“Well done, Mother,” he said as the cab braked to an abrupt stop and the driver turned around to give us a somewhat toothless grin. “It seems as though we have arrived in a mere four minutes, give or take a few seconds. Please reward our driver as you promised while I observe those who are loitering in the vicinity.”

I dealt with the driver, receiving an even wider somewhat toothless grin, and then emerged from the cab. “I doubt anyone was able to follow us, no matter how desperately he may have tried. Let us purchase the statue without haggling over the price and return to the hotel to make preparations to leave on the night train. As much as I would enjoy sending a telegram to your father with this astonishing news, I am loath to risk sharing the information with an employee at the telegraph office. You have your spies, but so does Sethos. This requires the utmost discretion.”

“It does indeed,” Ramses said as he took my arm and escorted me into a poorly lit shop crowded with shelves displaying pots, figurines, papyrus scrolls, hookahs, and garish souvenirs. With only minimal regard for the tourists blithering over the wares, he forced our way to the counter.

Abubakar, who obviously recognized us, nodded warily. “How kind of you to visit my lowly shop, Sitt Hakim, you and your son. I am honored by your presence and will do everything within my power to please you. I have several fine pieces from the Twelfth Dynasty, if you should care to examine them.”

“It has been brought to my attention,” I said with a thin smile, “that you have a statue—well, nothing more than a head—of some unknown Egyptian queen or consort. Even though it is only a copy, I would like to add it to my collection. I do not see it on display, so I assume it is in your back room.”

“We would like to see it now,” added Ramses. His tone made it clear that this was not a request.

“Of course,” Abubakar whined, and then hurried through the curtain behind him. I was congratulating myself on maintaining my composure despite the tightness of my throat and difficulty breathing when he reappeared and set down the statue of Nefertiti. “It is very nice, this piece, and beautiful. I will be sorry to lose her, but I will make the sacrifice for you, Sitt Hakim.”

I heard Ramses inhale sharply as we stared at it. Before he could respond, and I was quite sure he would do so in a manner that would alarm other patrons in the shop, I said, “Where did you acquire this, Abubakar?”

“I cannot say,” he said, his head lowered to avoid meeting our eyes.