Mahmoud touched my arm. “Earlier in the day I saw several crocodiles sunning themselves on the sandbank. They are no longer there.”

I gazed at the unoccupied sandbank. “I believe that I would like to sit down now and will appreciate assistance.” Fatima and Mahmoud held my arms as I staggered into the sitting room. Nefret brought me a snifter of brandy, sat next to me, and said, “Would you be so kind as to begin at the beginning?”

I wondered how my small audience might react if I said, “If you must know, I was arguing with Queen Nefertiti when Miss Smith interrupted us.”

Twenty

Nefret must have sent a message to the site, because Emerson, David, Ramses, and Latif arrived within a quarter of an hour. Emerson helped me to my feet and led me into our cabin.

His embrace was fierce. “My dearest Peabody, you could have been killed by that nasty woman. I am so sorry that you were forced to be there, but I cannot say that I shall mourn her demise. Sobek, the deity reputedly associated with crocodiles, chose not to save her. There was nothing you could do.”

I was too comforted by his closeness to admit that I should have attempted to find a way to rescue Miss Smith, also known as Mrs. Godwin—mother of the five assassins bent on deadly revenge. “I regret that it happened.”

“There was nothing you could do,” he repeated. “If you had dove into the water to pull her up, you would have been the crocodiles’ dessert.”

After further interactions of a comforting nature, Emerson and I went to the top deck to join the others. Latif was sulking because his drink consisted solely of soda water. David showed us his copy of a relief found in the studio. Ramses scowled as he studied the hieroglyphs. Emerson sat and regarded me with his sapphirine eyes, his lips upcurled in a gentle smile. I found it difficult to follow the general conversation. I caught Nefret staring at Ramses, her expression indecipherable.

Daoud came up the stairs and stopped. He would have remained there had I not said, “Please tell us about Mr. Dullard. Were you successful in following him after he fled toward the Nile?”

“Yes, Sitt Hakim,” he said, visibly offended. He does not like his abilities to be doubted. “I took the boat from our pier and rowed downstream with all my strength. I soon caught sight of him and shouted at him to beach his boat. Instead, he foolishly attempted to escape me by rowing toward a swamp. This behavior made no sense. I followed and saw that he was obscured by tall reeds. Again, I shouted at him. He stood up and aimed a gun at me, but his boat capsized and he fell into the water.”

“So you hauled him out,” Emerson said, “and delivered him to the police station in Minya. Well done, Daoud. We can always rely on you.”