Ramses stared at me, his lips pinched, and then went to the bedroom door, removed the chair, and entered the room. A moment later I heard him speak curtly to Herr Morgenstern, urging him out of the bed. The two of them crossed the sitting room and went into the bath chamber. I sat down and began another list. At the top of the list was informing Daoud that he needed to come to the hotel, since he was more than capable of standing guard at Herr Morgenstern’s newly assigned room. Next on the list was arranging for said room. One of us needed to send a telegram to Emerson to inform him of the current circumstances. I knew of a shop nearby where I could purchase new toiletries, which I intended to do immediately after breakfast. Ramses, David, and Daoud would have to alternate guard duty until they caught up on their sleep; the three of them had been awake all night. I planned to indulge in a nap, but only after the bedroom had been thoroughly cleaned and the bed equipped with crisp, fresh linens. I made a notation to have the pillows replaced.

While Ramses and David ate breakfast with gusto, Herr Morgenstern swallowed a few small bites, and I gratefully sipped coffee and read aloud my newest list. David quickly volunteered to send the telegram to Emerson, possibly because the telegraph office was only two blocks away. Ramses agreed to fetch Daoud and bring him back to the hotel.

They finished their meal and departed for their assigned duties, leaving me to tend to Herr Morgenstern until they returned. He was not an attractive guest—or captive, to be more precise—in that the coddled eggs he had attempted to eat had dribbled down the front of his thobe. I clenched my teeth and cleaned him up as best I could.

“Well then,” I said cheerfully, “are you feeling better now that you are clean, rested, and nourished?”

“Where did you take her?” he bleated.

“On the assumption that you are referring to the bust of Nefertiti, I can assure you that we have not taken her anywhere. That was Harun’s doing. Have you any ideas where he might have set up his new workshop?” He shook his head numbly. I suspected he was telling the truth, since he would not have come looking for us were he in possession of that information. “Did you make any arrangement with Harun to return the original and the copies after they were completed?”

“No, I don’t think so . . . I cannot recall . . .” He rubbed his face as tears flooded his eyes. “I must find her, my precious Nefertiti. Do you have her, whoever you are?”