“I have much to do, gentlemen. May I wish you all success in your efforts.”
“Thank you, thank you,” said Pons absently, his eyes fixed over toward the strong-room door.
There was a light step as the Assistant Curator left and a tall, slim, fair girl with a slightly flushed face hurried in.
“Helen Pilkington, gentlemen. I am sorry to keep you waiting but things are rather at sixes and sevens. Mr. Biggs tells me you wish to see the staff records, Mr. Pons.”
“If it would not be too much trouble, Miss Pilkington.”
“By no means, Mr. Pons.”
The girl, with a bright smile, crossed to a mahogany filing cabinet in the corner and busied herself with cardboard folders. She came back with a bundle of them and placed them on the desk.
“Everyone is here, Mr. Pons, including myself and the Curator.”
Solar Pons smiled faintly, thanking her and seating himself in the Curator’s leather chair. I sat down near him and studied his face as he turned over the typewritten documents in the folders. His expression was absorbed and intent.
“You have found something, Pons?”
“It merely confirms my suppositions, Parker. Ah, here is Mr. Biggs again.”
He got up, turning the files over to me, while the girl stood uncertainly near the desk, first looking from me to my companion and then back to me again.
“I understand you would like to see in the strong-room, Mr. Pons.”
“If you please, Mr. Biggs. The matter is rather important.” “Of course, Mr. Pons.”
Biggs led the way over to the big steel door and started fitting keys into a curious circular lock, which had three keyholes in it. I stayed at the desk for a moment, skimming over the folders Pons had dismissed so cursorily. I went down the names rapidly. Morticott interested me most. I saw that he had been on the Museum staff for fifteen years.
The scholastic and managerial members seemed to have been with the museum a considerable time. Conversely, the uniformed staff included a number who had joined only a few weeks ago. Then I remembered that extra staff had been engaged in preparation for the Exhibition.
The strong-room door was open now and Pons had disappeared inside. I strolled across and joined Biggs and the girl at the entrance. We were interrupted at that moment by Inspector Jamison, who entered heavily, a worried frown on his lugubrious features. He had left us earlier on the staircase after a whispered consultation with Pons and now he produced a buff form from his pocket.
“This has just been handed to me at the museum entrance, Mr. Pons.”
My companion had re-appeared at the strong-room door and took it from him. I read it over his shoulder. The message, transmitted from Scotland Yard and delivered by special messenger was terse and to the point. The pith of it was contained in the final sentence.
CAIRO POLICE INFORM US BODY INSPECTOR ACHMED RECOVERED FROM NILE EARLIER TODAY.
-7-
“This is impossible, Mr. Pons!” Jamison exploded in the silence which followed.
Solar Pons shook his head.
“On the contrary, it is the only possible explanation of that bus ‘accident’. It appears that I have been slightly off the track but it does not alter the validity of my central hypotheses.”
“I do not understand you, Mr. Pons.”
“Think about it, Inspector. I commend that factor, the incidents surrounding Mr. Biggs, and the material removed from the Valley of the Kings to you, and you cannot fail to come to the obvious conclusion.”
Inspector Jamison scratched his head.
“It is far from clear to me, Mr. Pons, though it has been self-evident all along that these people are after the treasure Mr. Biggs brought back.”
“Ah, you have seen that, have you? Well, I wish you luck in your investigations.”
And Solar Pons turned on his heel somewhat ungraciously and stepped back into the strong-room. I followed him in, after one look at the Inspector’s crestfallen face. Pons looked thoughtfully at the two great crates set back beneath the shelves in the far corner. As Biggs had said, one of them was all splashed and stained as though with red paint.
“You have not yet dealt with these artefacts, Mr. Biggs?” The little Curator shook his head.
“There is so much to catalogue, Mr. Pons, and we have had so many worries.”
“Just so.”
Pons stared in silence for a few moments at the jumbled contents of the strong-room.
“If you will permit me?”
“By all means, Mr. Pons. But please be careful. These jars are so fragile.”
My companion picked up one of the red terracotta jars from its bed of straw and lifted it toward his face with fingers as delicate as the antennae of an insect. I noticed that the jar was intact, with its original clay stopper. Pons put it to his nose and sniffed, almost as though with appreciation. His eyes were alight with interest as he examined it carefully with his pocket magnifying glass. He put it down gently on the straw and lifted an unsealed one thoughtfully.
“These would have contained wine, you say, Mr. Biggs?” “Wine, Mr. Pons, unguents and other substances which the Ancient Egyptians used to store in this fashion.”
Pons nodded.
“The wine would, of course, have evaporated long ago?” Mr. Biggs had his omniscient look on his face again now. “Oh, indeed yes, Mr. Pons. Countless centuries. We have never found anything within the jars except the dried remains of sediment on the bottom.”
“I see.”
Pons put down the empty jar indolently and turned to me.
“I think we have seen enough for the moment, Parker. Have you a room which we could use as our own, pro tem, Mr. Biggs?”
“Of course, Mr. Pons. Nothing could be simpler. There is a small office leading off my own, which my secretary sometimes uses. It shall be put at your disposal and is only a few steps away. Would you care for some refreshment? I can have coffee and sandwiches sent up from the Museum Restaurant as the staff are staying on tonight in the emergency to cater for us all.”
“Excellent,” said Pons with a faint smile. “But a little later, if you please. We may have need of it before the evening is over, eh, Parker?”
“No doubt, Pons,” I said somewhat grimly. “I presume we intend to stay the night?”
My companion chuckled as we followed the little Curator back across his own office to a rosewood door in the far corner. “I trust it will not come to that, my dear fellow.”
He lowered his voice.
“Nevertheless, I have a distinct feeling that something may happen. We must keep a sharp eye on Mr. Biggs for he is the key to the whole matter, in more ways than one.”
He looked thoughtfully across at the open strong-room door, pulling gently with his right hand at the lobe of his right ear.
“You think an attempt will be made to steal this treasure tonight, Pons?”
“It is more than likely, Parker.”
I was astonished.
“But the place is full of police and everyone is on their guard!”
“Exactly, Parker. That is why I think this criminal will strike again. The situation is so unlikely that he hopes to catch the Museum authorities off balance. But I have drawn my own conclusions and we must keep alert at all times.”
“But what are we looking for, Pons? And what is this whole insane business about, come to that?”
Solar Pons smiled gently, surveying the small, comfortable office with oak-panelled walls into which Biggs now ushered us.