Mrs. Wilson would be able to approximate Walter's sizes in trousers and boots.

When we returned to the dinghy with our few purchases, the sun hung low over the western cliffs and sunset colors spread across the rippling water. I looked forward to the moment when I could dismiss Walter—for a bath, a rest, anything—and converse privately with Evelyn, but it was not to be. The others arrived from the dig at the same time we reached the
Amelia.

Hat in hand, Sir Edward drew me aside. He had got in the habit of dining with us; now he announced his intention of returning at once to the hotel. "You will want to be en famille this evening, Mrs. Emerson. Don't go to the trouble of sending the dinghy for me tomorrow, I will just take the ferry and go straight to the excavation."

It was a graceful, gentlemanly gesture, and I said as much. "Perhaps you would not mind bringing Miss Marmaduke with you tomorrow, Sir Edward."

"Not at all. I might—with your permission, of course—ask her to have dinner with me this evening. She seems very shy and timid; perhaps I can reassure her."

I was about to reply when Emerson emerged from the corridor leading to the cabins. "Amelia! What the devil are you doing? I am waiting for you."

Sir Edward removed himself and I attempted to calm Emerson by reporting the conversation.

"Hmph," said Emerson, leading me to our room. "So he has turned his attentions to Miss Marmaduke, has he?"

"Would that were the case, Emerson."

"Why, Peabody, you shock me!" His good humor restored, Emerson knelt and began to unlace my boots. (He is given to such boyishly sentimental gestures in private.) "Surely you wouldn't turn a worldly libertine like Sir Edward loose on a timid spinster."

"If she were a timid spinster, such an experience would do her a world of good." Emerson chuckled, and I went on, "But Miss Marmaduke is not what she seems, Emerson. I am not certain whether that dinner will be a conference between co-conspirators or a fencing match between rivals, but it was clever of him to make the suggestion openly, for most people would take it as you just did."

"He is a clever fellow," Emerson agreed. "But not, perhaps, as diabolically clever as you believe. We may be imagining enemies where noneexist, Peabody. And now that we have found the tomb, even Riccetti may have given up."

"Are you suggesting that we refrain from telling Evelyn and Walter about the earlier attacks, the mysterious circumstances, the—"

"Yes, curse it, I am. Why alarm them unnecessarily?"

He took my bare feet into his big brown hands and looked up at me with a smile.

"Had I believed concern was unnecessary I would not have told Evelyn," I said.

Emerson unceremoniously let go my feet and rose. "I might have known. All right, Peabody, you got in ahead of me, as usual, and I suppose Ramses has been talking too. I sometimes wonder what it would be like to be the respected patriarch of an ordinary English family."

"Very boring, Emerson."

Emerson's scowl turned to a reluctant grin. "Right again, Peabody. Come up to the saloon when you have changed, I will have the whiskey ready."

We had our whiskey, Walter and Emerson and I; Ramses demanded his share—"By the laws of Islam, Judaism and several Nubian tribes, I will soon be a man, Father"—but it was a rather mechanical performance, since he did not expect the speech would have any more effect on this occasion than it had had previously. Night had fallen; stars glimmered in the dark depths of heaven, the breeze carried the soft sounds of lapping water and the mystical aroma of Egypt.

I was beginning to regret having been so quick to take Evelyn into my confidence. She looked very frail and ridiculously youthful that evening, her fair hair falling loose over her shoulders, held only by a scarf. Walter was in worse case, his face scorched by the sun and his movements as stiff as those of a rheumaticky old gentleman. A few weeks of ordinary archaeological activity would toughen him and do him good, but our archaeological activities were seldom ordinary, and this year's dig promised to be even more perilous. I could only pray that our well-meant attempt to assist our dear ones had not endangered their lives.

Not while we are on the job, I told myself, with an affectionate glance at Emerson's resolute profile and stalwart frame. I dismissed my forebodings and addressed Walter.

"Loath though I am to cast a shadow over this joyful meeting, Walter, I must warn you and Evelyn of what has happened. It is a rather long story—"

Smiling, Walter interrupted me. "I daresay yours would not be as lengthy as was Ramses's version. No doubt, dear sister, your interpretation of those events differs from his, but you need not repeat the facts themselves."

"Amelia's interpretations generally differ from everybody's else's,"

Emerson said. "In the beginning, I admit, we were the subject of certain— er—attentions. All of them were designed to prevent us from locating the tomb. Now that we have found it there is no reason for those attentions to continue."

He took out his pipe, with the air of a man who has said the last word and does not intend to permit discussion.

Ramses cleared his throat. "With respect, Father, that hypothesis fails to explain certain of the—er—attentions. The most curious of them was the visit of Mr. Shelmadine and his subsequent disappearance. He must have known his hints of ancient cults and reincarnation would enrage rather than persuade you, and if the ring was not genuine, he went to a great deal of expense and trouble to have it made."

Evelyn gave me a questioning glance. I shook my head. This was not the moment to mention our recent discovery. I intended to save it for the final stroke that would demolish Emerson's skepticism and force him to admit I had been right all along.

"He was a madman," Emerson said shortly. "Egyptology inspires lunatic theories."

"True," Walter agreed. "But it is something of a coincidence, isn't it, that the fellow should turn up with that particular lunatic theory shortly after you had decided to search for that particular tomb?"

Emerson was beginning to lose his temper. Quickened breathing prevented him from speaking in time to prevent me from anticipating him.

"It is the other way round, Walter," I explained. "Emerson did intend to work at the Seventeenth Dynasty cemetery, but it was not until after Mr. Shelmadine's visit that he began to fit the other clues into place. Now, Emerson, don't deny it; you said it yourself. 'Someone has found Tetisheri's tomb. It is the only hypothesis that accounts for all this agitated activity.' "

"No sensible hypothesis accounts for Shelmadine," Emerson said furiously. "His visit was a coincidence."

"And his death was another coincidence?" I said. "The body has been identified, Emerson."

Emerson drew a long, shaken breath. "And how do you know that, Amelia? Confound it, have you been in communication with the Cairo police? How did you—"

"As you know, my dear, Sir Eldon Gorst is an old friend. He responded to my telegram a few days ago. Shelmadine was identified by ..."

I paused. I do not often tease my dear Emerson, but this time the temptation was irresistible.