Death Shall Come

  Penny grinned suddenly, as I levered the lid off the sarcophagus and leaned it against the grandfather clock. And there, inside the coffin, was the shrivelled-up figure George had shown us earlier. The mummy was just as dead as before, but the whole of its chest had been smashed in. The edges of the hole were ragged, the bandages torn and tattered. The chest cavity showed traces of ancient packing materials, to hold something in place that wasn’t there any longer.

  ‘Looks like someone ripped the heart right out of her,’ said Penny, wrinkling her nose as she leaned in for a closer look.

  ‘Not the heart,’ I said. ‘That would have been removed before the embalming process began, along with all the other inner organs, so they could be stored in separate jars. Something was concealed inside this mummy a very long time ago. And now our elusive thief has it.’

  ‘Some kind of treasure?’ said Penny.

  ‘Historical treasure,’ I said. ‘Of extraordinary value. And the only person in this house with the background and knowledge to know where to find it was Professor Rose. But it would have taken enormous strength to do this much damage … I would have thought something like this was beyond him.’

  ‘No!’ said Penny, bouncing up and down excitedly. ‘I get it now! This is why the professor was abducted … Because he knew about the mummy. The killer took the professor away to interrogate him!’

  ‘OK,’ I said. ‘That makes sense.’

  ‘Then why are you pulling that face?’

  ‘Because the odds are Rose is dead now. The killer wouldn’t need him once he’d talked.’

  ‘But you already thought he was dead.’

  ‘I suspected it, but I hoped otherwise. As long as he was just missing, there was still a chance I could find him. And save him.’ I looked at the shrivelled-up thing leaning awkwardly in its new resting place. It was too small for such a large box, like a child dumped in an adult coffin. ‘There never was a mummy reanimated by an ancient curse. It was all just misdirection. Sorry to disappoint you, Penny.’

  She shrugged briskly. ‘I never liked the look of it. Nothing like a proper movie mummy. So what do we do now?’

  I lifted the coffin lid off the grandfather clock and placed it back on the sarcophagus, shutting the mummy in again.

  ‘We go back to the drawing room,’ I said. ‘Because if the mummy never walked and Professor Rose is dead …’

  ‘Then one of the people in the drawing room has to be the killer,’ said Penny.

  ‘Looks like it,’ I said. ‘Which means every person in that room but one is in mortal danger.’

  We ran all the way back. Penny had to struggle to keep up, wheezing like a steam engine with a leak in its boiler, but she hung on in there. I ran straight up to the closed drawing-room door and beat on it with my fist, while Penny staggered to a halt, leaned on the wall, and made really unpleasant noises. Glaring at me because I wasn’t even out of breath. I beat on the door again.

  ‘Open up! This is Ishmael, and Penny. I finally know what’s going on!’

  The door opened and I forced my way in, with Penny right behind me. Stuart made a point of closing the door and wedging the chair back in place, before going over to stand with Chloe. I started to explain, and then stopped as I looked at Stuart and Chloe, Bernard and Susan. They all looked seriously upset.

  ‘What is it?’ said Penny. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Where’s Marjorie?’ I said.

  ‘She went missing on the way back,’ Stuart said harshly. ‘Disappeared when I wasn’t looking, just like Professor Rose. None of us noticed anything.’

  Penny looked at me. ‘How …?’

  ‘Never mind the how,’ I said. ‘Stick to the why. Why would the killer want Marjorie? What could she know that the killer needs to know?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ said Chloe.

  ‘Later,’ I said. ‘We have to find Marjorie while there’s a chance she might still be alive. The rest of you, stay here. And don’t open the door again till we come back. If you get caught short again, use a flower vase.’

  ‘How long are you planning to be gone?’ said Chloe.

  ‘As long as it takes,’ I said.

  SEVEN

  A Matter of Death and Life

  Outside the drawing room, surrounded by shadows and silence, I took a good look down the long corridor, while Penny waited patiently. There was nothing to see: just shelves of artefacts, the odd piece of expensive if not particularly attractive furniture, and the occasional painting of someone who almost certainly wasn’t an ancestor of anyone currently living in Cardavan House. Nowhere our elusive killer could be hiding, no locked doors or intriguing side passages, and nothing even a little bit mysterious. And yet … I didn’t trust any of it. Penny shifted from one foot to the other.

  ‘I know,’ I said, not looking round. ‘It’s just … I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Like the quiet before the storm, or the false sense of security you get in an open clearing … just before the big cat jumps out at you from ambush.’

  ‘What are you so nervous about?’ said Penny. ‘At best it’s a mummy, at worst it’s a serial killer. We can handle either of those without even breaking into a sweat.’

  ‘Normally I’d agree with you,’ I said. ‘Normally I’d be striding down this corridor shouting “Come on, give me your best shot!”, but something feels wrong. Like we’re facing something seriously out of the ordinary, even for us.’

  ‘Concentrate on the matter in hand,’ Penny said wisely. ‘Starting with why would anyone want to abduct Marjorie. She doesn’t know anything important about the collection, like Professor Rose, so what would the killer want with her?’

  ‘This can’t be about the collection,’ I said. ‘Marjorie didn’t give a damn about any of it. But she might know George’s security codes, or where he hid his off-the-books business records. Maybe there is some connection between the killings and George’s security work, after all …’

  ‘I was so sure someone in the drawing room was the killer,’ said Penny. ‘But if Marjorie has been carried off by force, then there must be someone else in the house.’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ I said. ‘We have no proof Marjorie was abducted. She could have just sneaked away on her own, for reasons of her own.’

  ‘Hold everything! Go previous and slam on the brakes,’ said Penny. ‘Are you suggesting Marjorie might be the killer? You saw the state of her! If she was any more drunk she’d be sweating rubbing alcohol!’

  ‘She could have been faking it,’ I said patiently, ‘To give her an excuse to leave the drawing room. She couldn’t have known everyone else would insist on going to the bathroom with her.’

  ‘But what reason could Marjorie possibly have for killing so many people?’ said Penny. ‘George, Nicholas, Caroline, Professor Rose …?’

  ‘With George dead, Marjorie inherits everything,’ I said. ‘As for the others, maybe it’s just more misdirection. Kill four people, so one won’t stand out … No, that doesn’t work. The extreme manner of George’s death is enough to make him stand out anyway. I think it’s all about whatever was hidden inside the mummy. Once we find out what that is, then we’ll know why so many people had to die because of it.’

  ‘But in the meantime Marjorie is still missing,’ said Penny. ‘And possibly in danger of her life. What are we going to do, Ishmael?’

  ‘Find her,’ I said. ‘And then either rescue her or pin her to the wall and ask her a whole bunch of pertinent questions.’

  ‘What if there’s more to it than that?’ said Penny.

  I looked down the corridor, and the darkness and the hush looked back at me.

  ‘Wouldn’t surprise me in the least.’

  We both looked round quickly as the drawing room door opened, and Stuart came out. He closed the door firmly behind him, looked suspiciously down the corridor and then turned to us. His face was set in harsh, unforgiving lines, and his eyes were angry. It took me a moment to realize he was angry at himself, f
or letting another of the people in his care disappear without trace. He settled into his usual parade rest stance and started talking in a low, steady voice. There was something of the confessional in his manner, as though he felt the need to justify himself.

  ‘I never heard a thing. Marjorie just vanished while my back was turned. She was so drunk she had trouble keeping up, and I was so busy leading from the front I never thought to look back. I didn’t hear her leave, and I definitely didn’t hear her being abducted. I didn’t hear any strange footsteps, before or afterwards. Nothing to suggest there was anyone else in the corridor.’

  I believed him. Old soldiers have good instincts for what’s going on around them in the field. It’s what keeps them alive.

  ‘Don’t beat yourself up,’ I said. ‘No one else heard anything either. Whoever’s doing this is good. Really good.’

  ‘But I was in charge,’ said Stuart. ‘They were my responsibility.’

  ‘We were wondering if Marjorie might have gone off on her own,’ Penny said carefully. ‘Because she had business of her own to attend to.’

  Stuart nodded slowly. ‘I did wonder that about Professor Rose. Whether the reason why I did not hear him being taken was because no one took him. But why would either of them go wandering off on their own in such a dangerous situation?’

  ‘People will risk anything,’ I said, ‘if the payout is big enough.’

  Stuart looked at me sharply. ‘What payout? What are you talking about? Do you know something I don’t?’

  ‘Most of the time,’ I said.

  ‘Ishmael …’ murmured Penny. ‘Play nicely with the nice Colonel.’

  ‘Penny and I could be gone for a while,’ I said to Stuart, in a tone that was almost an apology. ‘So once you go back in, keep that door shut whatever happens. And protect the others.’

  ‘Whatever it takes,’ said Stuart. For a moment he looked every inch the soldier he still was when it mattered, ready to fight to the last drop of the enemy’s blood. He nodded briskly to us, went back inside, and shut the door. I waited till I heard the chair being jammed firmly into place, and then turned to Penny.

  ‘I thought he’d never go …’ I said lightly.

  ‘How are we supposed to find Marjorie in a house this size,’ said Penny, determined not to be sidetracked, ‘given that we’ve already checked every room and passageway and shadowy corner in this dump once, looking for Professor Rose, and couldn’t find him anywhere?’

  ‘Marjorie has one advantage over the professor,’ I said. ‘Namely, a strong and highly distinctive perfume. I noticed it the moment I met her. Hell, it was so strong it reached out, slapped me round the face and brought tears to my eyes. All we have to do is go back to the bathroom and follow the route they took back, and I can use her perfume to figure out exactly where she left the group.’

  ‘And, of course, you remember the route …’ said Penny.

  ‘Of course,’ I said.

  ‘You get on my nerves sometimes! You know that?’ said Penny. ‘Can you really track her by her perfume in a house full of Ancient Egyptian smells?’

  ‘It’s not going to be easy,’ I said. ‘But given the perfume nearly took my head off at close quarters, it should be like following a trail of really smelly breadcrumbs.’

  ‘Oh, ick!’ said Penny.

  Penny stuck close beside me as we made our way through the house, keeping a careful eye on every door and side turning we passed. Neither of us trusted the house an inch. Our footsteps sounded loud and carried clearly on the wooden floorboards. I couldn’t hear anything else. Faint traces of Marjorie’s scent bobbed along on the air before me, like telltale bubbles rising up out of the swamp of smells.

  ‘Do you have any idea what might have been hidden inside the mummy?’ said Penny, after a while. There’s nothing like unending quiet and unbearable pressure to make people want to break the silence and defy the tension with the sound of their own voice. ‘I mean, why would anyone go to such lengths to conceal something inside a mummy, inside a sarcophagus, inside a tomb?’

  ‘Remember the story Professor Rose told us?’ I said. ‘About the magical gem that fell from the heavens. Cleopatra used it to make herself unnaturally powerful and kill off her enemies by sucking the life out of them.’

  ‘Rose said the gem was lost,’ said Penny. ‘Which was why Cleopatra fell from power.’

  ‘But was it lost? Or was it stolen from her?’ I said. ‘As a result of some conspiracy among her own people because she’d become too powerful? And maybe they hid it inside her mummified body, because that was the perfect ironic hiding place … for something none of them wanted around any more.’

  ‘Why not take it for themselves?’ said Penny. ‘Why weren’t they tempted to become powerful and immortal?’

  ‘I don’t think they trusted it, or each other, after seeing what the gem did to Cleopatra,’ I said. ‘So they got rid of it permanently. A group decision, for the good of all.’

  ‘An Ancient Egyptian jewel with that kind of legend attached would be a real prize for any collector,’ said Penny. ‘And more than enough to attract a top-rank professional thief. No wonder they’ve been running rings round us.’

  ‘It still doesn’t explain why George was bludgeoned to death, while the others died without a mark on them,’ I said. ‘We’re missing some vital piece of information … that will make everything fall into place once we have it. And the best way to find that information is to find the thief and make them tell us.’

  ‘After we save Marjorie,’ said Penny, just a bit pointedly.

  ‘If she needs saving,’ I said, just as pointedly. ‘She could have heard the story from Professor Rose long before the rest of us. She’s had plenty of time to be tempted and make plans.’

  ‘But she was going to inherit the whole collection anyway,’ said Penny. ‘Including the mummy. All she had to do was wait.’

  ‘Everyone said Marjorie was a gold-digger,’ I said. ‘Perhaps she’d just had enough of George and the collection.’

  ‘So all that drunken stuff about her lovely George … None of that was true?’

  ‘Unfortunately,’ I said, ‘people sometimes really are just what they appear to be.’

  It didn’t take long to find where Marjorie left the group. Halfway down the corridor from the bathroom. Someone hadn’t wasted any time … I followed her scent down a side passageway, breathing deeply so as not to lose the trail. Heavier scents from the collection filled my head like the clamour of an excited crowd, but Marjorie’s perfume rose above them through sheer impact. And then something caught my attention, and I slowed my pace right down. Penny looked at me inquiringly and I gestured for her to lean in close.

  ‘What is it?’ she whispered. ‘Have you lost the trail?’

  ‘We’re not alone,’ I said. ‘The footsteps are back.’

  Penny glanced casually back the way we’d come. ‘I don’t see anyone.’

  ‘They’re keeping well back,’ I said. ‘Carry on as though we haven’t noticed, but keep it down to an amble. Let’s see if we can tempt the killer into catching up with us.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘Then I grab him, shake him hard till his eyes change colour, and get some answers out of him.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan to me,’ said Penny.

  We strolled down the corridor, giving our stalker every opportunity to catch up with us, but the footsteps kept their distance. And once again that strange inner alarm was sounding in my head. Like a cold iron bell in the middle of a forest at midnight. A voice from out of my past, warning me urgently to beware of something.

  ‘When you heard those footsteps before,’ Penny murmured, ‘you said they sounded wrong. Has that changed?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘Though I’m still having a hard time putting my finger on exactly what it is that’s wrong. It’s just … people don’t walk like that.’

  ‘If it’s not people,’ Penny said carefully, ‘does that mean … not human?’

>   ‘No. It’s still a man.’

  ‘You’re not being very helpful.’

  ‘I know!’

  ‘We can safely assume they aren’t Marjorie’s footsteps?’ said Penny.

  ‘Definitely,’ I said. ‘I’ve heard Marjorie walk. This is nothing like her.’

  ‘Then there is someone else in the house!’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I’ve had to change my mind so many times my brain has whiplash. Keep going. I’m still following the perfume.’

  ‘Are you smelling any blood?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘But that doesn’t mean as much as it used to.’

  I rounded a corner and there was George’s study. The perfume trail stopped right outside the closed door. I stopped and looked at the door. Penny looked at it, and then at me.

  ‘Is this it?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘She went in there. Into George’s study.’

  ‘That has to mean something,’ said Penny.

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘But don’t ask me what.’

  ‘Are you picking up any other scents? People scents?’

  ‘All I’m getting is the perfume,’ I said. ‘Given how easy a trail it was to follow, I’m starting to wonder if we were brought here deliberately and Marjorie is just bait in a trap. For example, look at the door.’

  ‘What about it?’ said Penny.

  ‘It was standing open when Stuart and I left,’ I said. ‘So why is it closed now? What don’t they want us to see?’

  ‘Why bring Marjorie here, anyway?’ said Penny.

  ‘Good question,’ I said. I pressed my ear against the wood of the door. ‘I’m not hearing anything inside the room.’

  ‘What about the footsteps?’ said Penny, glancing back the way we’d come.

  I straightened up, still looking at the door. ‘They’ve stopped. I think the killer has us right where he wants us.’

  ‘Are you about to say it’s too quiet?’

  ‘I wouldn’t dare.’

  ‘Marjorie could be tied up and gagged in there.’