‘When did this happen?’
‘Yesterday.’
‘Do you know why?’
Merymose sighed. ‘There has been another killing. They begin to think that it is the work of a demon. But how? There is no violence. Not a mark on the body.’
‘Who was she?’
‘The youngest daughter of Reni, the Chief Scribe.’
‘How old was she?’
‘She would have been fourteen at the time of the Opet festival.’
Huy looked grim. ‘And how was she found?’
‘The middle sister found her by the pool in their garden. The family also live in the palace compound. She was naked, laid out with as much care as if Anubis himself had done it.’
‘Did you see her yourself?’
‘Yes. Reni ordered that the body shouldn’t be touched and sent a servant directly to me. I should have reported it first, but I thought I could always plead urgency if I was disciplined again, and I couldn’t take the risk of being denied access.’
‘Did you talk to Reni?’
‘Yes. He’s an intelligent man, but his heart was darkened by his daughter’s death, and there was nothing he could tell me. His house is large, and his children are old enough to be free, though all still live under his roof. He and his Chief Wife dined alone at sunset, then he went to his office to work. He didn’t see any of the children that evening, except the oldest girl, who is eighteen and unmarried, and acts as his secretary. The middle sister discovered the body when she came home at about the sixth hour of night.’
‘How many children are there?’
‘Two surviving daughters, and two sons.’
‘When did he summon you?’
‘Soon after. I went immediately, as I said.’ Merymose looked troubled. ‘I reported the killing as soon as I left them, leaving a man there and asking them to touch nothing; that was about the ninth hour. Then I waited for orders. At about the second hour of day I was told that Kenamun would be leading the investigation. Of both killings.’
‘With the same time limit they gave you?’
The Medjay smiled wearily. ‘That threat has now been lifted. Even they can see that there must be a connection between the deaths.’
Huy did not reply. He knew Reni well, as he was the only scribe who had held high office both under Akhenaten and the new regime. It was certain that he had bought his freedom by betraying former colleagues. He had been farsighted enough to recant before Akhenaten’s death, making a discreet escape from the City of the Horizon by barge at night with his family. Once he had arrived at the Southern Capital, he had proclaimed his loyalty to the old gods loudly and publicly, disowning the Aten and throwing himself on the mercy of the priests of Amun, who even then were growing bold as the revolutionary pharaoh lost his grip both on reality and his empire.
‘I read your heart,’ said Merymose. ‘Do you read mine?’
‘The connection is too slender.’ But Huy’s thoughts raced. The daughters of two high officials, both of whom had survived the change of regime – both of whom, depending on your point of view, could be seen to have betrayed Akhenaten. ‘In any case,’ he continued, ‘I do not see how I can help you. You said yourself that you are taking a risk by meeting me.’
Merymose paused before replying, and when he did so he was awkward. ‘I do not know why I even trust you, but I have no men trained to use their hearts in the way you are able to as a gift of Ptah. You seem to know your craft instinctively.’
‘Taheb must have been very warm in her praise.’
‘I have listened to you twice now myself.’ Merymose stood up and made for the door. ‘Look out for me first. I will go if no one is there.’
‘You cannot make a habit of coming here.’
‘I will ask Kenamun if we can engage you – professionally. He is more broad minded than the priest-administrator; and he wants to succeed in this. How much better to engage someone to help who cannot claim official credit for himself when the matter is solved.’
‘You give me little encouragement.’
‘You will be paid, Huy. In any case, you were not born just to make paper.’
‘I don’t know what I was born to do. I don’t know that it matters.’
‘Perhaps your true profession has found you. It is something that happens.’
Huy paused before replying. ‘I have a question for you.’
‘Yes?’
‘What did you do during the Great Criminal’s reign?’ If he was going to work with Merymose, they both had to reach a position of trust.
Merymose’s face hardened, and it was a long time before he answered.
‘I was in the garrison at Byblos. When Aziru sent his Khabiris against us, finally, we had been under siege for three years. In that time the Great Criminal sent us not even one reply to our requests for help. We were starving and reduced by disease. Typhus. Have you ever seen the effect of that? It was a far cry from the golden court of the City of the Horizon.’ For a moment he paused, the bitter lines around his mouth deepening. Then he continued.
‘When the Khabiri attacked we were powerless against them. They are desert raiders. They slaughtered the men and the children, and took away the women. As I was an officer, they devised a special treat for me: they raped my wife and my ten-year-old daughter in front of me, three of them to each, sticking their penises into each of the gateways. Then they used their spears on them. They threw me from the battlements into the sea, but the rocks were merciless and did not kill me, though I have never longed for death so much as I did then. But a man must wait until Osiris calls him.’ Merymose fell silent again.
‘My Ka decided that I must live. I swam down the coast, carried by the current. When I got ashore I stole a small fishing boat and sailed it to the Delta. I joined the Medjays in the south, and served at Napata, before they posted me here.’
Huy cast around for something to say, and found nothing. When he did, it was awkward and inappropriate: ‘You must hate us.’
‘I hate no one. You cannot hate when you have died inside.’
After Merymose had gone, Huy closed up the house and walked down to the City of Dreams.
‘Do you never sleep?’ he said to Nubenehem, who was rooted to her couch in her half-reclining posture. There was a jar of thick yellow palm wine on the table beside her.
‘Never when there is a living to be made,’ she grinned. ‘What do you want?’
‘You mentioned a girl you said was my type.’
‘Little Nefi? You’re out of luck. She hasn’t been back.’
‘Did you give her work?’
‘She was keen, but had no experience. To be frank I was going to give her to you to break in.’ Nubenehem offered Huy the jar but he waved it away.
‘Tell me what she looked like.’
‘I did. Young. Innocent. Puppy fat on her cheeks. Plump young body. Very willing to show it off, she was. I wouldn’t have minded turning her over myself.’
‘Did you?’
Nubenehem’s look became less friendly. ‘No. These days I stick to less exhausting pleasures.’ She indicated the wine jar.
‘Why?’
‘No reason.’
‘Like to watch some of that, would you, women together?’ Huy paused. ‘I am going to describe a girl to you. As exactly as I can. You tell me if that’s the girl I missed.’
Summoning up as many details as he could remember, and trying to breathe life into her, Huy described Iritnefert.
‘That’s her,’ said Nubenehem. ‘So you found her after all. What was she doing? Working the docks?’
He was about to leave when the bead curtain was drawn aside and Kafy stood there. She looked at him resentfully. ‘Well, well. Don’t I know you from somewhere?’