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Authors: David Stuart Davies
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waiting...’
Holmes gave a sigh of resignation. ‘You request of me more than I am able to offer, Miss Andrews...’ He held up his hand to prevent a further torrent of invective. ‘I will tell you what I believe to be true, but you will allow me to keep my unproven theories to myself until circumstances validate them or not.’
‘Very well,’ she replied coolly, her stance remaining stiff and unyielding.
‘Did you accompany your father on the Henntawy expedition?’
A puzzled frown touched Miss Andrews’ brow. ‘No, but I know all about it, and I helped him prepare the exhibits for the British Museum. What has this to do with my father’s disappearance?’
‘Everything! Despite his immense knowledge of Egyptology, your father was never able to arrive at a comprehensible interpretation of the Henntawy papyrus.’
Ah, no. It drove him to distraction.’
‘He knew there was a missing key?’
Our visitor allowed her stern features to relax into a wry grin. ‘He had considered the possibility, yes, along with many others.’
‘Did he discuss the papyrus with Sir George Faversham, his partner on the expedition?’
‘No. They saw each other as rivals: both were determined to be the first to solve the riddle. Sir George was always claiming that he had succeeded and would send my father taunting telegrams. “Let the man gloat,” my father said. “If he really had the answer, he would not tell a soul and would be off to Egypt with the speed of the Devil to get his hands on the Scroll of the Dead.”’
‘Boasting leads to burglary and murder, eh, Watson?’
‘I’m sorry, Holmes. You have lost me.’
‘A newspaper report you read out to me only yesterday – when, if you recall, you were trying to rouse my spirits with what I wrongly surmised was a trivial piece of villainy. Sir George Faversham’s house was ransacked but nothing of value taken. You recall?’
‘Yes, yes I do – and he was murdered.’
‘Ah! So the canvas grows broader.’ The miscreants were no doubt hoping that Sir George would help them translate the key in order that they could interpret the Henntawy papyrus. When he was unable, or perhaps refused, to do so – they... eliminated him.’ He rubbed his hands vigourously ‘You see, Miss Andrews, there are certain unscrupulous individuals desperate to get their hands on Setaph’s Scroll of the Dead and they will go to any lengths – including murder – to obtain it. I am sure that the Henntawy papyrus your father was working on, containing the details of the Scroll’s whereabouts, was useless without the key – one prepared by Setaph himself. I believe that these people I speak of have obtained the key.’
At this juncture I interrupted. ‘If that is the case, why are they not seeking the location of the Scroll of the Dead?’
Ah, my dear Watson, because like myself, they underestimated the cunning of Setaph. The key also presents puzzles which need solving. Obviously they are not as taxing as the papyrus from the museum, but clever enough to baffle a simple and untutored mind.’
‘I think I see what you are implying, Mr Holmes. These villains, of whom you speak, need my father to interpret this key for them.’
‘That is how I read the mystery. That is why no ransom is required.’
‘If you are correct – what happens to my father when he has done their work for them?’
Holmes paused for a moment, stroking his chin. ‘My answer can only be a surmise; but knowing what I do about your father’s abductors, I believe they will hold on to him until they have Setaph’s Scroll of theDead in their grasp. Only then can they be sure your father has provided them with the correct information.’
Miss Andrews slumped back in the chair. I threw a concerned glance at Holmes.
‘By which time,’ he continued in a lighter tone, ‘Doctor Watson and I will have caught up with them.’
‘Do you really think so?’ Miss Andrews’ desperate question exactly mirrored the
Holmes gave a sigh of resignation. ‘You request of me more than I am able to offer, Miss Andrews...’ He held up his hand to prevent a further torrent of invective. ‘I will tell you what I believe to be true, but you will allow me to keep my unproven theories to myself until circumstances validate them or not.’
‘Very well,’ she replied coolly, her stance remaining stiff and unyielding.
‘Did you accompany your father on the Henntawy expedition?’
A puzzled frown touched Miss Andrews’ brow. ‘No, but I know all about it, and I helped him prepare the exhibits for the British Museum. What has this to do with my father’s disappearance?’
‘Everything! Despite his immense knowledge of Egyptology, your father was never able to arrive at a comprehensible interpretation of the Henntawy papyrus.’
Ah, no. It drove him to distraction.’
‘He knew there was a missing key?’
Our visitor allowed her stern features to relax into a wry grin. ‘He had considered the possibility, yes, along with many others.’
‘Did he discuss the papyrus with Sir George Faversham, his partner on the expedition?’
‘No. They saw each other as rivals: both were determined to be the first to solve the riddle. Sir George was always claiming that he had succeeded and would send my father taunting telegrams. “Let the man gloat,” my father said. “If he really had the answer, he would not tell a soul and would be off to Egypt with the speed of the Devil to get his hands on the Scroll of the Dead.”’
‘Boasting leads to burglary and murder, eh, Watson?’
‘I’m sorry, Holmes. You have lost me.’
‘A newspaper report you read out to me only yesterday – when, if you recall, you were trying to rouse my spirits with what I wrongly surmised was a trivial piece of villainy. Sir George Faversham’s house was ransacked but nothing of value taken. You recall?’
‘Yes, yes I do – and he was murdered.’
‘Ah! So the canvas grows broader.’ The miscreants were no doubt hoping that Sir George would help them translate the key in order that they could interpret the Henntawy papyrus. When he was unable, or perhaps refused, to do so – they... eliminated him.’ He rubbed his hands vigourously ‘You see, Miss Andrews, there are certain unscrupulous individuals desperate to get their hands on Setaph’s Scroll of the Dead and they will go to any lengths – including murder – to obtain it. I am sure that the Henntawy papyrus your father was working on, containing the details of the Scroll’s whereabouts, was useless without the key – one prepared by Setaph himself. I believe that these people I speak of have obtained the key.’
At this juncture I interrupted. ‘If that is the case, why are they not seeking the location of the Scroll of the Dead?’
Ah, my dear Watson, because like myself, they underestimated the cunning of Setaph. The key also presents puzzles which need solving. Obviously they are not as taxing as the papyrus from the museum, but clever enough to baffle a simple and untutored mind.’
‘I think I see what you are implying, Mr Holmes. These villains, of whom you speak, need my father to interpret this key for them.’
‘That is how I read the mystery. That is why no ransom is required.’
‘If you are correct – what happens to my father when he has done their work for them?’
Holmes paused for a moment, stroking his chin. ‘My answer can only be a surmise; but knowing what I do about your father’s abductors, I believe they will hold on to him until they have Setaph’s Scroll of theDead in their grasp. Only then can they be sure your father has provided them with the correct information.’
Miss Andrews slumped back in the chair. I threw a concerned glance at Holmes.
‘By which time,’ he continued in a lighter tone, ‘Doctor Watson and I will have caught up with them.’
‘Do you really think so?’ Miss Andrews’ desperate question exactly mirrored the
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