breathed deeply, and then told Rita to go ahead and open the door.
She turned, a rather prim expression fixed on her face, and watched as her uncle Randolph, dishevelled and barefoot, wearing only his dressing gown, came into the room. The museum guard was right behind him, and two gentlemen who appeared to be police in plainclothes, though she did not know precisely why.
"What hi the world is the matter?" she asked." You woke me from a sound sleep on the sofa. What time is it?" She looked about in confusion." Rita, what is going on?"
"I'm sure I don't know, miss!" Rita almost screamed. Julie gestured for her to be quiet.
"Oh, my dear, 1 was terrified," Randolph answered." Henry said ..."
"Yes? Henry said what?"
The two gentlemen in greatcoats were looking at the spilled coffee. One of them was staring at the open handkerchief with its white powder spilled out on the floor. How very like sugar it looked in the sunlight. And there was Henry, suddenly, hovering at the hallway door.
She stared at him for a sullen moment. Killed my father! But she could not allow herself to feel it just now. She could not allow herself to believe it or she would go mad. She saw him again in her mind's eye, holding out that coffee cup for her; she saw his wooden expression, his pale face.
"Whatever is the matter with you, Henry?" she asked coldly, suppressing die quaver in her voice." You ran out of here half an hour ago as if you'd seen a ghost."
"You know damned well what happened," he whispered. He was blanched and sweating. He had taken out his handkerchief and he wiped his upper lip, his hand trembling so badly that she could see it.
"Get a grip on yourself," Randolph said, turning to his son." Now what the devil did you see?"
"The question is, miss," said the shorter of the two Scotland Yard men," has there been some sort of intruder in this house?"
A gentleman's voice and manner. The fear was leaving her. She could feel her conviction returning as she spoke." Indeed not, sir. My cousin saw an intruder? Henry, you must have a guilty conscience. You're having hallucinations. I saw no one here."
Randolph eyed Henry furiously. The Scotland Yard men appeared confused.
Henry himself was in a silent rage. He glared at her as if he meant to strangle her wirn his bare hands. And she glared right back at him, thinking coldly, You killed my father. You would have killed me.
We do not know how we shall feel at such moments. We cannot know, she thought. I only know that I hate you, and I have never hated another human being in my life.
"That mummy case!" Henry blurted out suddenly. He clung to the door as if he didn't dare to come into the room." I want that mummy case opened now."
"You are really past all patience. No one shall touch that mummy case. It contains a priceless relic, which belongs to the British Museum and must not be exposed to the air."
"What the hell do you mean saying these things!" he shouted. He was becoming hysterical.
"Be quiet," Randolph said to him." I've heard quite enough!"
There was noise from outside, voices. Someone had come all the way up the steps and was peering through the front door.
"Henry, I won't have this confusion in my house," Julie said shortly.
The Scotland Yard man studied Henry coldly.
"Sir, if the lady does not want the premises searched ..."
"Indeed, I do not," Julie responded." I think quite enough of your time has been wasted. As you can see, nothing here has been disturbed."
Of course die coffee cup was lying on its side on the plate and the handkerchief was on the floor, but she stood her ground coldly, eyes moving from Henry to the officer. And then to the other officer, who was scrutinizing her just a little too carefully, though he did not offer a word.
None of them saw what she saw - the figure of Ramses coming slowly down the stairs. They did not see him come across the front hallway and silently enter the room. That is, until Julie could not tear her eyes off him, and the others realized it and turned to see the source of her fascination - the tall brown-haired man in the dark burgundy silk bathrobe standing in the door.