Free The Hippopotamus Pool by Elizabeth Peters Page A

agents did not actually break the law, since the laws about selling antiquities were too vague to restrict their activities unduly. They operated like any other merchants, in more or less amiable competition. Riccetti was different. It was rumored that he had been a member of the Red Hand or another such secret terrorist society, and certainly his methods supported that assumption."
    "Good Gad," said Ramses. "What precisely did he do?"
    "Never mind," Emerson said curtly.
    "Oh," said Ramses.
    Emerson smiled at Nefret, whose wide eyes were fixed on his face. "Don't be concerned about Riccetti, my dear, he only stopped by to— er—to say hello. He retired years ago, with enough money to keep him in comfort all his life. The trade pays well, especially in the Theban area. I told you about the village of Gurneh, which is built in the midst of an ancient cemetery. The residents of that pleasant little community are skilled tomb robbers and manufacturers of forgeries, some of them good enough to fool even the experts. Budge of the British Museum—"
    "I beg your pardon, Father," said Ramses, "but Nefret knows all this. I told her."
    In this case I did not blame Ramses for interrupting. When Emerson gets on the subject of Mr. Budge of the British Museum he is inclined to use bad language and lose track of what he is saying.
    Emerson glowered at his son. "Oh, indeed? Well, it won't hurt either of you to hear it again. If you will spare me your criticism, Ramses, I will proceed to matters with which even you are not familiar—to wit, the career of Giovanni Riccetti."
    Ramses subsided, twitching with impatience, while Emerson took his time about filling and lighting his pipe. I knew why he was rambling on at such length; he did not want to discuss Riccetti's reasons for coming to see us.
    "It is said," Emerson continued, "that the loot from the cache of royal mummies at Deir el Bahri was marketed by Riccetti. Some of the funerary papyri and ushebtis turned up in European collections, leading eventually to the arrest of the thieves and the discovery of the tomb by the authorities, but I suspect that the most valuable objects were sold to wealthy collectors who prefer not to display their prizes. The collecting mania ..." He went droning on, recapitulating a story we all knew by heart, until he broke off with a cheerful, "Ah, but we have arrived; there is the hotel."
    "One further question, Father, if I may," said Ramses.
    Emerson, who had thought he was safe, braced himself. "Yes, my son?"
    "Are all antiquities dealers so very fat? You remember Abd el-Atti."
    Relieved, Emerson burst out laughing. "Only those who practice Turkish habits, Ramses. It might be considered an occupational hazard, I suppose, for men with too much wealth and no self-control."
    "Turkish habits, Father? Do you mean that Signor Riccetti is a lover of—"
    "Food," said Emerson loudly, giving me an agonized look. "Food, drink, sweetmeats, wine, spirituous liquors of all kinds ..."
    "Overindulgence and insufficient exercise," I said, responding to his unspoken plea. "Mens sana in corpore sano, Ramses, as I have often said."
    "Yes, Mother. But—"
    "Time for luncheon," Emerson declared, pulling out his watch. "Suppose we go straight in, my dears? I am famished. Here, Peabody, let me help you down. Nefret, my dear—"
    He bustled us into the dining room. Ramses appeared to have taken the hint, for I did not suppose he had forgotten the subject. I promised myself to have a little talk with him, on the propriety of discussing certain topics in the presence of his sister. However, I had an uncomfortable feeling that Nefret probably knew a great deal more about such topics than did Ramses. Perhaps I had better have a little talk with Nefret too.
                                            
    After luncheon Emerson excused himself. "A few errands, my dears. I won't be long. Er—Peabody, why don't you make arrangements for one of those