“Nitroglycerin, for his heart. I am reluctant to tell him that the bottle is empty. If he is not more robust when he returns, I agree that you should send someone to collect the physician. The Professor will be furious.”

“Did he tell you any more of the rumors from Giza?”

Ramses shook his head. “I asked him for particulars, but he refused to elaborate and pointed out that I am here solely to assist him in the writing of his memoirs. We are in Egypt because he desired to refresh his memories of his postgraduate years, when he was present at various excavations and tomb openings. He usually dictates to me immediately after breakfast until teatime. I spend evenings at my typewriter. While he was at Giza, I made use of the opportunity to catch up and review the last few chapters. Professor Doyle has a sharp recollection of minutiae. We are nearly finished with Egypt and the Sudan. We are preparing to begin on chapter fifty-three, when he opted to spend a year in Siberia investigating the Middle Holocene hunter-gatherers of the Lake Baikal region.”

“Oh,” Gunter said. He did not sound intrigued.

“We are leaving tomorrow on a ship to Istanbul. Once we have traversed the Black Sea, we will travel by train. The Trans-Siberian will be most tiresome, I fear, and without the highly acclaimed luxuries of the Orient Express.” Ramses paused to listen for any sounds emanating from the lavatory. The time for improvisation was rapidly nearing. He and Sethos had anticipated a variety of scenarios based on Gunter’s reaction, but Ramses knew quite well that human nature was unpredictable—and potentially volatile. “Have you been to Siberia, Herr Gunter? I’ve been told that it is frigid and hostile, populated by peasants. Oddly, it is snowless, but temperatures may go below sixty degrees centigrade. It will be challenging to type with frozen fingers.”

Gunter did not pretend to listen as Ramses prattled on about Siberia. The latter was rapidly running out of Siberian facts when Gunter interrupted him. “I must ask you to check on Professor Doyle. It has been five minutes since he went to the lavatory.”

“An excellent idea. If you will excuse me, I shall do so immediately.” Ramses went down the hallway and tapped on the door. “Professor Doyle, is there anything I can do for you?”

The door banged open. “Get out of my way, Higginsnort! I am capable of walking without your inadequate attempts to steer me.” Sethos’s steps resounded as he moved slowly to the doorway of the dining room. “Gunter, be a good man and find me a glass of brandy.”

“Sir,” Gunter said, alarmed, “your face is flushed and your breathing is labored. I insist on sending for a physician!”