Part 14 (2/2)

”There is one thing that worries me,” Nefret said, cutting Emerson off on the brink of an explosion. ”Justin. If she is here, he will come again. You saw how he was with the children.”

”He was charming,” Lia said. ”And they obviously like him.”

”Oh, he's charming,” Nefret said. ”And utterly irresponsible. If he enticed them to go with him, for a walk or a game, he might have one of his attacks, or wander off and leave them.”

Ramses spoke with unusual heat. ”Nefret, that couldn't possibly happen. Even if he visits us again-which he is as likely to do whether she is here or not-no one would be fool enough to leave him alone with any of the children, or let him take them from the house.”

”Quite right,” I declared.

In fact, Maryam's reappearance had disturbed me more than I wanted to admit. Yet-I a.s.sured myself-what reason had I to mistrust the girl? During our brief acquaintance with her she had been a nuisance, headstrong and undisciplined, but never a danger. Her father believed that after she fled from him she had found a masculine protector, but even if it was true, she was more to be pitied than censured.

”Never a dull moment,” I declared cheerfully. ”Now I suggest we all get ready for our guests.”

By the time the Vandergelts arrived I had bathed and changed, and written out a telegram. Emerson had insisted on seeing it before I sent it off.

”I did not want to be explicit,” I explained, handing it over. ”Sethos's colleague Smith, who promised to pa.s.s on messages, is not the sort of individual to be trusted with such painfully personal information.”

”He has used it against us before,” Emerson muttered. ”Hmmm. Well, this should be all right. 'Missing person found. Come at once if possible.' I will send Ali across to the telegraph office.”

With that matter taken care of I was able to greet our guests with a mind at ease and a smiling countenance. The evening had turned chilly, so we gathered in the sitting room instead of on the veranda.

”Hope we're not too early,” Cyrus said, for Evelyn and I were the only members of the family present.

”No, the others are late,” I said in mild vexation. ”I do apologize. I try my best to inculcate proper manners, but sometimes I think it is a hopeless ch.o.r.e, especially with Emerson.”

”And Walter,” his wife said with a smile. ”I expect he decided to steal a few minutes with his texts. When he is involved with a tricky translation I sometimes have to shake him to get his attention.”

Lia and David entered, closely followed by Nefret. Ramses was conspicuous by his absence, and I observed that Nefret's brow bore faint lines of worry or annoyance. ”I am so sorry,” she began.

”Not at all,” Katherine said graciously. ”Were the children restless tonight?”

”Ours were,” David replied. ”We took them to Abdullah's tomb this afternoon. They couldn't stop talking about it. Dolly wanted to hear every story I could remember about my grandfather, and Evvie asked the most outrageous questions-”

”She is only two,” Lia expostulated. ”I don't see what was so outrageous about them.”

” 'Do all dead people look like the ones in Uncle Radcliffe's books?' ” David was obviously quoting.

”Good heavens,” Katherine exclaimed. ”Has he been showing those poor children photographs of mummies?”

”I strictly forbade him to do that,” I said indignantly.

”It doesn't seem to have bothered them,” David said.

”What did you tell Evvie?” I asked.

”I said no, they didn't. And changed the subject before she could inquire further,” David added with a laugh.

I decided I would do the same, for I did not want to fall into the error of some doting females, who a.s.sume that others enjoy an entire evening of stories about their grandchildren.

”We had an interesting visitor this afternoon,” I said. ”Katherine, do you remember a young person called Molly Hamilton?”

Katherine nodded. ”That spoiled child who raised such a fuss when her uncle wanted to-” She broke off, her green eyes narrowing. ”Major Hamilton's niece . . . but he wasn't . . . He was . . .”

”Not Major Hamilton,” I said. ”And she was not his niece. She was his daughter. And still is.”

They listened to my brief summary in fascinated silence. ”The plot thickens,” said Cyrus, shaking his head. ”What are you going to do about her?”

”Take her into the bosom of the family, of course,” said Emerson from the doorway. ”As my-er-other brother once remarked, it is Amelia's habit to adopt every unfortunate innocent she comes across, by force if necessary.”

”You are very late, Emerson,” I said reproachfully. ”Really, it is a shame! And have you been showing those children pictures of disgusting mummies, after I strictly forbade . . . after I requested that you refrain from doing so?”

Not at all discomposed by this double-barreled attack, Emerson addressed a general smile and mumble of greeting at our guests and went at once to the sideboard, where he began pouring from various decanters. He had not abandoned the argument, however. Over his shoulder he remarked, ”I am not the latest, my dear. Ramses and Walter are still to come.”

”That only makes it worse, Emerson. Why don't you go and find them?”

”Such a fuss about nothing,” said Emerson, handing me a gla.s.s. ”There you are, Peabody; drink your whiskey and behave yourself. I hear them coming now.”

They came in together, so absorbed in conversation that I verily believe Walter was unaware of his surroundings until Ramses, who had him firmly by the arm, brought him to a stop and directed his attention to the others.

”I say, I am sorry,” Walter exclaimed, blinking. ”Have we kept you waiting? It is entirely my fault. I came across a particularly fascinating text, and wanted to consult Ramses about one or two obscure words. It seems to be-”

”Sit down, Walter, and be quiet,” said Emerson amiably. ”No one wants to hear about your obscure philological interests. Vandergelt, I was surprised not to see you at Deir el Medina in recent days. Are you abandoning your part of the concession?”

”Don't get your hopes up,” said Cyrus, stroking his goatee. ”Those tombs are mine, and I'll be back at work pretty soon. We've been busy.”

”Doing what?” Emerson demanded in honest surprise.

Fatima announced dinner and we withdrew to the dining room. Cyrus began explaining to Emerson in a somewhat indignant voice that the preservation and recording of the treasures of the G.o.d's Wives took precedence over other activities at this time-facts Emerson knew perfectly well, but preferred to ignore because he had his own plans.

The only thing I have against large parties is that it is impossible to keep track of everything that is being said. We are-I say it without apology-a wordy lot, and since we are also an intelligent lot, our conversations are worth listening to. Even Bertie had perked up and was talking animatedly to Lia. (I had seated him next to her, since she was less likely to interrupt him than some of the others.) Then I heard an isolated phrase and realized he was extolling the virtues of his absent beloved, Jumana.

Not until the end of the meal did the discussion become general. It was a comment of Emerson's, delivered in his usual ringing tones, that caught everyone's attention.

”I see no reason why we should do anything about it.”

”About what?” I inquired.

Emerson had addressed Ramses, who took it upon himself to answer me. ”About the attack on Molly-Maryam-this afternoon. I suggested to Father that we must make an attempt to locate her a.s.sailant.”

”Right,” Cyrus agreed. ”We can't have that sort of thing going on. With all respect to your theories, Amelia, the most likely explanation is that the fellow is demented. He may attack other tourists. How do you propose to go about it?”

”For one thing, the police must be notified,” Ramses said, over Emerson's grumbles. ”And Father is the one to do it. They'll listen to him. I also suggest offering a reward, starting with our fellows tomorrow morning. They know everyone on the West Bank and they will spread the word.”

”That makes sense,” I agreed. ”Emerson?”

”Oh, curse it, I suppose I must,” Emerson muttered.

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