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about to try to explain Eddie to Lord Ruthven and he was wary of mentioning the photographs to anyone.
    â€˜More than that.’ Lord Ruthven said. ‘We, that is, the Committee, feel it would be sensible if all connected artefacts were removed from your department. If we need to produce them at a later date for whatever reason, they can be seen to be stored elsewhere.’
    Sir William frowned. ‘Connected artefacts?’
    â€˜The sarcophagus, for example.’
    â€˜I hardly think it is likely that the newspapers will find their way into hidden vaults, which they are unaware even exist, to look at an empty sarcophagus.’
    â€˜Nevertheless, we feel it is best if the sarcophagus is taken into safe-keeping elsewhere.’ There was an edge of impatience in Lord Ruthven’s voice.
    â€˜And where might that be?’
    The impatience became annoyance. ‘That is no concern of yours, Protheroe.’
    Sir William leaned across the desk. ‘Forgive me, but I think it is.’
    Lord Ruthven stared back at him for several seconds. Then he looked away. He stood up, gathering his hat and gloves from a side table. ‘Very well, if you must know, and I suppose it is only right and proper, I am having the sarcophagus taken from the Egyptian Rooms to my club.’
    â€˜Your club?’ Sir William echoed in disbelief.
    â€˜Where it won’t attract unwanted attention and the interest of sensationalists. Can’t have people coming from all over London to stare at the thing.’ He turned towards the door.
    â€˜This is the British Museum, sir,’ Sir William said sharply. ‘Its very purpose is to attract people from all over London, and indeed further afield, to stare at things.’
    Lord Ruthven turned in the doorway. ‘I think perhaps, on this matter, we must agree to differ. Let us not fall out over it though.’ He put on his hat and began to pull on his gloves.
    â€˜Very well,’ Sir William conceded. ‘You have my permission, though I am sure you do not need it, to take the sarcophagus into protective custody. I really cannot see the point of removing something from one secret location and hiding it in another. But, as you say, it is hardly worth arguing about.’
    â€˜Thank you. You know,’ Ruthven went on, ‘I believe there is a vacancy at the Club. They don’t come up very often and of course membership is by nomination only. I was wondering if I could put your name forward?’
    Sir William blinked in surprise. ‘Forgive me, which club is that?’
    â€˜More than just a club, you know. I believe the correct title is “the Society of Diabolic and Mystic Nominees”. We are very … exclusive.’
    â€˜And very secretive,’ Sir William said. ‘I am flattered and honoured, your grace. But I am quite happy with my own club and would hardly have the time or the stamina for two.’
    â€˜The Atlantian Club?’ Lord Ruthven smiled thinly, his moustache twitching. ‘You could resign.’
    â€˜Dear Julius would never forgive me. As I say, I am grateful for the honour, but I am afraid I must decline.’
    Lord Ruthven shrugged. ‘Very well.’ He seemed about to leave, but then he paused, and turned back. ‘Oh, and the casket of canopic jars. Best we look after that too, away from prying eyes. Have it brought up from the vault, will you? I’ll send someone to collect it this morning.’
    Sir William stared at the closed door for several moments, the tips of his fingers tapping out a steadyrhythm on the blotter. So the sarcophagus and the jars – and how did Ruthven know about them? – were to be taken to Lord Ruthven’s club. In a way that seemed strangely appropriate. For Sir William was aware that the Society of Diabolic and Mystic Nominees was better known by another name.
    It was more commonly called the Damnation Club.

    Eve had gone to work, which Eddie felt was a