It wasn’t much of an apology, but, as Cyrus knew, it was a considerable concession for Emerson.
“So what did you find?” he demanded.
“You’ll never guess,” said Emerson, his keen blue eyes twinkling.
“Now stop it this minute, Emerson,” I exclaimed. “We will tell you all about it, Cyrus, but can’t we converse as we walk – or, even better, wait until we get home, where we can be comfortable?”
Cyrus insisted I ride his mare, Queenie, and Bertie offered his mount to Nefret. She declined, but Jumana, who had had very little to say since the discovery of the body, was persuaded to accept. Cyrus and Emerson walked along beside me, and Emerson gave Cyrus a condensed version of our activities. I regret to say that Cyrus’s first reaction was one of amusement.
“Every year another dead body, as Abdullah used to say,” he remarked with a chuckle.
“Your frivolous attitude does not become you, Cyrus,” I chided. “A man is dead – horribly murdered.”
“You don’t know that,” Emerson growled. “And even if he was, he probably had it coming to him. Let us have no more of your imaginative speculations, Amelia. Wait until the others can join in before we discuss the matter further.”
Since I had been forbidden to talk, I proceeded to speculate.
By the time we reached the house, I had my conclusions well organized and was ready to express them; but Sennia was on the veranda, vocally annoyed because she had been left “alone” all day with “nothing to do.” Clearly we could not discuss a grisly corpse, or the unpleasant speculations it aroused, in her presence.
“Why don’t you wash your face and hands and put on one of your good frocks?” I suggested. “You see Bertie and Mr. Vandergelt are here; we will have a little party. Jumana, please tell Fatima we have guests and – er – tidy yourself a bit.”
I knew it would take Sennia at least a quarter of an hour to primp; she was a vain little creature and loved parties. My excuse for dismissing Jumana was less convincing. The rest of us were as much in need of tidying as she, but my inventiveness had given out, and I did not want her present when we discussed the possibility of her brother’s being a murderer.
Selim was no fool. His eyes followed the girl’s slim form as she retreated into the house. Then he looked at me. “Why did you send her away?”
“Her brother is in Luxor,” I said. “Jamil.”
“Is it so?” Selim’s eyes widened.
I repeated what Jumana had told us. “We intended to inform you – all of you – in due course, but in my opinion there was no reason to take his threats seriously. Our discovery today casts a different light on the matter. Selim, you said you know who the corpse might be – er – might have been?”
Selim was slow to answer. He appeared to be brooding about something. “The wife of Abdul Hassan has been looking for him. He was one of the men who found the princesses’ tomb.” Then he burst out, “Why did you not tell me that Jumana had seen Jamil and spoken with him?”
“We didn’t find out until yesterday.” Emerson does not like to be put on the defensive. He came back with a question of his own. “How is it that you had not heard of his return, you, who are respected by all in Gurneh?”
“Not by tomb robbers and thieves. There were rumors…” Selim looked up, his jaw set. “I thought they were lies, or not important. I was wrong. I ask your pardon.”
“Now, now, Selim, no one is blaming you,” I said soothingly. “Let us return to the point. I sent Jumana away because in my opinion she is not yet ready to accept the possibility that her brother is a thoroughgoing villain and possibly a murderer. If he were directly accused by one of us, she might try to steal out of the house in order to warn him.”
“I say,” Bertie interrupted. “Here, I say…” But he didn’t; indignation had rendered him incapable of reasoned speech.
“No one is accusing her of anything except misplaced loyalty,” I informed him. “Our principal concern is for her, Bertie, but we cannot dismiss the possibility that Jamil is capable of violence against others – including us.”
“That’s right.” Cyrus, who had listened interestedly, lit one of his cheroots. “But, Amelia, I think you’ve gone a little overboard. Jamil never amounted to much. I feel sorry for him if he’s fool enough to face the whole lot of us, not to mention Daoud.”
We were indeed an impressive group. My eyes followed those of Cyrus, from Emerson’s stalwart form to that of Ramses, who was leaning on the back of Nefret’s chair, lean and lithe as a panther. Either of them would have been more than a match for Jamil. And so would I.
“I believe we have covered the main points,” I said. “Selim, you will speak with your kin and your friends in Gurneh; perhaps some of them will respond to direct threats – questions, I mean to say. It only remains to inform Gargery of what is going on.”
“Good Gad,” said Emerson, his brow furrowing. “You don’t suppose there is any danger to Sennia, do you?”
“I don’t know, Emerson, but I propose to take no chances. Fatima and Basima must be warned as well.”
It was agreed that we would return to the Valley of the Monkeys next day, after stopping at Gurneh to interrogate the family of the missing man and the other thieves. There was no time for further discussion; Sennia bounced in and took command of the proceedings. She directed Ramses to take a seat on the settee so that she could sit beside him. Horus, who had followed close on her heels, proceeded to spread his considerable bulk across the rest of the space, and Nefret had to find another chair, which she did without resentment. As she had once said to me, “She had planned to marry him herself when she was older. A less amiable child wouldn’t tolerate me at all.”
Cyrus and Bertie did not linger long. Selim soon followed them; his grim expression indicated that he meant to make up for his failure, as he considered it, as soon as possible.
The sight of Sennia had reminded me that arrangements for her continuing education should not be long delayed. There was in Luxor an excellent girls’ school run by the American mission, but to send her there presented insurmountable difficulties, in the shape of Emerson. The American ladies were worthy individuals, he did not deny that; however, religious instruction was part of the curriculum, and Emerson does not hold with religion in any form. At my request he attempted to keep his heretical opinions to himself when Sennia was present, but if Sennia came home quoting the Bible at us, sooner or later Emerson would crack under the strain.
There was now an additional reason for keeping her closer to home. Jamil’s threat had been directed against Ramses; but who could tell what form his malice would take?
So I interrupted Miss Sennia in the middle of a long peroration with the announcement that she would begin her schooling next day. She turned an indignant look on me and tossed her black curls. “But, Aunt Amelia, I have a great deal to do!”
“You just now complained that you hadn’t enough to do,” I retorted. “I have it all worked out. Mrs. Vandergelt has kindly offered to tutor you in the basic subjects – history (of England, that is), English grammar and composition, mathematics, and botany.”
“Flowers?” Sennia’s pretty little mouth drew up in a good imitation of Emerson’s sneer. “I don’t want to learn about boring flowers, Aunt Amelia, I want to learn about animals and mummies and bones.”
“Biology,” I said. “Hmmm. Well, that will have to wait. Mrs. Vandergelt prefers not to discuss mummies and bones.”
“What about Aunt Nefret? She knows all about them.” She fluttered her long lashes at Nefret, who grinned at this transparent flattery.
“I don’t know how good a teacher I might be, Sennia, but I could try. Two or three lessons a week, perhaps.”
“And when shall I take my lessons in hieroglyphs with Ramses?” was the next question. The little witch had the entire curriculum worked out in her head and knew exactly how to get her way. Emerson cravenly agreed to tutor her in ancient Egyptian history, and having settled the essentials to her satisfaction, Sennia kindly agreed to go to Katherine three days a week for the less important subjects. She then settled down to make serious inroads on the tea cakes.