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"But Miss Julie will be so angry, sir. This is her house, sir. And you mustn't touch that, sir, why, it's Mr. Lawrence's discovery."
Hancock stared at the five gold Cleopatra coins in their case.
"But the coins could have been stolen in Cairo, sir. Before the collection was cataloged."
"Yes, of course, you're absolutely right," Hancock said. He turned and glared at the mummy case.
Julie poured the wine in his glass. He merely looked at it.
"Won't you try to explain?" she whispered. "You recognized it. You knew it. That has to be it."
For hours he'd sat there in silence. The late afternoon sun burned through the sheer curtains. The overhead fan churned slowly, monotonously, giving off a dull groan.
She didn't want to cry again.
"But it couldn't be ..." No. She couldn't bring herself even to suggest it. Yet she thought of the woman again; of the gold tiara in her hair, now black and glossy as all the rest of her. "It's not possible that it's she...."
Slowly Ramses turned and looked at her. Hard and brilliant his blue eyes were.
"Not possible!" His voice was low, hoarse, no more than an agonized whisper. "Not possible! You've dug up thousands of the Egyptian dead. You've raided their pyramids, their desert tombs, their catacombs. What is not possible!"
"Oh, my God." The tears flowed down her cheeks.
"Mummies stolen, traded, sold," he said. "Was there any man, woman or child ever buried in this land whose body has not been defiled, if not displayed, or dismembered? What is not possible!"
For a moment it seemed he'd lose control altogether; but then he was quiet, merely staring at her again. And then his eyes went dim as if he had not seen her. He sat back in the little chair.
"We don't have to stay in Cairo any longer if you don't want...."
Again he turned slowly and looked at her. It was as if he were waking from a daze, that he had not just spoken to her.
"No!" he said. "We cannot leave. Not now. I don't want to leave...."
And then his voice trailed off as if he'd just realized what he was saying. He rose and walked slowly out of the room, not even glancing back at her.
She saw the door close; she heard his tread in the hall; and then her tears flowed again.
What was she to do? What would comfort him? If she used all her influence, could she possibly have the body in the museum removed from public view and given proper burial? Not likely. The request would seem whimsical and foolish. Why, countless royal mummies were on display!
But even if she could accomplish such a thing, she feared it would not help now. It was the mere sight of the thing, not its desecration, which had crushed him.
The two officers from Scotland Yard watched the man from the British Museum uneasily.
"We should go now, sir. We don't have a court order to be disturbing the mummy's coffin. We came to check the coins, and we've done it."
"Nonsense," Hancock said. "We should check everything now while we have the court order. We came to see that the collection is intact. I want to see that the mummy's unharmed before I leave here."
"But, sir," Oscar intervened.
"Don't say another word, my good man. Your mistress ran off to Cairo and left a priceless treasure here. She did not have our permission." He turned to the two officers of the law. "Open the thing," he said sharply.
"Well, I don't like this, sir, I really don't," Trent said.
Hancock pushed past him and hefted the lid himself before the two men could stop him. Galton tried to catch it before the bottom struck the floor. Oscar gave a little gasp.
Inside stood the mummy, shrunken, blackened.
"What the hell is going on here!" Hancock raged.
