“Is there anything else you should tell me?” David asked.

“I don’t think so.” David’s very silence was a demand. After a moment Ramses said, “All right, then. It’s possible that Farouk was planted on us by the other side. That’s what I would do if I weren’t entirely confident of the reliability of my temporary allies. If this is the case and if he can be persuaded to talk, he could lead us to the man in charge of operations here in Cairo . You know what that would mean, don’t you? We could put an end to this business within a few days.”

David’s breath caught. “It would be too much to hope for.”

The pain and longing in his friend’s voice stabbed Ramses with renewed guilt. He said roughly, “Don’t hope. I’ve no proof, only what Mother would call a strong premonition. In any case, Farouk is dangerous, and the sooner we remove him, the safer for us. I’d better go before I fall asleep. Can you let me know where to find you? Our emergency method—use hieroglyphs, sign Carter’s name, and hire a messenger to deliver it.”

David steadied the boat as he climbed out. “I’ll tell you on Tuesday.”

Ramses slipped on the muddy bank, caught himself, and spun round to face his friend.

“Don’t waste your breath,” David said. “Do you suppose I’d let you go alone after what happened last time? I’ll find a place to hide and be in concealment before sundown. No one will know I’m there. And I might just get a clue as to where your friend the Turk has come from.”

“I can’t stop you, can I?”

“Not in your present condition.” David sounded amused. “I’ll contact you somewhere along the homeward path. Look for a dancing girl in gauzy pantaloons.”

After Nefret and I had developed the photographs I sent her to bed and retired to my own room. Needless to say, I was still lying sleepless in the dark, my door ajar, when I finally heard the sound I had been waiting for—not footsteps, for Ramses walked lightly as a cat, but the soft click of the latch when he opened the door of his room.

I was wearing my dressing gown but not my slippers. I do not believe I made any noise at all. However, when I approached Ramses’s door he was waiting for me. Putting one hand over my mouth, he drew me into the room and shut the door.

“Stand still while I light a lamp,” he whispered.

“How did you know I would—”

“Sssh.”

He tossed the bundled-up robe and turban he had worn that night onto the bed. Seshat sniffed curiously at it. The smell was certainly pungent.

“I thought you might wait up for me,” Ramses said softly. “Though I hoped you would not. Go back to bed, Mother. It’s all right.”

“David?”

“He was annoyed with me because I didn’t bring the plum cake. You had better get some sleep. Father will have us up at dawn.”

“I’ve been thinking about that house in Maadi. If your father knew its location—”

“David left the place tonight.”

“Was that handsome young man—Farouk?—at the meeting?”

“Yes.” He began unbuttoning his shirt. It was another hint, which I ignored.

“In my opinion, you ought to have the shop raided and Farouk taken into custody at once.”

Ramses stared at me. His eyes were very wide and very dark. “There are times when you terrify me, Mother,” he said, under his breath. “What put that idea into your head?”

“Logical ratiocination,” I explained, pleased to have got his attention. “The enemy has no reason to trust Wardani. If they are sensible people, as the Germans are known to be, they would place a spy in the organization. Farouk’s behavior has been highly suspicious. At the least, arresting him will remove a potential source of danger to you, and at best he might be persuaded to betray his employer, who is almost certainly—”

“Yes, Mother.” Ramses sat down rather heavily on the side of the bed. “Believe it or not, I had come to the same conclusion.”

“Good. Then all we need do is present the plan to Mr. Russell and insist he carry it out.”

“Insist?” He rubbed his unshaven chin, and the corners of his mouth turned up. “I suppose you have also worked out a method of communicating with Russell?”

“Yes, indeed. I will arrange for us to see him tomorrow at Giza . Just leave it to me.”

Ramses got slowly to his feet. Having undone the shirt buttons, he was not prepared to go further. He came to me and took me by the shoulders. “Very well, I will. Thank you. Please be careful.”

“Certainly. Have you ever known me to take unnecessary chances?”

His lips parted in one of his rare, unguarded smiles. I thought for a moment he would kiss my cheek, but he did not. He gave my shoulders a little squeeze and turned me toward the door. “Good night, Mother.”

With my mind now at ease, at least for the time being, I was able to sleep. It seemed to me my eyes had hardly closed before they opened again to see a familiar face in close proximity to mine.

“Ah,” said Emerson in a satisfied voice. “You are awake.”

He kissed me. I made wordless noises indicative of appreciation and approval, but Emerson soon left off kissing me and went to the washbasin.

“Up you get, my love. I have a feeling we will be deluged by curiosity seekers and I need you to fend them off with your parasol.”

I said, “Ramses is home, safe and sound.”

“I know. I looked in on him before I came here.”

“You didn’t wake him, did you?”

“He was already awake.” Emerson finished splashing water all over the floor and the washstand and himself, and reached for a towel. “Hurry and dress. I want that statue out and in a safe place before dark.”

I hastened to comply, for in fact I was not at all averse to playing the role of guard. It would give me an opportunity to inspect at close hand every visitor who approached. If ever there was an event to attract the interest of the Master Criminal, this was it—a new masterpiece of Egyptian art, not yet under lock and key. Surely, if he was in Cairo , he would be unable to resist the temptation to have a look at it. And as soon as I set eyes on him I would know him, whatever disguise he might assume.

I therefore took pains to collect all my weapons. When I strode into the dining room, parasol in hand, four pairs of eyes were focused on me.

“I could hear you jingling all the way down the hall,” remarked Emerson, rising to hold a chair for me.

Ramses, who had also risen, looked me over. “The mere sight of you bristling with weapons should deter any thief,” he said. “I presume there are more of them in your pockets?”

“Only a pair of handcuffs, a stocking, which I will fill with sand, and my pistol,” I replied. “That reminds me, Emerson; the release on my parasol has been sticking.”

“Oh, Sitt.” Fatima wrung her hands. “What is going to happen? Is there danger?”

“Nothing is going to happen,” Nefret said firmly.

“Possibly not, but it is always best to be prepared.” I smacked my egg with a spoon and lifted the top off. “Do you have your knife?”

Smiling, she pushed her coat back. The weapon was belted to her waist.

“Ramses?”

He had resumed his chair. “No. I feel certain Father and I can count on you two to protect us. Fatima , is there more bread?”

Fatima trotted off, shaking her head and murmuring to herself.

Emerson was not at all pleased to learn that I had invited Mr. Quibell to come by that morning. I had sent a messenger the night before, since I knew Emerson would not, but it was our obligation to inform the Antiquities Department of any major finds. With the new director still in France , Quibell was the highest-ranking Egyptologist presently in Cairo , and of course he was also an old friend.

I pointed this out to Emerson, between bites and swallows.

“Who else did you invite?” he growled.

“Only General Maxwell.”

Nefret choked on her coffee and Emerson appeared to be on the brink of an explosion. “He won’t come,” I said quickly. “He has far too many other things on his mind. It was only a courteous gesture.”