‘Your father was in charge of the collection before you,’ I said carefully. ‘Didn’t he keep a record?’
‘Father hasn’t been on top of things for some time,’ said George.
‘Aren’t you concerned the professor will tell the world what you’ve got here?’ said Penny.
‘We have a deal,’ said George. ‘The professor gets to examine a collection no one else has ever seen and write a book about it, but he doesn’t get to say who owns it or where it is. Our contract has more confidentiality and penalty clauses than a Hollywood pre-nup.’
‘It’s worth it,’ Rose said calmly. ‘For the chance to examine a collection of this magnitude.’
No one apart from George seemed at all interested in the professor. He clearly hadn’t been invited to this little get-together. He was just here to do a job, like one of the servants. It didn’t seem to bother the professor. He just smiled easily at everyone … and showed no intention of leaving.
‘What do you think of the collection, Professor?’ said Penny.
He smiled warmly, and his voice took on a quiet enthusiasm. ‘The Cardavan collection contains little that is particularly rare or truly significant … but the sheer size helps to make clear trends and practices that could shed a whole new light on entire periods of Egyptian history.’
‘Like this new Cleopatra?’ said Penny.
‘Exactly,’ said Rose.
‘But if no one apart from you gets to see it …’ I said.
‘It all adds to the sum of historical knowledge,’ Rose said firmly. ‘My book will be the definitive work.’
‘To what end?’ I said.
He looked down his prominent nose at me. ‘Knowledge is its own end, Mister Jones. I would have expected an expert of your magnitude to know that.’
‘Mister Jones is here at my invitation,’ said Stuart. ‘Specifically, he is here to authenticate the mummy to my satisfaction.’
Rose bridled for the first time, drawing himself up to his full height. Though he didn’t have far to go. ‘I have already done so, and I would have thought my background and expertise would be more than sufficient to satisfy anyone.’ He glared at me coldly. ‘What exactly is your background, Mister Jones? What are your qualifications, your published works?’
Everyone looked at me. I smiled easily back at the professor. ‘A condition of my coming here was anonymity. Given some of the organizations I work for, no one gets to know anything about me beyond what’s necessary. You don’t think Ishmael Jones is my real name, do you? I don’t need to convince you of my bona fides, Professor Rose, nor anyone else here. Stuart knows. George can accept my opinion on his mummy or not, as he pleases. I don’t see why it should matter to you, Professor. After all, you’ll still be here studying the collection and writing your book long after I’m gone.’
Rose nodded stiffly, accepting the point. For now. I looked around at the family. They didn’t seem as sure of me as they had before. Stuart cleared his throat, and everyone turned to look at him.
‘Mister Jones is my expert,’ he said loudly. ‘I vouch for him. That should be enough.’
‘Well of course it is, dear,’ Chloe said quickly. And then she glared round at everyone else.
‘Of course, of course,’ said George, perhaps just a little too quickly to be entirely convincing.
But there was something in the way he looked at Professor Rose that made me think George liked seeing the professor put in his place. Perhaps because the academic was the only one who knew more about the collection than George did. Rose was just there to do a job, not to get above himself.
‘Can I just say I was surprised to find out there are no security guards,’ I said to George. ‘A bit risky, I would have thought, given the obvious value of your collection.’
Everyone pulled a variety of faces, none of them happy. George’s face set into stubborn lines.
‘I won’t have strangers stomping about the place, getting underfoot. This is still a family home.’
‘Is it?’ said Bernard. ‘I remember when it was my home.’
‘Hush, dear,’ said Susan.
‘Why?’ Bernard said loudly. ‘Aren’t I allowed to speak my own mind any longer?’
‘I put my faith in electronic surveillance,’ George said firmly. ‘Security cameras never get bored or tired, or take breaks. I trust them to watch over what’s mine day and night.’
I didn’t. Security cameras are only ever as dependable as the people you set to watch them.
‘What about burglars?’ said Penny.
This time there were pitying looks from pretty much everyone.
‘We’re miles from everywhere,’ said Chloe. ‘Surrounded by acres of open land. No one can get anywhere near us without being noticed. We have unbreakable glass in all the windows, and reinforced doors. Though God help us if there’s ever a fire …’
‘We are not installing sprinklers,’ George said firmly. ‘One false alarm is all it would take to cause untold damage to the collection. There’s a smoke alarm and a fire extinguisher in every room. Settle for that.’
‘Security here is exceptional,’ said Stuart.
I met his eyes for a moment, just to remind him that I would take it very badly if I should turn up on any recordings. He inclined his head, just a little, to show he hadn’t forgotten.
‘But if there was a problem,’ said Penny, still worrying doggedly at the point, ‘How long would it take for help to arrive? Given that we are miles from anywhere.’
‘Armed security men could be here in under an hour,’ said George.
‘A lot can happen in an hour,’ I said.
‘There’s no real danger,’ said Stuart. ‘Most of the items in this collection are so rare they couldn’t easily be sold on.’
‘What about other private collectors?’ I said. ‘What are the chances some of them might be jealous enough to want some of these things for themselves? Just so they could have them, and not you?’
There was an awkward pause. Clearly, certain names were suggesting themselves. Even if no one wanted to say them out loud.
‘None of them would dare,’ George said finally. ‘I’d know. I would make it my business to find out. And they all know that. I have the best defence against being robbed – no one dares steal from me for fear of what I’d do to them.’
‘Are we the only ones in the house?’ I said.
‘It’s just us, for the weekend,’ said Stuart.
George sniffed loudly. ‘Damn staff all insisted on having the weekend off. It’s the only way you can keep servants these days.’
‘Must be a lot of dusting to do around here,’ Penny said innocently.
‘The collection does take a lot of looking after,’ said Chloe. ‘We can’t allow it to deteriorate.’
‘Or depreciate,’ said Nicholas, smirking to himself.
‘We hold these things in trust,’ Chloe said firmly. ‘For future generations.’
‘Then you’d better get on with producing the next generation, girl,’ said George. ‘You’re not getting any younger, you know.’
‘Daddy!’ said Chloe.
She didn’t blush, just glared at her father, while he smiled at her indulgently. I noticed he didn’t say anything to his son, who’d gone back to sulking in the background. Nicholas’s wife, Caroline, studied everyone with sharp, calculating eyes.
‘What,’ I asked, ‘would happen to the collection in the event there was no one left in the family who cared about it?’
I didn’t look at Nicholas when I said that, but certain other eyes glanced in his direction. He scowled back defiantly, but didn’t say anything.
‘There are arrangements in place,’ said Chloe, ‘for all eventualities.’
‘Can you trust your security people to keep quiet about the mummy,’ I said, ‘given how special and newsworthy it is?’
‘For what I’m paying them, they’ll keep their mouths shut,’ George said sharply. ‘They know what will happen to anyone who c
rosses me. And the servants are just here to work. They haven’t a clue what anything is.’
We all broke off as Bernard surged up out of his chair. He was scowling in my direction and shook off Susan as she tried to hold him back.
‘What’s going on here?’ he said loudly. ‘Who are these people? What are they doing in my home?’
‘They’re Stuart’s guests, grandfather,’ Chloe said quickly. ‘Ishmael Jones and Penny Belcourt. You met them earlier, remember?’
‘Yes, yes,’ Bernard said testily. ‘I remember them, of course I do. But what are they doing here?’
‘They’re here to look at my mummy, father,’ said George. ‘Now sit down and have another drink. Mother, can’t you keep him under control?’
Susan ignored him, intent on persuading Bernard to sit down again. He reluctantly did so.
‘He’s getting worse,’ said George.
‘He’s fine most of the time,’ said Chloe. ‘And you know it would be cruel to send him away.’
‘You’re not here all the time, dear,’ said Marjorie, just a bit pointedly. ‘You don’t have to cope with him when he’s having one of his turns.’
‘Hush, Marjorie,’ said George.
‘Yes, dear.’
They were all talking as though Bernard couldn’t hear them, but of course he could. His large hands had closed into fists. He might understand the necessity of his living conditions, but he didn’t have to like it.
‘He almost destroyed the family fortunes,’ said George. ‘I had to take them away from him.’
‘It was necessary,’ said Chloe. ‘We all talked about it for ages.’
‘Behind my back!’ Bernard said loudly.
‘It was for your own good, grandfather,’ Chloe said firmly. ‘You still have a home here …’
Bernard laughed briefly. It was a harsh, bitter sound. He glowered at his son from under heavy brows. ‘You couldn’t wait to inherit, could you, George? You had to have it all, had to be master of Cardavan House. Couldn’t wait till I was decently dead! And you couldn’t wait to start cutting back on the business, laying off people who’d worked for this family all their lives. And now I’m just a boarder in my own home …’
‘You put two mortgages on Cardavan House and then couldn’t keep up the payments,’ said George, entirely unmoved. ‘I saved the house, and I saved the collection from being broken up and sold off to pay your debts. The house and the collection belong to me now, so I can protect them. You still have a home. If you don’t like the arrangement, you can always leave.’
‘And go where?’ said Susan.
George looked uncomfortable for the first time, but his voice remained steady. ‘I don’t want you to go anywhere, mother. You know that.’
Bernard surged up out of his chair again, to stab a trembling finger at his entirely unconcerned son. ‘I’m not senile! And I’m not weak! I can still take back control of this family, if I have to!’
He started forward. Susan grabbed hold of his arm to stop him, and Bernard threw her aside with surprising strength. She crashed to the floor, crying out sharply as she hurt herself. Bernard was too busy shouting at George to notice. Penny moved forward to help Susan. She got in Bernard’s way, and he struck out at her. But I was right there, to grab his wrist in my hand and stop the blow before it reached her. Bernard swore at me and tried to pull his hand free. But he couldn’t. I held him where he was, and then put some strength into my grip. Bernard’s face went white as the pain hit him.
‘That’s enough!’ said George.
It wasn’t clear which of us he was talking to.
‘It’s all right, Ishmael,’ Penny said quickly. ‘I’m fine, really I am. You can let go of him now.’
I released Bernard and he staggered back, nursing his bruised wrist to his chest. Susan was back on her feet, holding herself a little stiffly from where she’d hurt herself in the fall. She shrugged off Penny’s well-meaning help and went to talk soothingly to Bernard. He looked lost, confused. Susan persuaded him to sit in his chair again.
‘This is why I want them here in the house,’ George said quietly. ‘So I can keep an eye on them. When father has his … moments, he doesn’t remember how strong he can still be. Sometimes … it’s hard for me to remember him the way he was before.’
‘You don’t have to do this on your own, Daddy,’ said Chloe.
‘You have your own life to lead,’ said George. ‘You look in as much as you can, I know that. But it’s down to me. I can control him if I have to.’
‘I’m not deaf,’ said Bernard. ‘And I’m not stupid. I know what’s happening to me. Every day it feels like there’s less of me … and I hate it.’ He looked at Susan. ‘I hurt you, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, my dear.’
‘It’s all right,’ said Susan. ‘It’s all right.’
‘No it isn’t,’ said Bernard. And for a moment he seemed on the brink of tears.
No one wanted to say anything.
George busied himself getting fresh drinks for everyone. Conversation began again, as everyone talked about everything except what had just happened. I wondered about the possibilities of my own mental deterioration. After all, technically speaking I was older than Bernard. Physically I could go on for ages, but what about my mind? I decided I was going to have to think about that … and perhaps plan ahead.
‘When are we going to see the mummy?’ said Penny, very brightly. ‘Or the rest of this marvellous collection I keep hearing so much about?’
‘It’s shit,’ Nicholas said loudly, his voice thick with drink. ‘It’s all shit. I don’t want anything to do with it. Never have.’
Everyone looked at him. Caroline put a staying hand on his arm, but he shrugged it off defiantly.
‘When I was just a kid, I hated having to come here to visit with the grandparents. In this horrid old place.’
Susan looked at him, shocked. ‘Nicky, how can you say that? You know we always went out of our way to make sure you had a good time while you were here.’
‘It wasn’t you,’ said Nicholas. ‘It was the house. And the damned collection, everywhere I looked. It gave me nightmares.’
‘Where did all this come from?’ said Chloe. ‘You never said anything about this to me before.’
‘Would you have listened, if I had?’ Nicholas showed his teeth in something that wasn’t really a smile. ‘Daddy’s little favourite.’
‘Don’t be horrid, Nicky,’ said Chloe. ‘You’re drunk.’
‘Doesn’t make me wrong.’
‘If you don’t care about the mummy, why are you here now?’ said Stuart.
Nicholas sneered at George. ‘Because Daddy has a new wife. And so soon after Mummy died—’
He broke off, his lower lip trembling. Caroline took hold of his arm tentatively, and this time he let her. When Nicholas spoke again, his voice was cold and clear. ‘A new wife could mean a new will. One that disinherits you and me, sis, in favour of the new wife and her children.’
Chloe looked at him, startled. The idea had clearly never occurred to her before, but now it had been raised … She looked at Stuart and then at her father. George stared at her unflinchingly, saying nothing.
She turned reluctantly back to Nicholas. ‘If you really don’t give a damn about the collection, why do you care who inherits it?’
‘Because if it’s going to be sold,’ said Nicholas, ‘I want my share. It’s only fair I get something out of it after the way it’s messed up my life.’
‘I should have known,’ said George, and all eyes went to him. ‘It’s always going to be about the money with you, isn’t it, Nicky? Ever since I cut you off for threatening to talk to the museums about things that were none of their business, just to spite me.’
Nicholas smiled nastily. ‘The rich and the poor have one thing in common, Daddy. Money is always going to be the most important thing in their life.’
‘You’re not poor!’ said George.
‘No,’ said Nicholas. ‘And I nev
er will be while I can still make money out of this damned collection.’
‘The family fortunes only exist to maintain the collection,’ said George.
‘You don’t care about it, not really,’ said Nicholas. ‘All that matters to you is that your collection is bigger than anyone else’s. That you’ve got something no one else has. Why couldn’t you collect stamps or comic books, like normal people?’
Caroline’s hand clamped down hard on his arm, interrupting him before he could say something unforgivable. Nicholas subsided, and went back to his drink.
‘I suppose I’ve always taken the collection for granted,’ said Chloe. ‘Never really thought about it … because it was always there. I don’t appreciate it, I’d be the first to admit that. I suppose it’s all very fascinating if you’re interested in that sort of thing … But I do believe it’s important. Surely we can all agree on that?’
She was trying hard to be the voice of reason and bring people together. To keep peace in the family. I got the impression that had been her job for some time.
‘That’s why one day all of this will be yours, Chloe,’ said George. He didn’t even look at his son.
‘But what about the will, Daddy?’ said Nicholas. ‘What if Marjorie gives you more children?’ He grinned at Chloe. ‘You really think that little gold-digger will stand by and let her precious offspring be passed over in favour of us? Better watch what you say, sis. One wrong word and you could end up out in the cold, just like me.’
‘I’d still have Stuart,’ Chloe said calmly. ‘And he is all that’s ever really mattered to me.’
‘You say that now,’ said Nicholas, ‘but …’
‘Shut up, Nicky,’ said Chloe, not unkindly.
‘Why are you here, Nicholas?’ I said. ‘If you really don’t care about the collection or the mummy, and just being in the house gives you the creeps … Why bother turning up for the viewing?’
‘Just to remind everyone I still exist,’ said Nicholas. ‘And that I won’t be overlooked, by anyone.’
‘You always were a sullen child,’ said George. ‘Where were you when your grandfather was throwing away the family’s money? Mister big-time City banker. I tried to contact you a dozen times, but you never answered. I had to save the family on my own!’