Back The Painted Queen
Chapters (28)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. ForewordEgyptologists Together: Amelia Peabody, Elizabeth Peters, and Barbara Mertz
  4. Preface
  5. Introduction
  6. One
  7. Two
  8. Three
  9. Four
  10. Five
  11. Six
  12. Seven
  13. Eight
  14. Nine
  15. Ten
  16. Eleven
  17. Twelve
  18. Thirteen
  19. Fourteen
  20. Fifteen
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. About the Authors
  27. Books by Elizabeth Peters
  28. About the Publisher

Ramses slid the door closed. “The train has been slowing down because of a curvature in the tracks. Sethos must have sensed it as well and chosen the moment. He has solved one problem, but if he was telling the truth, he has no shoes or money. It will be a long walk to Minya.”

*  *  *

Over dinner, Emerson, Nefret, and I had a lengthy conversation about Morgenstern and Dullard. The conversation did not begin until the dessert course was served, since Emerson could not contain his excitement about the serdab and carried on nonstop throughout the aperitifs and the entrée. It had been some time since he had been so endowed with enthusiasm, and I enjoyed watching his eyes glitter and his hands slice the air as he speculated about what might be revealed. I did not make an effort to divert him until he subsided and allowed me to offer my theory and expound upon it. Although I acknowledge the concept of coincidences, I emphasized Dullard’s timely opportunities.

“Then you agree that he is responsible for sneaking the drug into the bottles of schnapps?” I asked Emerson.

He stroked his chin while he considered the question. “Yes, Peabody, you must be right about this. What’s more, that bl—blasted missionary was forced to murder von Raubritter to prevent him from confiding in us.”

“But we have no proof,” Nefret pointed out. “No matter how hard you try to persuade the police of the logical explanation of Dullard’s culpability, they will not act on it. They are dim-witted and lazy. Having spent the day with them, I can assure you that my assessment is accurate.”

I sighed. “It is true that we have no proof. Our best chance is to go to the Coptic village to question its inhabitants, but they may be reluctant to speak freely about him. To them, he is a godly man filled with evangelical spirit.”

Emerson banged down his brandy snifter. “Do not even think about going to the village, Peabody! I have asked you innumerable times not to wander off on your own. Has it slipped your mind that one assassin remains? Absalom followed us here, and there is no credible reason why the fifth brother would not have accompanied him. You are in danger whenever you are not within my sight.” He retrieved the snifter and took a gulp. “Besides, I need you and Nefret to be present when we uncover the serdab and remove its contents. This will take us days.”