“Nothing. It was not my place to seek an explanation.”

I gave him a fierce stare. “So you were not there when he uncovered the bust of Nefertiti? Were you taking a nap?”

Reis Abdul Azim appeared to be shrinking as he hunched his shoulders and lowered his head. “No, Sitt, I was not there. He announced that he was closing the site for the day and sent all of us away, even though there remained several hours of daylight. The next day he was gone. I could see that an object had been removed and the space filled with sand; I did not know what it was.”

Emerson uttered a colorful profanity, but I cut him off before he could launch into a torrent. “In any case, Herr Morgenstern has recovered. I expected to find him here, back at work.”

“He has not come. This man von Raubritter—”

“We are going to speak with him now,” Emerson said. “Come with us if you like. We have been authorized by Maspero to make sure the work is continuing.”

It did not occur to the reis to ask if Herr Morgenstern had approved this. If I may say so, our reputations were so high (and Emerson’s command of Arabic invectives so extensive) that no one dared question our authority.

There was usually a small crowd around any excavation area, some hoping for work, others with nothing better to do. This morning not a soul was in sight.

I turned to Reis Abdul Azim. “What is going on?”

He shrugged and spread his hands wide to indicate ignorance, but there was fear in his eyes as he began to back away from us.

Emerson let out a reverberant oath and broke into a run. Following, I soon saw what he had seen—an object protruding from the sand like a stick marking a particular spot. It was not a stick. It was a human forearm.

The body had not been buried deep. It took Emerson only seconds to uncover the face and neck of the person of whom we had been speaking moments earlier. “Sit down, my dear, and have a sip of water,” he ordered. “You appear a trifle upset.”

I took his advice, for the sight was disturbing. I handed him the flask. He emptied it in one gulp and said, “Von Raubritter was a civilized young man, even if he was not a trained archaeologist. Who could have done such a thing? A Godwin, do you suppose?”

“That makes no sense, Emerson. What connection could he have had with the Godwins?”

“The five brothers appear to be possessed by revenge, but there is method in madness, as the saying goes. What arcane meaning can this peculiar tableau have?”

“The extended arm may not have been deliberate,” I commented. “There is a phenomenon known as cadaveric spasm—instantaneous rigor mortis. It sometimes follows a violent struggle.”