Hattie wondered what she could do. Would Omar Shaydi listen to her? She could only try. She sidled up beside him. “Where is Amal’s school?” she said brightly. “Is it near here? It sounds so interesting! Mathematics and science and chemistry and – and all that. I should like to see it. It is so important, don’t you think? That girls should be doctors and teachers, and librarians, and – and lawyers.”
Omar Shaydi was not fooled for an instant. He smiled, glanced at Amal, and then back at Hattie. “And some girls should not go to school, yet become archaeologists and Egyptologists and learn to translate hieroglyphs? Do not be concerned, Miss Hatshepsut. I have watched my Amal. I see how she loves her books. She has studied hard to keep up with her work. My family may not approve, but my Amal will go to school, and learn as much as she likes.”
Amal’s face lit up.
Hattie and Amal said cordial farewells. They promised to write.
“You will write and tell me what you are learning at school?” said Hattie.
Amal laughed at her. “And you will pretend to be interested and understand what I am learning about mathematics and science,” she teased. “And you will write and tell me what you are learning about reading hieroglyphs and those ancient, dusty tombs and I will pretend to be interested.”
“You will tell me about your family, your father and your mother and your grandparents and aunts,” said Hattie. “You are so fortunate to have such a family.”
Amal’s face became serious. “I know. But you have a family also, your great-aunt and great-uncle and I know, I just know, you will never be sent off to school again. They would never think of such a thing.”
Hattie nodded. “We will meet again, I am sure.”
“We will.”
Perhaps Hattie would come to Egypt again. Perhaps Amal would journey to England, and visit Crumblin Castle. “And meet the kittens!” Amal insisted. They shook hands. They hesitated, then smiled and hugged, long and tight.
Then Amal was gone.
There were a few days in Cairo while their baggage was packed for the journey back to England. The carpets, Omar Shaydi informed them, had been safely nailed into a crate and would be loaded onto their ship at Alexandria.
Hattie and Great-uncle Sisyphus paid a visit to Professor Helman’s house and were told that, unfortunately, they had missed him. The Professor had returned to London, and his museum, for a time. “Pity,” Great-uncle Sisyphus sighed. “Splendid fellow. Still, we may catch up with him in London at some time.” Hattie hoped so. She would very much like to see his museum, and to hear his opinion on the necklace that was part of her Egyptian costume. Great-uncle Sisyphus was sure it was of no worth, but it had always seemed special to Hattie.
Omar Shaydi was at the station when they left Cairo. He intended to escort them all the way to Alexandria – to ensure, he said, that their baggage was loaded onto their ship without mistake.
And it was. There were certainly officials on the dock in Alexandria, carefully scrutinising luggage for contraband antiquities. Hattie saw one lady being asked to open her travelling trunks, and the officials excitedly uncovering several rolls of papyrus. The lady was asked to accompany the officials to their office.
“What will happen to her?” Hattie asked Omar Shaydi.
Omar Shaydi shrugged. “A fine. The papyrus may be confiscated. She may even be allowed to keep it. It depends on whether it is of historical importance.”
Great-aunt Iphigenia watched the incident and turned rather pale. She was not happy until Omar Shaydi assured her that their luggage had been inspected and the crate of carpets had been passed without comment.
“Now you must go on board,” Omar Shaydi said. “And I must say goodbye. It has been the greatest pleasure to accompany you on your journey on the Nile, and to do business with you.”
“And with you also,” said Great-uncle Sisyphus, shaking his hand heartily.
“Our many thanks,” said Great-aunt Iphigenia. “And it is not really goodbye, is it? We will be corresponding with you many times in the future, I hope.”
“I hope this also,” said Omar Shaydi. “Miss Hatshepsut, goodbye for now. I am sure I will see you in Egypt again.”
Hattie bobbed a curtsey. “I hope so too, Mr Shaydi. I greatly enjoyed meeting Amal and your family.”
“Come then, Hattie,” said Great-aunt Iphigenia, and they walked up the gangway onto their ship. Glancing behind, Hattie saw Omar Shaydi and the Ravens making their farewells. They seemed, she thought, to have a great deal to say to each other.
The journey back to London was uneventful. The ship back to Brindisi. Train through Italy, then through France. A ferry from Calais to Dover. Train to London. At each change of transportation, Great-aunt Iphigenia and the Ravens carefully watched their luggage being transferred. Though they no longer had to be concerned with inspections by antiquities officials, they were anxious to ensure that no pieces, especially the crate containing the carpets, should go astray.
They stayed overnight at a hotel in London. There, a message awaited the Ravens. It had been sent to Crumblin Castle and forwarded from there, awaiting their arrival at the hotel. Who had sent it on from Crumblin Castle, Hattie wondered? Then she smiled. Sekhmet, of course.
Edgar Raven read it as they sat at tea. “A request for an unwrapping party,” he said. “That is very satisfactory.” He paused. “However, the writer, Lady Strathcair, expresses a desire to arrange the details in person. I wonder –” He turned to Great-aunt Iphigenia.
“Yes, Edgar?”
“I wonder if it would be most convenient if Edwina and I stayed on for a day or two and called on Lady Strathcair? It would save another trip to London.”
“That seems very efficient,” said Great-aunt Iphigenia. “By all means, Edgar. Sisyphus and Hattie and I will go on ahead, with the luggage, to Crumblin Castle.”
It was arranged.
The Ravens accompanied them to the station the next morning, and saw all the luggage safely placed on the train. Their trunks and suitcases and crates took up most of the space in the luggage van. The Ravens helped to carry the hand luggage to their first-class compartment, and stowed it on the overhead racks.
“Carts will meet you at Ely, to take the luggage to Crumblin Castle,” said Edgar Raven. “It is all arranged.”
“Thank you, Edgar,” said Great-aunt Iphigenia. “Always so efficient!”
The train gave a warning whistle and the guard shouted.
“We must go,” said Edwina Raven. “Edgar, have you Lady Strathcair’s address? And her letter?”
Edgar Raven opened his attache case, took out the letter, and put it safely in his pocket.
The train jerked, ready to start off, and two of the pieces of hand luggage from the overhead racks tumbled to the floor. There was a chorus of exclamations and everyone rushed to pick them up. One piece had burst open and the contents spilled out, causing more confusion. The guard shouted again, and blew his whistle.
“Edgar, Edwina, quickly, you must get off,” exclaimed Great-aunt Iphigenia. “We will take care of this. Goodbye! We will see you in a few days.”
The Ravens pulled the door open and leaped out of the slowly moving train. Looking back, Hattie saw Edgar Raven suddenly give a start, say something to his sister, and begin to run after the train. He was shouting something.
“What is Edgar saying?” asked Great-aunt Iphigenia.
“I don’t know,” Hattie said. “I can’t hear. Oh – oh – something about his attache case, I think.”
“His attache case? Has he forgotten it?”
They looked around. There appeared to be no attache case in the compartment. Then Hattie saw a brown shape under the jumble of hand luggage on the floor. “Oh, it is here,” she exclaimed. She picked it up and rushed to the window. Perhaps she could throw it to the Ravens, now disappearing behind them as the train picked up speed.
Then Hattie hesitated. Edgar Raven’s attache case. The case he never let out of his sight.
What, she wondered, might it contain? She held it tighter. Back on the platform, Edgar Raven gestured urgently to her to throw it, but Hattie did not. And then the train roared into a tunnel. They – and the attache case – were on their way to Crumblin Castle.
There was, of course, great consternation about the forgotten attache case.
“Edgar will be worried about it,” Great-aunt Iphigenia fretted.
“He knows we have it safe,” Great-uncle Sisyphus reminded her. “He knows it will be waiting for him at Crumblin Castle.”
“And we know he has the letter from Lady Strathcair,” Hattie said. “He has her address for the appointment.” She sat, holding the attache case protectively on her lap. “I’ll take good care of it,” she assured her great-aunt. “I can put it safely on his desk in the study to wait for their return.”
“Thank you, Hattie dear,” said Great-aunt Iphigenia. “I’m sure that will be best.”
She certainly would put it safely in the study, Hattie thought. But before she did so, she would certainly have a good look inside it.
Hattie was itching to inspect Edgar Raven’s attache case, but she had no opportunity to do so until they were well settled in at Crumblin Castle.
When they arrived at Ely, there was all the fuss of getting the luggage off the train, counting the number of trunks, suitcases and crates and accounting for them all, and then seeing them loaded onto the waiting carts and setting out for Crumblin Castle. Hattie made sure, before they set out, that all the carts had amulets of Sobek and Tawaret tied to them.
The castle appeared to have put on a beautiful day for them. There was no mist. It was cold, very cold. A light fall of snow had drifted over the castle like talcum powder sprinkled from a giant powderpuff. The water along the sides of the road and in the moat had the thinnest possible layer of crackling ice on it, clear as glass, and sparkling in the weak, wintry lemon sun. Reeds and bulrushes were encased in a glistening layer of frost. The castle had never looked so beautiful.
As they drove over the rattling bridge, the great door swung open and there stood Sekhmet, waiting for them, with the kittens leaping up and down and squeaking with excitement.
Hattie did not wait for the carriage to stop before she jumped down and raced to the door. The kittens ran to her, scrambling up her skirts, curling themselves around her neck, balancing on her shoulders. Hattie hugged armfuls of kittens, and did her best to greet Sekhmet in a proper manner. “It’s so good to be back!” she cried. “I’ve brought you more presents!” The kittens squeaked excitedly. Sekhmet inclined her elegant head gracefully and purred.
The drivers of the carts, sweating and grunting, transferred all the luggage into the castle and to its proper place. The last piece to be carried in was the crate containing the mummies.
“On my life, this here’s a heavy one,” the men complained as they shoved it up stairs, down corridors, around corners and finally into the mummy room. “You carrying bricks, missus?”
Great-aunt Iphigenia regarded them coolly. “Carpets,” she said firmly. “Just carpets.”
Finally, the only piece of luggage left standing in the great hall was Edgar Raven’s attache case. The last of the men, on his way out, picked it up. “Now where do this one go, missus?”
“Oh, to the study,” said Great-aunt Iphigenia. She indicated the door, across the great hall.
Hattie put her hand out quickly. “It’s all right,” she said. “I’ll take this one. I said I’d look after it.”
The man touched his forehead to her. “I’ll be off then,” he said. He leaned closer to Hattie and whispered, “Never had any more trouble with them obstructions in the fens since you gave us those there little heathen figures, miss. Much obliged, we are.”
Hattie smiled at him and hugged the attache case to her chest. As soon as Great-aunt Iphigenia had left the great hall, Hattie crossed to the study and opened the door. The room was cold; no fire had been lit for some time, but it was scrupulously clean. The kittens had clearly been doing their work.
Hattie placed the attache case on the Ravens’ very tidy desk and gently touched the catch. She listened. No one was coming. She opened the case.
Half an hour later, Hattie had divided the papers in the attache case into two piles. Just as Amal had demonstrated, she had added figures up, compared them, added them again. And then again. She leaned back in her chair with a thump. It was as she had thought. The figures did not match. The amounts the Ravens had been drawing from Great-aunt Iphigenia’s bank did not match the amounts that had been paid out for their expenses: their hotels, their meals, the hire of the Hetepheres and her crew, and the money that had been paid to the Shaydi brothers. There was quite a large discrepancy. So where had that money gone? Hattie had a very good idea. No wonder the Ravens wanted things to go on as they were for a few more years, she thought grimly. In a few more years, they would have amassed a more than sizeable sum on the side. Then, as Hattie had overheard them saying, they would be free as birds. Free as birds, on Great-aunt Iphigenia’s money. And they would have had their long-planned revenge on the Lambtons.
But what to do about it? Hattie wanted them stopped, exposed, the whole force of the law brought down on them. She could tell Great-aunt Iphigenia and Great-uncle Sisyphus, she supposed. But they trusted the Ravens implicitly. Hattie knew she would have to have proof, absolute proof, before Great-aunt Iphigenia and Great-uncle Sisyphus would act. The papers in the attache case might not be enough to convince Great-aunt Iphigenia that the Ravens were cheating her. Hattie looked at the cabinets full of correspondence, invoices and receipts. Perhaps she could find more instances of the Ravens’ devious dealings, going back over several years. Such as, she thought, the invoice and receipt from Peabody and Pruitt that had aroused her initial suspicions. Yes, that might be the way to proceed. The difficulty would be in accessing the files when the Ravens were not around. Well, they weren’t around at the moment. She would start tomorrow.
At dinner that evening, Hattie tried to prepare the way a little. “Great-aunt Iphigenia, I was just thinking,” she began.
“Yes, Hattie?”
“The papers in Mr Edgar’s attache case. Does he show them to you before he files them?”
Great-aunt Iphigenia blinked. “Why, no, Hattie. That is not necessary. Edgar and Edwina deal with all the paperwork.”
“I see.” Hattie lowered her eyes to her plate. “Aren’t you ever – curious – about them?”
“Curious about paperwork and accounts?” Great-aunt Iphigenia was amused. “I really cannot think of anything more tedious.”
Hattie was becoming desperate. “And Mr Edgar and Miss Edwina are always quite correct in dealing with the paperwork?”
Great-aunt Iphigenia put her knife and fork down. “Why Hattie, what are you saying? Edgar and Edwina are extremely efficient, the very best of assistants. I trust them completely. They have been with me for years. Is there –” Great-aunt Iphigenia paused. “Is there some reason you are concerned about the accounts?”
“No,” Hattie said hastily. “No, not at all. I just – wondered. It all seems so interesting. Arithmetic, you know.” She could feel herself babbling. “I mean, I was interested because of Great-uncle Sisyphus’ lessons in arithmetic, and then Amal talked to me about mathematics and how absorbing she finds it, and I felt I would like to learn about keeping accounts.”
Great-uncle Sisyphus stared at her in mild surprise. “Dear me, Hattie, I had no idea you enjoyed our arithmetic lessons so much. Well, if you are interested, I am sure Edgar and Edwina, on their return, would be pleased to explain their accounting system to you. Would they not, Iphigenia?”
Great-aunt Iphigenia smiled. “I am sure they would! They will be pleased you are showing such an interest, Hattie. They are great believers in the importance of arithmetic, I know.”
“And it will be excellent for your education, Hattie!” said Great-uncle Sisyphus cheerfully. “Ah, the dumb waiter is rattling! Excellent! Sekhmet is s
ending our pudding up.”
It was, at least, some progress, Hattie concluded. It was of no use trying to tell Great-aunt Iphigenia that the Ravens were cheating her. No, she would have to prove it. She would have some time before the Ravens returned. And if they agreed, as they surely would have to, to explain the accounting system to her, then perhaps she would be able to find the proof she needed. She wondered how the Ravens would react to the scheme to broaden her education with accounting. She did not think they would be pleased.
But Hattie found she had no time, as she had planned, to investigate the records in the study more thoroughly before the Ravens returned. They were back by the middle of the next day, having successfully arranged an unwrapping party with Lady Strathcair. It would take place very soon, they said.
As soon as they had announced this news, they moved swiftly towards the study. “My attache case,” Edgar Raven murmured. “Is it here? I have been quite anxious about it.”
“Oh, you don’t need to be concerned about that,” Great-aunt Iphigenia reassured him. “Hattie took care of it for you. She never let it out of her sight for a moment. She put it safely in the study herself.”
The Ravens swung around and glared at Hattie. There was a long pause before Edgar said tightly, “Then thank you, Hattie.” They went into the study and shut the door.
As Hattie had expected, the Ravens reacted to Great-uncle Sisyphus’ suggestion that they should teach Hattie accounting, when it was proposed to them at teatime, with a considerable lack of enthusiasm.
“You wish to study accounting?” Edgar Raven queried with raised eyebrows.
“Yes. If you please,” Hattie said.
“This seems a very sudden interest.” Edwina Raven frowned.
“Does it? But it must be so interesting. I mean, seeing what comes in and what goes out and where it goes,” said Hattie.
The Mummy Smugglers of Crumblin Castle Page 21
