Bak found Amonhotep in Djehuty's private reception room. The young officer sat on a stool at the foot of the governor's empty chair, sorting scrolls and placing them in baskets marked according to content. They would ultimately go to Simut, who would have the documents filed away in the records storage room.
He looked around, smiled his approval. Every chest, table, and stool stood in its proper place. The woven mats covering the floor were no longer strewn with crumbs or clothing or any other objects. The pillows on the armchair had been fluffed up and the leopard skin draped over its back. White lilies floated in a large, low bowl of water, their strong, sweet scent freshening the air.
The aide gave him a wry smile. "If ever you need a servant, would you take me into your household?"
Bak grinned. "Should I become a man of wealth-an unlikely occurrence, I warn you-I'd compete for your services with spear or bow or fists, if, need be."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"Few men are as devoted to their masters as you are." Amonhotep gave an odd little snort. Bak suspected cynicism, bitterness, a helplessness to alter the situation, but as always the aide would commit himself no further.
"The governor wishes to see me, I understand." Amonhotep laid down the scroll he had been reading and, rose to his feet. Bak had heard the expression "he girded his loins," but had never been sure of its meaning. Now he was. The aide visibly braced himself, as if about to face a foe on the field of battle.
Taking the act as forewarning, Bak followed him out of the room with leaden feet. What new manner of mischief could Djehuty have thought up?
A short corridor took them to a spacious bedchamber, where the governor lay in a mass of rumpled sheets on a fine cedar bed decorated with inlaid ivory images of the ramheaded god Khqum. His head and shoulders were propped up on several folded sleeping pallets and pillows. Beer jars, a basket of bread, and a bowl half full of coagulating stew sat on a nearby table. The room smelled strongly of sweat and the thick-bodied brindle dog curled up on a pillow atop a reed chest.
Bak, thinking of all those people standing in the audience hall, awaiting this man, had trouble concealing his disgust. The governor pulled himself higher on the pallets and his lip curled into a sneer. "So nice of you, Lieutenant, to respond at last to my summons."
Bak feigned indifference to the taunt. "I came as soon as I received your message, sir."
"I've been told you've moved out of your quarters in Abu."
Amonhotep gave him a surprised look. As close as he was to the governor and as important to the smooth functioning of the province, Djehuty apparently failed to keep him as informed as he should.
"That's right." If the swine wants an explanation, Bak thought, let him ask for it.
Djehuty stared at him, waiting. When Bak failed to oblige, he raised his chin high. His smile, meant to display triumph, betrayed defiance instead. "I, too, have decided to leave Abu. I plan today to sail north, to travel to my estate in Nubt, where I'll have no further need to live in fear."
Bak silently cursed the man-and himself. He should have guessed the urge to flee would sooner or later be irresistible. "Do you plan to take your staff with you? Your steward, chief scribe, and all those men closest to you?"
"Of course." Djehuty flashed him a contemptuous look, a man of noble birth looking with scorn upon a peasant. "I'll need servants, too, and guards. That accursed Ineni has let the household staff dwindle to only seven men and women. Not enough. Not nearly enough."
"You'll be no safer there than here." Bak kept his voice hard, matter-of-fact. "The man we seek knows every square cubit within this compound. He has to be a-member of your household. If you take even a portion of them, you've as great a chance of taking the slayer as you have of leaving him behind."
"I trust the men closest to me, and I need them." Djehuty's chin jutted. "You're just trying to frighten me, to justify your presence in my home."
"If you trust them so much, why won't you let anyone but your daughter and Lieutenant Amonhotep enter your rooms?"
"Someone-a townsman who's lost his wits maybe, or a wandering desert tribesman-has found a way to get inside our walls, to trespass on my property. He's the slayer, the man you should be looking for."
Bak's head spun. Djehuty's thought processes defied comprehension. "If you go to Nubt, I'll have to go with you." "No!" Djehuty's voice rose. "I'll not have you there!" The dog raised its head, disturbed by its master's strident voice, but made no move to come to his aid. Reassured that it would not attack, Bak stepped forward to tower over the reclining man. "Are you ordering me back to Buhen, sir?" "Go away! Get out of my sight!"
Amonhotep moved up beside Bak. "What of the vizier, sir? How will you explain to him your lack of faith in the man he suggested you summon?"
Djehuty gave his aide a sullen look. "Lieutenant Bak is like a fly, buzzing around, asking endless questions, making vile insinuations. No man would tolerate such behavior, least of all the vizier."
"If you wish me to go, I will," Bak said. "But first you must prepare a document explaining to one and all that I've tried to convince you the slayer will strike again four days from now, and you're the most likely target. You must make clear that you've refused to listen and I should in no way be blamed should you die."
"I can write it up now, sir," Amonhotep said, "and have witnesses acknowledge it before midday."
Djehuty stared at first one officer and then the other. Defiance melted away and the shock of realization took its place. His trusted aide had allied himself with Bak. More important, he had no alternative but to place himself in Bak's hands. Suddenly he pulled a sheet up to his chin and huddled down in the bed, a man shrunk within himself.
"You'll stay in Abu?" Bak demanded. Djehuty nodded.
Bak stared down at an individual who looked utterly defeated. If he wanted the truth, this was the time to get it. "You hold a secret within your heart, one you've thus far failed to divulge. If you wish me to lay hands on the slayer before he lays hands on you, you must tell me."
"No." Djehuty shook his head in an exaggerated fashion. He squirmed beneath the sheet. "I have no secret." "Governor Djehuty. You must speak up."
"I have no secret!" he cried.
"What have you done that you'd rather die than admit?" "Nothing!" Djehuty gripped the sheet so tight his knuckles lost their color. "I've never committed an unspeakable deed! Never!"
Unspeakable deed, Bak thought. The words were an admission, but of what? "Need I remind you that five people have been slain?"
Djehuty closed his eyes and clamped his mouth tight, armoring himself in an impenetrable silence. Amonhotep shook his head, signaling how hopeless it was to. pelt him with further questions.
Bak glared at Djehuty, contempt filling his heart, leaving no room for pity. He thought again of all those men and women waiting in the audience hall, most of them poor, people who toiled day after day to eke out a meager living. All who believed in right and order. All who expected to stand before their provincial governor, seeking and getting justice.
"Get out of bed and clothe yourself," he commanded. "Petitioners await you in the audience hall."
Amonhotep glanced his way. Surprise that anyone should speak so abruptly to the governor gave way to a tenuous smile. "The lieutenant's right, sir. You mustn't disappoint all those who depend upon you, need you."
"They didn't need me yesterday." Djehuty stopped wiggling, pouted. "They hated me, whispered — about me behind my back."