Table of Contents
Phantoms of the Pharaoh (A Lady Marmalade Mystery, #8)
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
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Phantoms of the Pharaoh (A Lady Marmalade Mystery)
by
Jason Blacker
PUBLISHED BY:
Lemon Tree Publishing
Copyright © 2013
Jason Blacker
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Editing: Andrea Anesi
One
The summer of 1895 was hot in Cairo, and especially here in Giza, as most summers were. But this particular summer was especially annoying to Howard Trenglove. For weeks he and his companion, Arthur Vipond had been trying to find the hidden chamber in the Pyramid of Menkaure. It had been rumored to exist but no one had ever found it.
Richard Vyse who had first discovered the upper antechamber in 1835 and then the basalt sarcophagus which he believed carried the remains of Menkaure, never made mention of a secret chamber. Nevertheless, Trenglove had it on what he believed to be good authority that such a chamber existed, and it was filled with treasures that men like him can only dream of.
How had he come to believe in something that nobody had ever claimed to have found? Like all good pirates and other rapscallions he had paid for the information. A sum of one hundred and fifty pounds he had paid to a man named Leith Walker who had been on the dig with Richard Vyse when Vyse had uncovered the basalt sarcophagus in 1835.
Walker claimed that later that evening on that fateful day when Vyse found the sarcophagus, Walker went back into the pyramid and discovered a secret chamber filled with so much gold and jewels the likes of which man had never seen before. Or so the story went. Walker also claimed that it was booby trapped. He had tried to steal a gold chalice when the small hidden entrance he had entered into this chamber started to close in on him.
He managed to escape with his life, but not without breaking both his legs as he tumbled down the steep shaft that had led him to the chamber. And this was why he sold the information to Trenglove. When Trenglove had found him at a retirement home in Manchester the year before, Walker was a feeble man of seventy-seven, stuck in a wheelchair, and babbling on about his glory days.
But there was something about Walker and the way he told the story that Trenglove believed him. He had to believe him, for he had paid Walker what was for him a large sum of money. In fact, it had been his life savings to that point.
Trenglove sat across from Vipond at an outdoor cafe in the middle of Giza. The odd fly buzzed around, and when it landed he hammered his fist down upon it, though he kept missing, and this was infuriating him as much as the oppressive heat.
It was mid-afternoon and Vipond looked at Trenglove with bemusement on his face.
"What's so funny?" asked Trenglove.
The two of them were dressed the same. Khaki pants and a short sleeved khaki shirt. Sweat rolled down the side of both Vipond's temples as he took off his safari hat, and placed it on the table. They were in the shade, if a threadbare canopy that hung sagging above them could be considered shade. Vipond took a damp handkerchief from his trouser pocket and mopped his brow.
The two of them were slim which was about the only thing in common they shared. Vipond was a few inches shorter than his tall and gangly colleague. They both had brown, damp, short hair though Vipond's was curly. He looked at Trenglove through green distant eyes.
"You're only making it worse on yourself. This oppressive heat is going to drive you mad if you keep your anger up like that."
Trenglove looked at his friend through brown, beady eyes as he sipped at his coffee in a small white cup. He turned his chair at a ninety degree angle to Vipond and looked out at the busy market square. Hagglers were everywhere, and all sorts of things were being bought and sold. Trenglove took off his hat and rest it upon his knee.
"We've been out here for three weeks now," he said, as if talking to some imaginary figure in front of him, "and we still can't bloody well find what we're looking for."
Trenglove didn't look at his friend. He took another sip of coffee. And for the love of God, he couldn't remember why he had chosen coffee on such an oppressively hot day. He put his cup down on the saucer on the table, and stared at the merchants while he ground his teeth.
Vipond watched Trenglove's jaw bulge and sag, as if it helped Trenglove move the mechanisms of his brain.
"Well, I asked you if he thought the information was good, and now I'm doubting you," said Vipond.
Trenglove didn't look at his friend, he kept his eye on the busyness of the market.
"Walker was here back in '35. He knew what he saw."
"But you don't know that what he saw is what he told you."
"A hundred and fifty pounds says I believe he told me what he saw."
"Or a hundred and fifty pounds requires you to believe."
Trenglove slammed his hand down on the table and coffee leapt from his cup in fear and dashed itself upon the brown table. Vipond leaned back in his chair, calmly watching his friend. He had seen outbursts like this before, but they were becoming more frequent. Vipond couldn't decide who was the greater fool. Trenglove for paying a hundred and fifty pounds for the information, or himself, for having paid that amount to get the two of them here.
"You don't have to stick around if you don't want any share of the spoils," said Trenglove, looking at a merchant arguing with a customer over a pair of trousers.
"In for a penny, in for a pound, and I'm in as much as you are now. But I won't go any further," said Vipond. "By the end of this week, if we haven't made progress, we're finished with this wild goose chase."
"We'll find it by then, I'm sure of it. I have a feeling."
Trenglove and his feelings. It had been his feelings that he had used to hoodwink Vipond into coming onto this expedition. Though if truth be told, they both needed a spot of good fortune. Vipond was just about broke. He'd taken the last of his savings to fund this fool's errand, and if it didn't pay off he'd be destitute, with nothing to his name. Same was true of Trenglove, though he w
as a better swindler than Vipond and would find his way into some other scheme. For Vipond though, this was the end of the road, and if it didn't work out, well, he didn't like to think about the options available to him.
"After all this time, you're still full of bounding optimism even though your demeanor says otherwise."
Trenglove turned around to face his friend and his mouth turned down.
"What other choice do we have at this stage? You know my situation, and I know yours. We're beggars if this doesn't work out for us. And nobody likes a beggar. You can leave if you want, but I won't. I've spent my life savings to get to this point and there's no turning back. If we don't find the bloody chamber we'll make one."
Vipond looked at Trenglove steadily. He mopped at his brow again.
"Tell me why you still have so much faith in this man, Walker?"
Trenglove sat back in his chair, facing the market. He waved off the fly that he could not kill.
"I've told you that at least a dozen times."
"And you'll tell me a dozen more if you want my continued assistance," said Vipond.
Trenglove looked at Vipond for moment and glared at him. Then he went back to watching a tourist getting robbed, not aware of the proper approach to haggling. When your life, your very existence is a haggle, you learn the art very swiftly. Trenglove grabbed his hat and fanned his face with it. The air wasn't even cool, it felt like hot dog's breath. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out his own damp handkerchief that had been white not long ago. Now it looked as if it had been washed in weak coffee. He dabbed it at his forehead and at the sides of his temples.
If there was a hell, he was surely living in it, and its name was Giza. What had started out about a month ago as a trip full of friendly hope and shared dreams had turned into the bitter, sour dregs of dashed chances. Vipond had seemed like such an amiable chap, but he had become a turncoat, and a coward. Ready to leave at the first sign of trouble. At least that is what Trenglove felt. This also happened to mirror the thoughts that Vipond had about Trenglove.
"Leith Walker was an honest man..."
"And he took your hundred and fifty pounds," said Vipond, with a bit of bile in his voice.
Trenglove smirked towards the marketplace as the tourist walked away with a dress, smiling as if she'd gotten a deal, when in fact she'd just been robbed in broad daylight. But the smirk was not meant for her, it was meant, rather, for Vipond.
"If we find this chamber, and I believe we will," said Trenglove, turning to look at his friend with eyes as hot as the blazing Egyptian sun, "I will never forget to remind you of this moment."
"And I'll be happy to be reminded."
Trenglove looked back over at the merchant counting out his piastre coins and grinning wickedly. If he was sure of one thing, it was that the Egyptians were shrewd business men, and they had already cost him the equivalent of tens of pounds for information that had been highly suspect. No, this week, he and Vipond would venture out on their own to access the Pyramid of Menkaure.
"You see that man over there," said Trenglove, pointing with his chin in the direction of the merchant. Vipond nodded. "He just robbed that woman in broad daylight."
"Really?" asked Vipond, sounding somewhat incredulous.
"Well, not really, but he might as well have done it. She didn't haggle him and he charged her five times the regular price for a dress she bought."
"Interesting, but how does this have anything to do with Walker?" asked Vipond.
"Everything," said Trenglove, talking towards the Egyptian merchant. "We're going to find this chamber and its gold and we're going to rob these people blind. They have no idea what riches are right in front of them, and because of that we're going to take it."
Trenglove wiped at his face again. Then he wrung out his handkerchief and lay it flat across the table to dry out. Vipond sipped on his tea. It was now warm, but at least it was hydrating.
"That's a nice sentiment," he said, "but it still doesn't bring me comfort in what Walker told you."
"I told you," said Trenglove. "Walker was an invalid, he was in a wheelchair and he showed me the scars and the deformities on his legs. I don't know how else he would have gotten those except in some serious accident the kinds of which he spoke about in finding the secret chamber in the pyramid. He showed me papers written between him and Richard Vyse, and the last one where he was dismissed from Vyse's employment. He worked for that man and he was there in Cairo working at those pyramids in Giza. His passport confirms this. You don't think I'd just hand over my life savings to any man without a good and thorough check."
Vipond chose not to respond to that. He had known Trenglove for a few years. They had worked together in the coal mines of Barnsley, South Yorkshire. Trenglove was a dreamer, he had said he had heard that there were still lots of treasures to be uncovered in Egypt, though at that time it was all rumors.
"Of course Walker wanted to get paid. His information is valuable, and I think I got quite the deal actually. We could have access to tens, maybe even hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of gold."
"We could if we ever found it."
"We will, I believe our Egyptian guides have been misleading us, and perhaps they've been doing so on purpose."
"Why?"
"So they can find the treasure for themselves. Walker told me you had to be careful with what information you share. I had to develop a relationship with him for over a year before he was comfortable telling me about this secret chamber and the treasures it hides."
"That sounds all good, but one could argue he was just a lonely old man, happy for any sort of friendship, and he was just milking it out for as long as he could."
Trenglove picked up his hat again and fanned his face. The sun would soon be dipping below the canopy and they'd be in the heat of the afternoon sun. That wasn't somewhere where Trenglove wanted to be.
"I never told you this, because I thought it might prevent you from supporting this trip."
Vipond now leaned in, and rested his elbows on the table and looked at Trenglove with a frown.
"What do you mean there's something you didn't tell me. I'll walk now, I tell you, and you'll hear from my solicitor."
Vipond's voice was getting louder and as it did it hit the squeaky tones in his otherwise tenor voice. Trenglove tried not to smile, but whenever Vipond got upset his voice hit the high register quickly. It was comical, and hard to take him seriously. Trenglove put up his hand.
"It's not like that. There is just one small item that I have withheld, and I'm sure you'll not hold it against me when I tell you what it is."
"And what is it, damn you, tell me now!"
Vipond slammed his hand down against the table, rattling their cups as they shook in fear on top of their saucers. This also drew looks from others who were nearby. Trenglove leaned in.
"Listen," he said, quietly, "if you continue this outburst I won't say."
He stopped and looked at Vipond for a long while. Vipond crossed his arms in front of himself.
"Fine, tell me, but I warn you..."
He didn't finish the sentence. Trenglove fished a folded and damp piece of paper out of his shirt pocket, and held it in clammy hands.
"This is perhaps the most important reason as to why I believe Walker is telling the truth."
Trenglove waved his hand around with the paper as he spoke.
"And what is that exactly?" asked Vipond, still folding his arms crossly in front.
Trenglove smiled with delicious anticipation.
"Not only did Walker get me to pay him that large amount of money, but he also demanded that I share the spoils of this find with him at fifty percent."
"My God," said Vipond, becoming unhinged and dragging his hands through his hair. "Are you completely mad?" He managed to keep his voice down, but there was anger and bewilderment in his voice. "What were you thinking?"
"It's not that bad," said Trenglove, "I haggled him down to ten percent.
That's all we have to share with him, a measly ten percent of our find, and of course we'll not itemize everything we find. Listen, the thing is, why would he ask for fifty percent of nothing? Perhaps even more telling, why would he be willing to settle for ten percent of nothing?"
Trenglove watched Vipond for a while as Vipond started to think through what he had just heard. Fifty percent was indeed outrageous, but ten percent wasn't that bad. If there was even a fraction of truth to what Walker had told Trenglove, then their share would make them millionaires, even if they had to pay Walker ten percent. Vipond looked up at Trenglove after some time.
"I suppose you're right," he said at last. "Why would he settle for ten percent if he knew there was nothing there."
Trenglove nodded.
"What's that in your hand by the way?" asked Vipond.
Trenglove looked at the folded piece of paper in his hand and delicately unfolded it and placed it face down on the table for Vipond to see, careful to find a dry spot for it.
"This is the agreement our barristers wrote between Walker and me," he said.
Vipond nodded.
"I see, then we better make sure we find the treasure," said Vipond, reading the document, "or it looks like you'll owe him another one hundred and fifty pounds, which I'm certain you don't have."
Trenglove folded up the piece of paper and put it back in his pocket where it had come from. He shrugged and looked at his friend.
"O ye of little faith. We'll find that treasure by the end of this week or my name's not Howard Trenglove," he said.
Vipond smiled at last and looked at his friend with the first sign of kindness that Trenglove had seen in over two weeks.
"A celebration is on me then. Tonight we eat and drink our fill and tomorrow night we'll get that treasure."
Trenglove cocked his head.
"We will, my doubting Thomas. We will."
Two
The boat ride across the Mediterranean had taken Lady Marmalade two days. It was glorious and wonderfully relaxing. She had been accompanied by her very dear friend Florence Hudnall.
It was Lady Marmalade's idea for the two of them to visit Egypt. Frances hadn't been to Egypt for over ten years, and Florence had never had the chance to visit.
Phantoms of the Pharaoh (A Lady Marmalade Mystery Book 4) Page 1
