Read Online Tomb of the Golden Bird by Elizabeth Peters - Free Book Online Page B

remainder of this season and for seasons to come. It is agreed, is it not, that we wish to continue the arrangement that has proved so successful—combining our forces into a single group?" "Nothing would please me more," Cyrus exclaimed. "It would only be making it official. I'm no Egyptologist, and I would be more than happy to have Emerson take over as director." "Hmph," said Emerson. "Well. . ." "Excellent," said his wife briskly. "We cannot continue in the West Valley indefinitely. It was a temporary arrangement in any case. We must settle on another site and add to our staff." "I tell you what we need," said Cyrus. "An artist. I don't suppose Mr. or Mrs. Davies would be available?" "No, no," Emerson said. "Not a chance. They have other commitments. But David—" "Also has other commitments," said his wife, in a tone that brooked no argument. "What about that young Frenchwoman, Mlle. Malraux?" She had done it again. Emerson became so involved in arguing about details that he tacitly conceded her point. She made two of her little lists, one of sites they should consider, and another of potential staff members. "I shall just pop up to Cairo tomorrow, then," she announced. "What for?" Emerson demanded suspiciously. In a tone of exaggerated patience, she replied, "To interview possible staff members, inform M. Lacau of our new arrangement, and ask his advice about another site. Unless you would prefer to go in my stead?" Faced with several chores he detested plus abandoning his surveillance of Howard Carter, Emerson gave in without a struggle—as she had known he would. Ramses managed to get a word alone with her after the Vandergelts had left. "You aren't going to look at houses for us, are you?" "I doubt there will be time," she replied, studying her lists. "I don't want to be away too long. Try to prevent your father from bullying Howard." "Yes, Mother. You've something else on your mental list, haven't you?" She looked up at him, her face grave. "We are still under surveillance." "I've been keeping an eye out. Haven't seen anything suspicious." "But you have felt it. So have I. One develops certain instincts." "One does," Ramses agreed. He couldn't help asking the question. "Have you dreamed of Abdullah lately?" "You've always scoffed at those dreams." "Now, Mother, I never have." Nor had he, not in so many words. When she first spoke of those unusual, vivid dreams of their former reis, he had been happy she believed in their reality, for they comforted her. Abdullah had sacrificed his life to save hers, but the bond between them had already been strong. She and the old Egyptian had come to care for each other in a way he would once have believed impossible, considering the differences in their backgrounds and beliefs. Gratitude and strong affection, the denial of loss, might reasonably account for her need to believe the people she had loved were not gone from her forever. He couldn't say precisely when he had begun to share her faith in her dreams. Perhaps it was the sheer strength of her belief. "I will certainly ask him about Sethos when next I see him," she said, straight-faced. "Until I do I will have to rely on less reliablesources. I mean to call on Mr. Smith while I am in Cairo. He wouldn't confide information in a telegram, but a face-to-face interview may be more productive." Ramses didn't doubt that. She had her methods. "Shall I give him your regards?" she asked. She knew how he felt about Smith, who exemplified to him the faults of the intelligence services. They didn't give a damn about how many lives they destroyed in the pursuit of their self-defined duty. He had hated every second of the time he spent working for them. "No," he said. I had a busy day in Cairo, one that taxed even my energy. I had not made an appointment with M. Lacau, but I did not anticipate any difficulty in seeing him, and so it proved. I think he was so relieved to find himself dealing with me instead of with Emerson that he would