I took it upon myself to reply to the implicit and undeserved criticism. "It was necessary, monsieur. The wood of which three of the coffins were made was dry and brittle and many of the inlays were loose. Before they could be moved they were stabilized, inside and out, with a compound of Signor Martinelli's invention. You see the results, which are, in my opinion, quite excellent."

"Yes, of course," Lacau said. "I see you have resisted the temptation to unwrap the ladies," he went on, with a nod at Nefret. "You have had, I believe, some experience."

"She is a trained surgeon and anatomist," I said indignantly. "No one could do a better-"

"Naturally I wouldn't dream of touching them without your permission, Monsieur Lacau," Nefret said quickly. "Nor in fact would I like to see it done. The wrappings are in perfect condition, and the mummies have been undisturbed since they were placed in their coffins-unlike all the other royal mummies we have. It would be a sin to rip them apart."

"You feel strongly about this, madame," Lacau said, stroking his beard. "But what of the ornaments, the amulets, the jewels, that are unquestionably to be found on the bodies?"

"We have many beautiful pieces of jewelry," Nefret explained. "We don't know what condition the mummies themselves are in, or what lies under those bandages. In the present state of our knowledge we may not be able to learn all that can be learned from those poor remains, or preserve them undamaged for future scholars whose knowledge will certainly be greater than ours."

"A moving plea, madame," said Lacau with a patronizing smile.

Nefret flushed but kept her temper. "What I would like to do is subject them to X-ray examination."

"The Museum does not have the equipment."

"But I do-that is to say, my hospital in Cairo does. Mr. Grafton Elliot Smith carried the mummy of Thutmose the Fourth to a private clinic to have it X-rayed, if you recall."

"By cab, yes. Somewhat undignified and inconvenient."

"We could do better than that," Nefret said eagerly. "A proper ambulance-"

"Well, it is an interesting suggestion. I will think about it."

Nefret had the good sense to thank him and pretend to be grateful for even that degree of consideration. She was accustomed to being patronized by men of a certain kind-most men, I would say, if that were not an unfair generalization. (Whether or not it is unfair I will leave to the judgment of the Reader.) Lacau inspected the laboratory, but not for long; a medley of pungent odors suggested that Martinelli was trying several chemicals on various pieces of linen and wood. Cyrus then proudly displayed "his" records and generously admitted that they were the result of our joint labors. They were, if I may say so, a model of their kind-photographs, plans, sketches, detailed written descriptions-all cross-indexed and filed. We then returned to the display rooms for a final look.

"I can see that I must give the matter some thought," Lacau said, sweeping the a.s.semblage with a possessive eye. "I would like to place the objects on display at once, and we must consider how we are to find the s.p.a.ce. I had not realized there would be so much."

Cyrus's face fell. Lacau appeared not to notice; he went on, "Now I must bid you good evening, my friends. Thank you for your splendid hospitality and for a most astonishing experience."

After we had seen him off we lingered to cheer Cyrus, who had put the most depressing interpretation possible on Lacau's words.

"He can't take everything," Emerson insisted. "Don't borrow trouble, Vandergelt, as my wife would say. Curse it, he owes you for your time and effort and expenditure, not to mention Bertie's claim as the finder."

"I thought you supported the idea that all major objects should remain in Egypt," Cyrus said in surprise. "You handed over the whole contents of Tetisheri's tomb to the Museum."

"It isn't a simple issue," Emerson said, taking out his pipe. "Archaeologists and collectors have been looting the country of its antiquities for decades, and the Egyptians haven't had any voice in the matter. With nationalist sentiment on the rise-"

"Yes, but what about preserving the objects?" Cyrus cried in genuine anguish. "The Museum hasn't the facilities or the staff."

"Well, whose fault is that?" demanded Emerson, who was quite happy to argue on any side of any issue-and change sides whenever he felt like it. "It's a question of money, pure and simple, and who determined how it was disbursed? Politicians like Cromer and Cecil. They never gave a curse about maintaining the Museum, or hiring and training Egyptians to staff it, or paying them enough to-"

"Excuse me, Emerson, but we have all heard that speech before," I said politely but firmly. "We must hope that M. Lacau will be reasonable."

"I just wish he'd make up his consarned mind," Cyrus grumbled. "It's the suspense that's killing me."

When we took our leave I looked round for Signor Martinelli, to no avail. "He might at least have said good night before retiring," I remarked.

"He hasn't gone to bed," Cyrus said. "He's off to Luxor again."

"At this hour?"

"What he does in Luxor can be best accomplished at this hour," said Emerson. He and Cyrus exchanged meaningful glances.

I had heard the stories too, since I have many friends in Luxor, and gossip is a favorite sport. Realizing that Emerson was about to enlarge on the subject of Luxor's disreputable places of entertainment, I took my family away.

We had lingered long over the inspection and it was very late before we reached home; but so overpowering had been the impressions of the evening that we were unable to stop discussing them. The four of us settled on the veranda for a final whiskey and soda. I was a trifle surprised when Nefret accepted a gla.s.s; she seldom indulged in spirits. I realized she must have been nervous too, probably about her precious mummies. She had taken more wine at dinner than was her custom.

"His failure to drop even a hint was quite mean-spirited, in my opinion," I said.

"I suspect he was somewhat overcome," Ramses said thoughtfully. "What the devil is he going to do with it all? They will have to rearrange or store a good many of the current exhibits to make room for it-construct display cases-pack everything properly-"

"They? It will be we who pack the objects," I said. "We cannot trust anyone else to do it. Oh dear. I do not look forward to that task. I used bales of cotton wool and every sc.r.a.p of cotton and linen stuff I could find when we wrapped the artifacts to be moved from the tomb to the Castle. And I have the direst forebodings about that lovely robe. No matter what packing materials we use, I doubt it will survive the journey."

"We'll have a replica made," Nefret said. She finished her whiskey and then chuckled. "I've had a vicious idea. Next time we're in that room I will lose my balance and fall heavily against the table. If the linen shatters into sc.r.a.ps, as I suspect it will, perhaps M. Lacau will let us keep the ornamentation."

"My dear, you are becoming silly," I said with a fond smile. "Fatigue, I expect. Trot off to bed."

"I'd settle for some of the jewelry," Nefret said, giving Ramses her hand and letting him lift her to her feet. "The gold-and-garnet snake bracelet, and the one with strips of lapis lazuli and gold, and the head of Hathor . . . Mother, don't you think a man who truly loved his wife would make an effort to get those trinkets for her? They say they would bring the moon and stars down from the sky and fling them in our laps, but when we ask for a simple little gold bracelet-"

"She's not tired, she's had too much to drink," Ramses said with a grin. He put his arm round his wife's gently swaying form. "Come along, you shameless hussy."

"Carry me." She looked up at him. Her face was flushed and her lips were parted.

I heard his breath catch. He picked her up and carried her out. For once neither of them bothered to bid us good night.

Emerson gave me a long considering look. "I can't recall ever seeing you tipsy, Peabody."

"And you," I retorted, for I knew quite well what was on his mind, "have never offered to fling the moon and the stars into my lap."

Emerson's reply was a rather clever but fairly vulgar play on words, which I will not record. Sometime later he said drowsily, "I could manage a gold bracelet or two, if you like."

It was rather odd, really-that we should have mentioned the bracelets, I mean. For it was those pieces that vanished between night and morning, together with Signor Martinelli.

CHAPTER TWO

We were apprised of the distressing development by one of Cyrus's servants bearing a message from that gentleman. It implored our presence, in a handwriting made almost undecipherable by agitation. Since it was Friday, the day of rest and prayer for our men, we had breakfasted later than was our habit, en famille, including the children. The dear little things insisted on feeding themselves, to the merriment of their grandfather and the resigned acceptance of their grandmother. It was one occasion on which the cats willingly joined us, since there was usually quite a lot of food on the floor-and on the table, and on us. For the same reason Sennia did not join us. Fond as she was of the darling children, she was extremely fastidious in her dress and did not appreciate the generosity that flung orange sections and b.u.t.tered bread onto her impeccable lap.

When Fatima opened the door I took the note from her, since Emerson was rather sticky with jam, Davy having unexpectedly pressed a bit of lavishly spread toast into his hand.

A vehement cry of "Good Gad!" burst from my lips.

"Don't swear in front of the children," Emerson said, trying surrept.i.tiously to hide the squashed offering in his napkin. "What is the matter?"

"The jewelry of the G.o.d's Wives. It has disappeared, and so has Signor Martinelli."

"What?" Emerson bounded up from his chair. "Impossible!"

"Only too true, however. Cyrus always goes up to the display room first thing in the morning-to gloat, I suppose, and who can blame him? Not all of it is missing, I gather, only two or three of the bracelets and a pendant, but-"

"That's bad enough," Ramses said. His eyebrows, as heavy and dark as those of his father, tilted up at the corners as they did when he was extremely surprised or concerned. "M. Lacau will hold Cyrus responsible for every item. Has Martinelli left the house?"

"So Cyrus says. He asks us to come at once."

"We must certainly do so," Ramses said. "No, thank you, Davy, you eat the rest of your egg, I've already had mine."

"I'll come too, of course," Nefret said.

We were not soon under way, since removing the children and settling them in the nursery with their attendants took some time, and Emerson had to change his trousers, and the horses had to be saddled. Sennia wanted to come along, but I fended her off. This occasioned protest from Sennia, who was inclined to forget when thwarted that she was ten years of age and "almost grown up." In my opinion, the fewer people who knew, the better, at least in our present state of uncertainty.

For once Cyrus did not meet us at the door. He and Katherine and Bertie were in the display room, engaged in a frantic, and I did not doubt repet.i.tive, search. It was also a futile search. There was no way in which the missing objects could have been accidentally misplaced. The emptiness of the s.p.a.ces where they had reposed was only too conspicuous.

This was apparent to me at a glance, and I immediately set about restoring my agitated friends to a sensible appraisal of the situation.

"We must discuss this calmly," I declared. "Cyrus, stop rushing around, it won't get you anywhere and you may damage something. What precisely is missing?"

Bertie replied, since his stepfather could only stare blankly at me. "Three bracelets-the best of the lot-and the pendant with the two crowned cobras."

"Nothing else?"

"No. That was my first concern, and I a.s.sure you, I have been through the entire inventory."

I gave him an approving smile. "Well done, Bertie. I have always admired your cool head. Then let us retire and have a little council of war."

Naturally all agreed. We settled down in Katherine's charmingly appointed sitting room. At my suggestion she ordered tea and coffee to be brought, for, as I pointed out, it was necessary to preserve an appearance of normalcy. The servants were then dismissed and I began my questioning.

I fancy I conducted the investigation as competently as any police officer could have done. My surmise, that Cyrus had discovered the theft early that morning in the course of his customary inspection of the treasure, was correct. Thinking that Martinelli might have removed the jewelry for further consolidation, he had searched the laboratory without result and then, his distress growing, he had rushed to the Italian's room, only to find that his bed had not been slept in and that he was not in the house.

"Let us not jump to conclusions," I said. "He may have spent the night in Luxor on-er-business of his own. Are his clothes and other personal belongings still in his room?"

"What the devil difference does that make?" Cyrus cried wildly. "Wherever he is, he has the jewelry. He is the only other person who has a key to that room. I locked it last night-you saw me do it-and it was locked this morning."

"It is a good thing I sent the servants away," I said severely. "Cyrus, I hope and trust that in your agitation you did not let slip the fact that some of the jewelry is missing."

"I'm not that big a fool," Cyrus snapped. "They know I was looking for Martinelli, though."

"His disappearance, if it is that and not simply delay, cannot be concealed from them," I said. "I take it he has never spent the entire night out before this? No? Some degree of concern for him is understandable, then, and if he does not turn up we will have to conduct inquiries which cannot be kept secret. First, let us ascertain what, if anything, he took with him."

"I'll have a look," Bertie offered.

"Yes, that would be sensible," I agreed. "You are probably more familiar with his wardrobe than I."

Bertie slipped out in his inconspicuous way and Katherine persuaded her agitated spouse to take a chair and a restorative cup of coffee. "I beg your pardon, folks," Cyrus muttered. "Shouldn't have lost my head like that. But, consarn it! This puts me in an awful position."

He was too generous to point out the corollary-that we were in an even more invidious position. Martinelli had been one of the restorers and forgers employed by Sethos in the days when he ran the illegal antiquities business in Egypt. Sethos had recommended him to us, and Cyrus had unquestioningly accepted our word that he was worthy of trust.

The dire implications were not lost on any of us. Emerson, his n.o.ble brow furrowed, was the first to acknowledge them aloud. Squaring his broad shoulders, he announced, "The ultimate responsibility is ours, Vandergelt. I regret with all my heart that you have suffered this disaster, but rest a.s.sured you will not bear the brunt of it alone."

"That is very n.o.ble, Emerson," I said, as Cyrus turned to him with moist eyes and an outstretched hand. "But, if you will excuse me for saying so, not particularly helpful. At the moment we don't know the extent of the disaster, nor have we considered means of lessening it. I have a few ideas."

"I don't doubt it," Emerson muttered. "See here, Amelia-"

Bertie slipped back into the room. "Well?" Emerson demanded.

"If he has gone for good, he abandoned his personal property" was the answer. "Clothing, luggage, even his shaving tackle. His coat and hat and that gold-headed walking stick he always carried are gone, and I think there was a smallish portmanteau which was not there."

"How strange!" I exclaimed. "He did mean to return, then."

"Not necessarily," said Ramses. Ramses's countenance was less phlegmatic than it had been in his younger days, when Nefret had described it as his "stone-pharaoh face." He allowed himself to display emotion now, especially the touching affection he felt for his wife and children; but on this occasion the stony look was back as he p.r.o.nounced the words that dealt the death blow to my optimistic a.s.sessment. "He could hardly pack his bags and carry them out of the house un.o.bserved. As for secreting objects in his luggage when he takes his official departure, he must know Cyrus would have sense enough to check the inventory before allowing him to leave."

I nodded reluctant agreement. "That a.s.sumption would certainly be made by an experienced criminal, as he has been, trained by one of the finest criminal minds in-"

"d.a.m.nation, Amelia!" Emerson sprang to his feet and fixed me with a terrible glare. "How can you use the words 'finest' and 'criminal' in conjunction?"

Cyrus's stare was hardly less forbidding. "Are you suggesting that Sethos is behind this, Amelia? I thought he had reformed."

"She isn't suggesting anything of the sort." Nefret's musical voice quelled the complainants. "Aren't we getting off the track? We are all in this together, and our first priority is to take what action can be taken before any more time is lost."

"Hmph," said Emerson. His keen blue eyes softened. "Er. I beg your pardon, Peabody."

His use of my maiden name, which he employs as a term of professional approbation, told me I was in favor again. "Granted," I said graciously. "Nefret is correct. We must get on Martinelli's trail at once. If the search is unsuccessful we will consider what steps to take next. After all," I added, attempting as is my custom to look on the bright side, "no one else knows of the theft, and M. Lacau will not be back for several weeks. That gives us time to think of a way out of this. I have several-"

Nefret burst out laughing and the lines in Cyrus's face folded into a grin. "If you can't think of a way out of it, Amelia, n.o.body can. All right, you're in charge. What do we do first?"

The answer was obvious to me, as it must be to my intelligent Readers. Questioning of the gateman elicited the information that Martinelli had left the house late the previous night-"as he often did," the fellow added with a grin and a leer. He had set off on foot along the road leading out of the Valley toward the river, "walking like a man who looks forward to a happy-" I cut the fellow short and asked another question. Yes, he had carried a small bag, just large enough to contain a change of clothing or a pair of pajamas.

"Or three bracelets and a pectoral, carefully packed," Emerson muttered after we had dismissed the witness.

It took a while to locate the boatman who had taken the Italian across the river. He was nursing a grievance; at the Effendi's request, he had waited for hours to bring him back, but his customer had not come. He had lost money, much money, refusing others . . . and so on, at length.

I doubted there had been many others at that time of night, but we won his goodwill by hiring him to take us over to Luxor.

Tourism was almost back to normal, and the little town was bustling and as busy as it had been before the war. The facade of the Winter Palace Hotel shone pink with fresh paint, and the dusty street was filled with carriages and donkeys and camels. Tourist steamers and dahabeeyahs lined the bank. From the decks of some, indolent travelers who had not chosen to go ash.o.r.e leaned on the rails, looking out over the limpid waters. Some of them waved at us. I do not believe they knew who we were, since I failed to recognize any of the countenances, but I waved back at them. Emerson cursed them.

"Too d.a.m.ned many people. We won't find it easy to trace him in this mob."

His prediction proved to be correct. Katherine had remained at the Castle, but there were six of us to pursue inquiries, so we divided forces. We agreed to meet on the terrace at the Winter Palace, after making inquiries at the hotels and other, less respectable, places of entertainment. (My offer to question the female persons at certain of these latter establishments was unanimously voted down.) The results were disappointing if not unexpected. Martinelli was well known at the hotels and cafes, but no one admitted to having seen him the previous night. The female persons whom Emerson had taken it upon himself to question denied he had ever visited them. I was inclined to believe this, since they had no reason to lie. Apparently he had had sense enough (or success enough elsewhere) to avoid such dens.

The last to join our party was Ramses, whose a.s.signment had been the railroad station. "No luck?" he inquired.

"No. And you?" Emerson asked.