Read Online The Falcon at the Portal: An Amelia Peabody Mystery by Elizabeth Peters - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Peters
Tags: Fiction, General, detective, Suspense, Historical, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Mystery, Mystery Fiction, Mystery & Detective - Women Sleuths, Fiction - Mystery, Excavations (Archaeology), Crime & mystery, Traditional British, Egypt, Archaeology, Mystery & Detective - Series, Archaeologists, Women archaeologists, Adventure fiction, Egyptologists, Peabody, Amelia (Fictitious character), Peabody; Amelia (Fictitious character), Mystery & Detective - Historical
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"He would never have done such a thing," I said. "Never. He would have considered it a betrayal of our friendship."
Sympathy for my wrath enabled Emerson to control his own. Taking my hand, he patted it and spoke in the soft purring voice evil doers fear more than his shouts.
"Our unknown opponent is a clever bastard, isn't he? Abdullah knew every dealer and every tomb robber in Egypt. If he had formed his own collection of antiquities, it would have been of superb quality. The mention of his name gave the spurious antiquities a believable provenance and undoubtedly raised the price. The swine couldn't have known we would be the ones to discover the fraud, but by Gad, I could almost believe he anticipated even that possibility! You see the position he has put us in, don't you? In order to protect David, all we need do is maintain the fiction. No one would question his right to dispose of his grandfather's collection, but if the objects are found to be counterfeit—"
"Someone will find out," I said. "Sooner or later."
"There's a good chance it will be later rather than sooner," Emerson said. "If at all. It isn't that easy to identify a well-made fake, you know; there are several presently on display in various museums, including our precious British Museum! Budge couldn't spot a forgery unless it had 'Made in Birmingham' stamped on the base."
None of us replied to this (slightly) exaggerated assessment. Emerson's detestation of the Keeper of Egyptian Antiquities was familiar to us all. In fairness to my husband I should add that it was an opinion shared by many Egyptologists, if not quite to the same degree. Even if Budge realized the ushebtis were fakes, he was not likely to admit he had been taken in by them; but it would have been dishonorable to support the fraud by our silence, no matter how great the peril to David.
For a time only the crackling of the flames and the sleepy squeaks of the kitten broke the silence.
"At least we now know what to look for," said Ramses, in his cool, unemotional voice. "Any object that purports to have been sold by David or to have belonged to Abdullah. The more of them we can locate, the better our chance of establishing a pattern that may give us a clue as to this individual's identity."
"Quite right," said Nefret. "But how do you propose to go about it? We can't ask the dealers straight out whether they have recently purchased antiquities from David; they will wonder why he hadn't told us himself."
"Good Gad, that is true," I exclaimed. "We dare not arouse the slightest suspicion that the transaction was not legitimate. Then how ..."
I did not complete the sentence. There was no need; we all knew the answer. My heart sank when I saw Emerson's face. His tight lips had relaxed, his eyes shone.
"By concealing our true identities," he said happily. "That is how. Disguised as a wealthy collector, I will say I have heard rumors about an outstanding group of antiquities that has recently come on the market—"
"No, Emerson," I said. "No, my dear. Not you."
"Why the devil not? I trust," said Emerson, glowering, "that you are not implying I cannot carry off a masquerade of that sort as competently as—as anyone."
He transferred the glare to Ramses.
Ramses's expertise at the dubious art of disguise was a source of irritation as well as pride to his father; not only had it been inspired by an individual for whom Emerson had a particular detestation, but it was a skill at which Emerson himself secretly yearned to excel. He has a fondness for theatrics and a positive passion for beards, possibly because I had deprived him of his, not once but twice! Unhappily it is a skill at which Emerson cannot succeed. His magnificent physique defies concealment, and his outrageous temper explodes under the slightest provocation.
Ramses remained prudently silent. I said, "I am not implying, Emerson, I am telling you straight out. There is no way of disguising the color of those sapphirine orbs or the
"He would never have done such a thing," I said. "Never. He would have considered it a betrayal of our friendship."
Sympathy for my wrath enabled Emerson to control his own. Taking my hand, he patted it and spoke in the soft purring voice evil doers fear more than his shouts.
"Our unknown opponent is a clever bastard, isn't he? Abdullah knew every dealer and every tomb robber in Egypt. If he had formed his own collection of antiquities, it would have been of superb quality. The mention of his name gave the spurious antiquities a believable provenance and undoubtedly raised the price. The swine couldn't have known we would be the ones to discover the fraud, but by Gad, I could almost believe he anticipated even that possibility! You see the position he has put us in, don't you? In order to protect David, all we need do is maintain the fiction. No one would question his right to dispose of his grandfather's collection, but if the objects are found to be counterfeit—"
"Someone will find out," I said. "Sooner or later."
"There's a good chance it will be later rather than sooner," Emerson said. "If at all. It isn't that easy to identify a well-made fake, you know; there are several presently on display in various museums, including our precious British Museum! Budge couldn't spot a forgery unless it had 'Made in Birmingham' stamped on the base."
None of us replied to this (slightly) exaggerated assessment. Emerson's detestation of the Keeper of Egyptian Antiquities was familiar to us all. In fairness to my husband I should add that it was an opinion shared by many Egyptologists, if not quite to the same degree. Even if Budge realized the ushebtis were fakes, he was not likely to admit he had been taken in by them; but it would have been dishonorable to support the fraud by our silence, no matter how great the peril to David.
For a time only the crackling of the flames and the sleepy squeaks of the kitten broke the silence.
"At least we now know what to look for," said Ramses, in his cool, unemotional voice. "Any object that purports to have been sold by David or to have belonged to Abdullah. The more of them we can locate, the better our chance of establishing a pattern that may give us a clue as to this individual's identity."
"Quite right," said Nefret. "But how do you propose to go about it? We can't ask the dealers straight out whether they have recently purchased antiquities from David; they will wonder why he hadn't told us himself."
"Good Gad, that is true," I exclaimed. "We dare not arouse the slightest suspicion that the transaction was not legitimate. Then how ..."
I did not complete the sentence. There was no need; we all knew the answer. My heart sank when I saw Emerson's face. His tight lips had relaxed, his eyes shone.
"By concealing our true identities," he said happily. "That is how. Disguised as a wealthy collector, I will say I have heard rumors about an outstanding group of antiquities that has recently come on the market—"
"No, Emerson," I said. "No, my dear. Not you."
"Why the devil not? I trust," said Emerson, glowering, "that you are not implying I cannot carry off a masquerade of that sort as competently as—as anyone."
He transferred the glare to Ramses.
Ramses's expertise at the dubious art of disguise was a source of irritation as well as pride to his father; not only had it been inspired by an individual for whom Emerson had a particular detestation, but it was a skill at which Emerson himself secretly yearned to excel. He has a fondness for theatrics and a positive passion for beards, possibly because I had deprived him of his, not once but twice! Unhappily it is a skill at which Emerson cannot succeed. His magnificent physique defies concealment, and his outrageous temper explodes under the slightest provocation.
Ramses remained prudently silent. I said, "I am not implying, Emerson, I am telling you straight out. There is no way of disguising the color of those sapphirine orbs or the
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