The Golden One

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 Se

“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 Se

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 ca

“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 Se

“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; Se

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 Se

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 Se

“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?” Se

“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 gri

“I don’t know how good a teacher I might be, Se

“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, Se