by Gary Gygax
"Because I am an ur-kheri-heb?"
Matiseth shrugged. "What else? You are a wizard as well as a priest. I hoped your grasp of a greater diversity of heka than I have would serve to rescue the governor."
The magister remained expressionless, but his mind was racing as he tucked away each part of the story Matiseth had related. There would be time for analysis and assessment later. "Two more questions before we finish, Hem-neter-tepi. First, do you know the persons who were meeting with the governor? Second, and twofold in nature, can you tell me why they were met? And why you were not there also?"
"Know? Well, I should certainly say I do! They are the elite of On, you understand. There were a handful of men there I did not recognize, but—"
"When the prefect's agents come, Chemres, please tell them the names of each man you saw and recognized, as well as describing those for whom you have no such identifying appellation. I'll read a copy of that. Time flies, and I need the rest of your answer. Why were they gathered? Why were you not called to the meeting?" Inhetep urged by repeating his queries.
Again the high priest shrugged. "Although I was consulted often—Ram-f-amsu considered me a friend and spiritual guide, too—I was not privy to each and every matter pertaining to governance of the sepat, after all. It seems I do recall His Excellent Highness mentioning something about increasing trade through improved finance and better facilities for warehousing, distribution, and sale. I speculate, for I do not know the reason for the meeting. However, some such must have been the subject, for I believe that was the reason for my exclusion. Bluntly put, as great as is my temple's wealth and community involvement, we are more concerned with ... ah . . . agrarian matters and social work than with banking and mercantilism."
Fifteen minutes had passed since the subaltern had cleared the council room, and soon the police would arrive. Inhetep wanted to have as much time as possible to question the others before the city's law officers arrived to complicate matters. "Thank you, Matiseth. I appreciate your helpfulness in the face of our long-standing enmity. If it were up to me, I would permit you to return to your own residence, hut it isn't my decision. Come with me, and I'll ask the major domo to give you a private chamber to relax in-— the gods know you need a little respite after what you've been through. When the metropolitan prefect's agents arrive, I'll request the chamberlain have them speak with you first."
"Ummm . .." Matiseth responded with a suspicious air. "Just why should I be questioned first?"
"This is bound to be an all-night affair, Chem-res. If the investigators finish with you, they'll allow yon to return to your temple, and you'll not be kept here until tomorrow morning. I am trying to repay your cooperation. This is the best means I can devise, as it were, but if you wish to remain. ,.."
"No. I appreciate your thinking Inhetep. Come, Let us find the able Hukefi—I helped place Mm in Ms office. He will be ready to assist as requested."
As the high priest had said, Major Domo Hukefi was doubly anxious to serve, owing Matiseth Chemres his position and fearing Inhetep. He bustled off with the chief cleric of Set so as to furnish Matiseth with the comforts of his own apartment. Inhetep was certain that the paunchy little man would intercept the police just as efficiently, and that they would get the high priest's account first. This "consideration" for
Chemres was actually something altogether different, for it gave Setne the time he desired to question the rest of the witnesses.
The young subaltern was named Bekin-Tettu. The magister sought him out and explained that he would take sole charge of the detainees, and that this responsibility was now his alone should anything untoward occur. "You have performed very well, Subaltern. I shall keep the name Bekin-Tettu in mind and see that it is mentioned in my report as well."
"Thank you .. . Magister Inhetep. I ... I am uncertain as to how to properly address you now, hearing your most exhalted titles given to the maj—"
"Please!" Inhetep interjected with feeling. "You are to forget all that. The simple 'Magister' will suffice, thank you. I stand not on titles and am an utchat-neb now only honorarily, albeit under these circumstances I shall return to active service for a time, as is my prerogative. The murder of a royal governor is something which demands Pharaoh's attention, after all.
"When you have ushered your men out of the salon in which the suspects are held, I would appreciate it if you would find out if any of them noted unusual behavior of any sort while they guarded the suspects. When I am finished speaking with the guests, I'll find you and get that information from you. Agreed?"
"Yes, sir! I will be nearby, Magister," the subaltern said with a proud ring.
The room in which the group of men was being detained was large and had a dining table, chairs, and several couches. All fourteen of the murdered governor's guests were awaiting there, perforce. When Inhetep entered, they all tried to speak at once, demanding to know why they were being held, what was going on, and so forth. The tall priest-wizard raised his hands and motioned them to silence. "Gentlemen, if you please." His words were a command. "For those who do not know me, I am Magister Setne Inhetep. For the time, I am acting as an officer of Pharaoh's Utchatu, so consider this most official police business.
"You are each a witness to murder. There can be no question that His Excellent Highness Governor Ram-f-amsu was slain by some form of foul play." Someone started to protest, but Inhetep silenced that attempt. "Wait, wait. Each of you will have ample opportunity to speak. You are fortunate in a way. I was there to witness the final few seconds of the tragedy. None of you are now accused, but as each was there, you are material witnesses, if not suspects. You will be required to give full and complete statements. Formal questioning will occur soon, and what you have to say will be recorded by the agents of the metropolitan prefect of On. Meanwhile, I will have a few questions of my own.
"Some of you I know, and some are unfamiliar to me. No matter. I require that each of you state your name and the purpose of your being here tonight. To make this simple, let us begin at my left and work on round the room." Inhetep took out a small stylus, which was enchanted so as to have an inexhaustible supply of ink—an indispensable tool for the magister—then found his notebook. It too was magickal, and each word he wrote upon it shrunk and aligned itself so that a small page could hold what would literally fill a normal volume. Better still, unless one knew how to call up the material scribed there, his notes were no more than indecipherable little marks barely visible with a magnifying glass.
"Begin."
"Magister," said the first. "I am Nerhat-ab, a banker here in the city. The governor requested my presence in order to facilitate the changing of drafts and letters of credit. I was also called upon to assist in financing."
The magister nodded to the next man, a Levantine by his costume. "1 am Barogesh, a Phonecian investor with business interests in On, Antioch, Trebizond, and Serai. Prince Ram-f-amsu enlisted my aid as he did that of Master Nerhat-ab."
"Lord Pyronos of Cyprus," the third man said brusquely. At Inhetep's continued stare, the bearded fellow added, "I have manors and ships. Your governor sought my connections."
Four men arose as if in sequence. "Nenef-Kheru, merchant of On and Memphis," the fat one who stood up first called with a tentative smile towards the wizard-priest. "We met—"
"Yes," Inhetep said curtly. "Your associates?"
"Emptah-hiash. Thunun-maat. Hatsotef.'" Each bowed as the obese /Egyptian spoke his name, "Honest traders and good citizens as am I."
Although the four were probably unaware of it, the magister knew that they had frequently combined to comer markets in commodities, fix prices, and eliminate competition. Those illegal manipulations weren't particularly germane to the murder, but might prove useful as the investigation progressed. "Your collective reputation and activities have come to Pharaoh's attention," Inhetep noted with a judicial tone. "Your complete cooperation here might prove beneficial in that regard. Next!"
"Shaik Yasik
ibn Okhdar," rattled the hatchet-faced Yaxban with a black stare which met Jn~ hetep's own green eyes without flinching. "My people control caravan routes and also trade much."
"No doubt in goods which are not theirs," the wizard-priest said levelly. "What business called you to this place?"
"My own!" the nomad chief snarled back. Then, considering his position, he added, "I am chief of the Al-Heshaz, and master of the city of /Elana."
"Most commendable. We are honored by your presence here, lord." Inhetep was hiding surprise, for the miserable town the Yarban named was the only port at the eastern finger of the Mare Rubine, the Red Sea. Yasik ibn Okhdar's admission announced a shift in strength, for the Al-Nabatt had held it the last he had heard. "And you, sir?"
"Vert. I am an explorer and a cartographer of some note. As I travel much and know much of trade routes and roads, I was asked to furnish my knowledge to Governor Ram-f-amsu. I was promised payment. His death does not obviate the agreement!"
"If there is such a contract, it will be honored in due course." He looked from the /Eropan to the dusky man next in line, whose stained hands showed he worked with chemicals.
"I am Jobo Lasuti, imprimus of the Nubian Alchemists and also one trained in certain arts of thaumaturgy. You are well aware of that, ur-kheri-heb-tepi, I know."
Inhetep inclined his head slightly. "Imprimus Lasuti, I find honor in greeting you again. What was your reason for being here?"
The Nubian smiled. "You are well aware of our desire to expand our markets for the chemicals and other materia we produce, Magister. Isolated as our main bases are, this has been proven difficult in the past."
"Your route would be by sea to /Elana, of course."
"That was proposed," the Nubian alchemist said in his richly accented basso voice.
"Shamish authorities might have objection, but perhaps that is moot now under the circumstances," Inhetep murmured. He looked at the eleventh of the company, a nondescript /Egyptian whom he didn't recognize. "You?"
"Aufseru, Magister Inhetep. I am merely an aide to the governor," the man said with a deprecating wave of his hand. "In fact, I am no longer even that now, I suppose. Under the circumstances, tomorrow I shall have to seek new employment."
"Quite possibly. How long have you been on the staff of the governor?"
"But a few days. That's why I was included in this meeting—Prince Ram-f-amsu desired my indoctrination in his style of conducting business."
Magister Inhetep started to point at the trio who were the last of the fourteen, but turned back to Aufseru again, saying, "You have a northern accent. Rosetta, perhaps?"
"Quite the opposite direction, Magister. Tanis was my home."
"That shows how rustic a fellow I am," Inhetep replied with a smile. "I've never been able to separate east from west when it comes to articulation. Have you been here long?"
Before the man could respond to that query, the arrival of a half-dozen police from the Metropolitan Prefecture interrupted them. "You are Utchat-neb Inhetep?" The speaker was an ordinary-looking fellow of average height and build and middle years, who might pass through a room full of people without being remembered. The magister nodded affirmation, and the police official smiled. "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir. I am the deputy prefect in charge of this matter—Chief Inspector Tuhorus. I trust that we will work together correctly."
Blandness and a smile couldn't disguise the detective's true feelings and the meaning of his words. Inhetep understood, for it was not unique in matters where jurisdictions overlapped. "Just so," he agreed without yielding anything in any way. "Let us confer soon—perhaps after you have finished your initial work taking the statements of those present?"
"Possibly," Tuhorus replied noncommittally. "If you will pardon me now, I believe I should get to that. It seems I wasted some time with Hem-neter-tepi Matiseth.. . ."
"Wasted? On the contrary, Inspector, I believe that the high priest is very much the key to this whole affair. As to questioning these gentlemen, I suggest that you might begin with the eleven I have had statements from already. There are a number of rooms available. As soon as I have had a chance to get a little information from these last three," the magister said firmly, "I shall send them to wherever you might desire."
"Is that an official demand from the Pharaoh's Utchatu?"
Inhetep shook his head. "Let us say, rather, that it is a request from a fellow detective."
"In that case, Magister, you may have five minutes," Inspector Tuhorus said. Then he ushered the others from the room, leaving the tail priest-wizard alone with the three Easterners.
"You are accorded little respect," rasped the mustachioed member of the trio after the inspector's exit. "In my land, an agent of the king is as the king himself."
"Just what kingdom is that?" queried Inhetep.
"Parthia," the man responded flatly. "The easternmost upholder of your allies of Grecian culture."
Magister Inhetep was unimpressed. "Phil-hellenism, alliances, and international political concerns are not my affair, sir. What are three Parthians doing here? A meeting with the governor of On is hardly business of the state."
"But there you are mistaken," countered the Parthian in his rasping voice. "Prince Ram-f-amsu was far-ranging in his plans for trade, you see. My nation receives much overland commerce, and I was asked to consider /Egyptian concessions."
"Do you mean that the governor was proposing monopolies?"
"Yes, that is exactly so."
Without looking up, Inhetep made a note in his little book. "My time is nearly gone, sir, so I'll end this now. Please give me your name and the names of your two companions."
"Sacaxes. These are my lieutenants, Tengri Ataman, and Vardin."
"Thank you, General Sacaxes," the priest-wizard murmured as he arose. The expressions on the Parthians' faces were sufficient to confirm Inhetep's suspicion regarding their leader, for the military title had been a pure guess based only on what Inhetep had observed of the trio.
THE CHIEF INSPECTOR VS. INHETEP
Just after midnight, Chief Inspector Tuhorus located the magister where he was waiting with Subaltern Bekin-Tettu. The two were conversing when the policeman entered. "I trust I am not interrupting," Tuhorus said.
"No, Inspector, both of us are here awaiting you."
"I won't need you tonight, Subaltern," the police official told Bekin-Tettu rather pointedly. "Go outside and find any one of the deputy inspectors assisting me. Tell him who you are and then what you know. Then return to your own quarters. Tomorrow morning, I'll personally hear your statement."
The soldier excused himself and left. Inhetep watched the official closely as Bekin-Tettu exited. "You seem unusually curt, Tunorus. What troubles you?"
"Troubles? The royal prince who governed
this sepat is slain in his own palace in my city, and you are surprised about my attitude?" The inspector scowled at Inhetep. "But I will ask the questions now, Magister—or should I say Ut-chat-neb ... or True Prince?"
"You have seen the appointment entry, then?"
"As I said, questions are to be from me—-unless the Pharaoh's agency is in charge of this business." Tuhorus' tone was as hard as his face.
Inhetep moved closer to the municipal prefect agent. "If you manage to solve this quickly and apprehend those responsible for Ram-f-amsu's murder, Chief Inspector Tuhorus, I cannot envision the government sending in its own men. However, if I see the slightest need, I will personally assume oversight of this case and send for a team of Utchatu," he said levelly, as he looked down with his green eyes at the policeman's craggy face. "Your attitude is becoming irritating, Tuhorus. Even the foreigners here have noticed it."
"I don't like you much, Inhetep. We common law enforcement personnel all resent interference from the Utchatu as well. Secret police and spies aren't popular in On—even those we are forced to use ourselves. What your reason for being here is—the politics of the kingdom and its governors—are no concern of t
he prefecture, I'm sure, but—"
"Hold on a moment, my dear Inspector," interjected the magister. "I am here quite by chance. Allow me to explain." Inhetep then took a few minutes to recount the salient features of his happening to be in the palace when Ram-f-amsu was killed, omitting only the name of the assassin, Yakeem, from his explanation. "Naturally, I have a duty to investigate the murder, but as far as the Utchatu are concerned, this can be a matter for On's Metropolitan Prefecture if it is done efficiently and correctly."
The policeman looked narrowly at Inhetep. "Will you put that in writing?"
Setne returned the scrutiny. Despite appearance and manner, the magister found himself rather liking Chief Inspector Tuhorus. In truth, his task was formidable, reward for success likely to be nil. One was expected to do one's duty after all.. . . Inclining his head slightly to the policeman, Inhetep replied easily, with friendliness in his tone, "Have one of your scribes do so, and I'll sign it. But it is most unusual. Tell me, Tuhorus, just what is it that makes all this necessary?"
"The dead governor, Ram-f-amsu."
"Hmmm . . ." Magister Inhetep murmured, thinking rapidly. "May I propose that we meet elsewhere—perhaps this afternoon—and speak about this further? I think we must compare our notes and discuss conclusions."
"Supper," the inspector said. "It will be well into the morning before I've finished up the preliminary work here, and I will have to have some sleep. Where are you staying?"
"Let's say the Reedfields, then. There is a reasonable table there, I believe," Inhetep responded. Tuhorus assented, and without any further discussion the two men parted. The priest-wizard walked away swiftly to find lodging at the proposed inn, a place not far distant from the On Palace. Inspector Tuhorus, of course, returned to the witnesses to continue his questioning.
At the Reedfields, Inhetep found a pleasant room, sent someone off to fetch his belongings from the Golden Nylle in Innu, and went to bed. Five hours later, he arose feeling completely refreshed. After bathing and eating a little something, the magister went out to do a bit of shopping. He had three hours before his evening appointment with the policeman. Inhetep spent the remaining time organizing his purchases and going over Ms notes.
