Phantoms of the Pharaoh (A Lady Marmalade Mystery Book 4)

by Jason Blacker

  "Are you up for a short walkabout, dear?" asked Captain Wainscott, hopefully. "I'd love to take a look at the Sphinx."

  "NO!" exclaimed Lady Pompress, a little louder than she had probably wanted, "I'm not well. I just fainted not long ago and I'm still recovering. Have you no sympathy?"

  Captain Wainscott turned a little red.

  "Would you mind if I take a little look then? I won't be long. You've got fresh water here and I can have one of the waiters fan you if you'd like."

  "Timothy! Good God, have you lost your mind? I don't want one of these Arabs fanning me. Have you lost your mind? If you expect to become my husband you will stay with me. What sort of a man leaves his fragile, sick fiancée in an unknown country without any care and consideration."

  "Sorry, dear," he said, with his head bowed low, "I just thought you looked well enough."

  "I might look well, but I certainly do not feel well," she said.

  "Yes, dear."

  Frances smiled sadly towards Captain Wainscott. Though he was a grown man capable of making his own decisions, and if those decisions brought him great unhappiness, then that was his own doing.

  "Well," said Fowler, smiling and looking around at everyone under the canopy, "I suppose it's just us three then. Shall we?"

  Frances, Florence and Simon nodded their heads.

  They started off south towards the Great Sphinx.

  "This is the eastern cemetery here that you see in front of the queens' pyramids."

  Fowler arced his left hand over the many tombs and mastabas that littered their view to the west.

  "These tombs or mastabas are burial places for the lesser royals and family members of Khufu or Cheops. As you can see, the mastaba is a rectangular flat roofed tomb with slopping stepped sides. They generally predate the pyramids as a form of burial, though these ones are thought to have been built around the same time as the pyramids were being built."

  Simon nodded his head.

  "Who were the sorts of family members to be buried here?" he asked.

  "That's a good question. We haven't fully identified everyone who was buried here but we have uncovered the identity of many. For example, this largest mastaba right here in front was made for Prince Ankhhaf. Ankhhaf was the vizier to Khafre..."

  "Vizier?" asked Simon.

  "Yes, sort of a chief political advisor and overseer of the construction of the complex. Ankhhaf was the son of Sneferu also known as Soris. He was also the younger half brother to Khufu. They shared the same father but different mothers. He was obviously quite influential as can be attested to by the size of his mastaba."

  "How do you remember all of this?" asked Florence, as they continued to walk towards the Sphinx.

  Fowler turned to look at Florence and he smiled at her. Both she and Frances carried umbrellas above their heads which greatly reduced the heat. Behind them followed a waiter with a jug of water in his one hand and paper cups in his other.

  "Just time," answered Fowler, "that's all. I've been doing this for five years now. I think it helps that I enjoy it."

  Under the canopy, Abigail and Albert approached the bus. Darius was seated on a small wooden stool smoking a cigarette. He stood up as they came by.

  "We need to get at our luggage, please," said Albert.

  "Yes, sir," said Darius. He put his cigarette in the glass ashtray by his feet and went round to the back of the bus where the opened up the luggage compartment.

  "Would you like for me to get it?" asked Darius.

  "No, thank you," said Albert.

  Albert reached into the compartment and grabbed his bag and then his sister's. He pulled them out and stood them up on the dry compacted dirt floor. He took each one in turn and put it on the far side of the bus. He and Abigail went round and opened up the luggage. Darius watched them out of the corner of his eye.

  "Some privacy, please," said Albert to Darius quite sternly.

  Darius walked around to the near side of the bus and waited for them. Albert and Abigail wrapped up some of the jewelry, including the ankh and bowl and other items in clothing and stuffed them into a rucksack that Albert took out of his suitcase.

  "This is not a good idea," he said to her. "These are ours and we should keep them. I don't think any good will come from giving them back."

  "But we can't sell any of it, Al, and if we can't sell any of it, what good will come from owning it. We might not have taken them but they're still not ours."

  "But we can't just leave them, they'll be swiped. I know a lot of people who would kill to have these in their hands."

  "We'll find a way," said Abigail.

  Albert sighed and shook his head. He didn't like the idea. He was certain he could find some buyers back home on the black market who would pay a decent sum, and God knows that both he and Abigail could make use of the money.

  They packed away the jewels and other artifacts into the rucksack which Albert put over his back. He returned to the near side of the bus after closing and locking their luggage and placing it back into the bus.

  "Thank you, Darius," said Albert, "we've finished with our luggage."

  Darius got up from his stool and put his cigarette out into the ashtray. He put the ashtray on the stool.

  "So I close it now?" he asked.

  Albert nodded. He looked at his sister.

  "I think it's probably best we go to the queen's pyramid around the west side of Khufu's pyramid just to be safe," he whispered.

  "Come on, Al, nobody's going to follow us."

  "You don't know that for sure. Everyone can come and go as they please. I don't trust any of the others except for Frances and her friend Florence."

  "You can't honestly believe that anyone in the group has actually followed us here from London to rob us. That's preposterous."

  Albert and Abigail walked around the north side of the eastern cemetery, heading towards the north side of the Great Pyramid of Giza.

  "No, I don't think anyone would be that stupid, but we could be watched and they might make their way into the pyramid after they've seen us enter it. If they are watching, they'll know that we've gone into the queen's pyramid only to enter into the secret chambers of Menkaure's pyramids."

  "Albert!" exclaimed Abigail, as they started to head west along the north side of the eastern cemetery towards Khufu's pyramid, "you are paranoid, aren't you?"

  Albert stopped and turned to look at his sister. He was grim faced.

  "Listen," he said, quite firmly, "I have my reasons all right. I didn't want to do this in the first place. We need the money, but they're yours so I'm obliged to help you. But these are extremely valuable and there are many who would kill us to get their hands on these priceless gems. So I'd rather not give them the chance. I'd also rather not let them find out where we're taking them. Which in and of itself sounds like a ridiculous idea."

  "Albert, dear brother, we don't have a choice. We can't just pop into the Egyptian museum and just say, 'oh hello, we found these little items recently and thought you might like them back'. We'll be arrested and thrown into a Cairo jail. Is that what you'd like?"

  Albert shook his head. His sister had a point. Abigail touched his shoulder and smiled at him.

  "Look, I'm so happy that you've decided to help me with this. But even though we didn't steal them, we have no proof of that. These items are known as some of the missing items from the King's chamber. We need to act discreetly. Once we're on the boat, at the earliest convenience, we'll tell the boat captain that we saw someone enter the queen's pyramid and after they left we entered and found some missing jewels had been returned."

  Albert nodded slowly and sighed.

  "Very well," he said. "Let's just get this over and done with."

  He looked at his watch and walked onward. From the canopy, the others watched Albert and Abigail disappear as they passed across the north face of the Great Pyramid of Giza.

  "I wonder why they're taking another look at Khufu's pyramid?" asked C
aptain Wainscott, absentmindedly.

  "They're not," said Samuel, though nobody heard him.

  Nigel got up from his chair and went over to the bus where he had Darius open up the back of the bus. He extracted his suitcase and pulled out a small rucksack and a canteen. He came back to the canopy and had a waiter fill up his canteen with fresh water. He turned around and said to no one in particular, "I'm going to make the most of the rest of our time. Anyone wish to join me?"

  He got no takers, and so he walked off into the eastern cemetery to explore. Samuel went over to the bus and pulled out his suitcase and took out a small hand bag that looked like a doctor's bag. Maurice joined him and looked at Samuel's bag.

  "You hoping to do an autopsy on one of those mummies, are you?"

  Maurice asked, keeping a lit cigarette in the corner of his mouth.

  "You never know," said Samuel.

  He picked up his bag and left Maurice to himself. Maurice found the American quite rude. He shrugged and pulled out his own large suitcase. Inside he took out a rucksack that was really just a canvas bag with a drawstring close on the top and two leather straps for the shoulders. He put it casually over his one shoulder and headed south towards the Sphinx.

  Captain Wainscott looked up and watched the three men disappear. Samuel went off after Nigel, but whereas Nigel went directly west into the eastern cemetery, Samuel went more to the southwest area of the eastern cemetery.

  "That's curious," he said, "I wonder why those gentleman all had to take their rucksacks out at this late stage of the day."

  He turned around and smiled feebly at Lady Pompress. She sighed and shook her head at him.

  "Why do you always have to be such a bother?" she asked exasperatedly.

  "I am not," he said, quite defensively, "I haven't bothered anyone. I'm just curios, that's all."

  He brushed his mustache flat with his thumb and index finger of his right hand.

  "You are so. You are such a nosey busy body. No wonder you haven't got any friends."

  "I do have friends, dear. It's just difficult to see them now that most of them have families."

  That wasn't exactly the truth. The main problem was that none of his friends liked Lady Pompress and she hardly let him out of her sight. But he didn't mind, he was certain that once they were married he would regain his position as the man of the manor so to speak, and he'd have access to her money which would him quite a bit. It had cost him a small fortune in trying to court her, and he had accumulated more debt now than he could ever manage repaying without the assistance of her wealth.

  "Aren't you curious why they've all taken rucksacks?" he said, standing and looking down at her.

  "No, I'm not. And really, Timmy, you brought a rucksack yourself. Why don't you take it out then if it'll make you feel any better," she said.

  "I would if you'd let me go and have a bit of a look and see."

  "You're welcome to do as you please, but remember, Timothy, there are consequences to every action, and as my fiancé, I expect better."

  "Very well," he said, sighing as he sat back down.

  He watched the two men for a while longer, until he lost them behind some larger mastabas. He turned towards Lady Pompress and started to fan her half-heartedly. He looked down towards the Sphinx. Maurice was quite behind Fowler, Frances, Florence and Simon. The four of them were standing on the north side of the Sphinx and Fowler was talking and gesticulating about something or other.

  Maurice finally caught up with them, but passed them to the east by several feet. Frances saw him walk past without acknowledging them as he started off towards the Valley Temple of Menkaure, slightly south and west from the Sphinx.

  "This Great Sphinx of Giza," continued Fowler, resting his right hand below the head, "is the largest monolith statue in the world. It was also believed to have been built during the time when the Pyramid of Khafre was being built."

  "I think I'll take a picture of the Sphinx," said Florence.

  "Why don't you let me take a picture of you with it," said Frances.

  "That would be wonderful."

  Florence positioned herself on the north side under the head.

  "Would you join me please, Perry?" asked Florence.

  "Certainly."

  He stood next to her and clasped his hands behind his back.

  Frances looked at the protruding lower jaw, the prognathism of the profile was odd, and she wondered about it but didn't ask. She focused in on them and took the picture and then handed the camera back to Florence.

  Fowler continued with his talk.

  "Many have wondered what happened to the nose of the Sphinx," said Fowler. "Clearly there was a nose on it at one point. Do any of you have any idea about what might have happened to it?"

  Fowler looked around at the three of them. Florence shrugged.

  "It came off due to erosion," said Simon.

  "That's a fair and reasonable suggestion, but I'm afraid it's not true. Frances?"

  "I'm afraid I'm at an unfair advantage. Having been here before, I do know, but I know you'll tell it much better."

  She smiled at him and he nodded his head at her.

  "It is believed that a Muslim by the name of Muhammad Sa'im al-Dahr found peasants offering up gifts to the Sphinx in the hope that their harvest would be more bountiful. Muhammad was outraged by this and took chisels and rods to the nose and broke it off."

  "Good Lord!" exclaimed Florence.

  "Quite," said Fowler. "Though justice was served. He was hanged for the vandalism."

  "That seems like harsh punishment."

  "To us. Though this occurred back in the early fourteenth century. At least this is what an Arab historian writing in the fifteenth century suggested happened. Others have blamed the British, of course. We're often to blame for many things, whether or not we did them, seems irrelevant."

  "And which version do you give more credence to, Perry?" asked Frances.

  "I find the Arab historian's version most compelling. You see there were drawings by a Danish naval captain by the name of Frederic Louis Norden who drew the Sphinx in the mid eighteenth century, and his drawings show no nose. The British weren't in Egypt until the late nineteenth century, which gives us a rather good alibi, I believe."

  He smiled at Frances and she nodded in return. They walked around to the south side of the Sphinx and stood towards its rear. Frances looked west towards the Pyramid of Menkaure. She saw what looked like Albert and Abigail walking towards the entrance to the eastern most queen's pyramid behind Menkaure's. They were crossing in front of Menkaure's funerary temple.

  Lady Marmalade couldn't be certain it was them, they were after all about a half a mile away, but the air was clear and she recognized them from their clothes and Abigail's parasol.

  "Most of the Sphinx, until the late nineteenth century was under a lot of sand that had covered it over the past four, almost five thousand years," said Fowler. "Sand covered it almost to the height of its rump, and almost up to its neck. In fact, it wasn't until about ten years ago that the Sphinx had been fully excavated thanks to the French Egyptologist Émile Baraize."

  Frances saw Maurice lingering by the tomb of Queen Khentkawes, about eight hundred feet away from her in a southwesterly direction. She thought it quite curious as he was just walking around the tomb not really paying attention to what he was looking at. It appeared to Frances that he kept glancing over towards the Pyramid of Menkaure.

  "Are there any chambers inside the Sphinx?" asked Simon.

  "There were," said Fowler. "Émile found a passageway at the rear of the Sphinx, right over here." Fowler walked behind the Sphinx and the three of them followed him. He pointed squarely at the middle of the Sphinx's rear. "You might even see that the rear at the bottom here, looks different. That's because Émile took a look in the passageway and finding nothing decided to seal it up."

  Fowler walked around the north side of the Sphinx and stood halfway between the front and rear paws.


  "Émile also found a second passageway here," he said, pointing at another area that looked smoother than the rest. "He also found this passageway led nowhere and so he sealed it up."

  "Sounds to me like he might have been trying to hide something. Otherwise, why seal up the passageways so that others can't explore them?" asked Simon.

  "You ask good questions, Mr. Gragg. You should consider becoming an Egyptologist."

  That made Simon beam with pride, and as he smiled it crinkled the scar on the left side of his face. It made him look ruggedly handsome, smiling like that.

  "You might be onto something with that line of thought," continued Fowler. "Émile said he closed up the passages for safety as he found the Sphinx to be in poor shape. However, others believe that Émile was hiding something. They think that the passageways lead to hidden subterranean chambers. The great psychic, Edgar Cayce, believed that the passageways hide the Hall of Records."

  "And what exactly are those?" asked Simon.

  "The Hall of Records is believed by Cayce to be contained below the Sphinx and house the only records of the lost civilization of Atlantis which were brought to Egypt by the last Atlantean survivors."

  Simon grinned.

  "That sounds more like it."

  "It does indeed sound quite a bit more interesting," added Florence, looking at Frances. "Doesn't it?"

  Frances looked back at her friend. She had just seen Nigel and Samuel wondering around independently by the boat pits on the south side of the funerary temple of Khafre.

  "What was that, Flo?" she asked.

  "I was just saying how interesting this conspiracy about the Hall of Records having been sealed off inside the Sphinx is."

  "Oh yes, quite curious," said Frances.

  "Well, ladies and gentleman, this concludes your tour of the Sphinx. I make it just after four, so you have the next fifteen to twenty minutes to do any last minute exploration you might like," said Fowler.

  "I think I'll take a quick look into the secret chambers of Menkaure's Pyramid. See if I can't find any spoils," said Simon grinning.

  "You might want to hurry," said Fowler. "You don't have a lot of time."