Читать книгу Death Comes as the End - Агата Кристи, Agatha Christie, Detection Club The - Страница 12

Imhotep breathed a sigh of satisfaction as he finished his ceremonial duties as Mortuary Priest. The ritual had been observed with meticulous detail—for Imhotep was in every respect a most conscientious man. He had poured the libations, burnt incense, and offered the customary offerings of food and drink.

Now, in the cool shade of the adjacent rock chamber where Hori was waiting for him, Imhotep became once more the land-owner and the man of affairs. Together the two men discussed business matters, prevailing prices, and the profits resulting from crops, cattle, and timber.

After half an hour or so, Imhotep nodded his head with satisfaction.

‘You have an excellent head for business, Hori,’ he said.

The other smiled.

‘I should have, Imhotep. I have been your man of affairs for many years now.’

‘And a most faithful one. Now, I have a matter to discuss with you. It concerns Ipy. He complains that his position is subordinate.’

‘He is still very young.’

‘But he shows great ability. He feels that his brothers are not always fair to him. Sobek, it seems, is rough and over-bearing—and Yahmose’s continual caution and timidity irk him. Ipy is high-spirited. He does not like taking orders. Moreover he says that it is only I, his father, who have the right to command.’

‘That is true,’ said Hori. ‘And it has struck me, Imhotep, that that is a weakness here on the estate. May I speak freely?’

‘Certainly, my good Hori. Your words are always thoughtful and well considered.’

‘Then I say this. When you are away, Imhotep, there should be someone here who has real authority.’

‘I trust my affairs to you and to Yahmose—’

‘I know that we act for you in your absence—but that is not enough. Why not appoint one of your sons as a partner—associate him with you by a legal deed of settlement?’

Imhotep paced up and down frowning.

‘Which of my sons do you suggest? Sobek has an authoritative manner—but he is insubordinate—I could not trust him. His disposition is not good.’

‘I was thinking of Yahmose. He is your eldest son. He has a gentle and affectionate disposition. He is devoted to you.’

‘Yes, he has a good disposition—but he is too timid—too yielding. He gives in to everybody. Now if Ipy were only a little older—’

Hori said quickly:

‘It is dangerous to give power to too young a man.’

‘True—true—well, Hori, I will think of what you have said. Yahmose is certainly a good son … an obedient son …’

Hori said gently but urgently:

‘You would, I think, be wise.’

Imhotep looked at him curiously.

‘What is in your mind, Hori?’

Hori said slowly:

‘I said just now that it is dangerous to give a man power when he is too young. But it is also dangerous to give it to him too late.’

‘You mean that he has become too used to obeying orders and not to giving them. Well, perhaps there is something in that.’

Imhotep sighed.

‘It is a difficult task to rule a family! The women in particular are hard to manage. Satipy has an ungovernable temper, Kait is often sulky. But I have made it clear to them that Nofret is to be treated in a proper fashion. I think I may say that—’

He broke off. A slave was coming panting up the narrow pathway.

‘What is this?’

‘Master—a barge is here. A scribe called Kameni has come with a message from Memphis.’

Imhotep got up fussily.

‘More trouble,’ he exclaimed. ‘As sure as Ra sails the Heavens this will be more trouble! Unless I am on hand to attend to things everything goes wrong.’

He went stamping down the path and Hori sat quite still looking after him.

There was a troubled expression on his face.

Renisenb had been wandering aimlessly along the bank of the Nile when she heard shouts and commotion and saw people running towards the landing stage.

She ran and joined them. In the boat that was pulling to shore stood a young man, and just for a moment, as she saw him outlined against the bright light, her heart missed a beat.

A mad, fantastic thought leapt into her mind.

‘It is Khay,’ she thought. ‘Khay returned from the Underworld.’

Then she mocked herself for the superstitious fancy. Because in her own remembrance, she always thought of Khay as sailing on the Nile, and this was indeed a young man of about Khay’s build—she had imagined a fantasy. This man was younger than Khay, with an easy, supple grace, and had a laughing, gay face.

He had come, he told them, from Imhotep’s estates in the North. He was a scribe and his name was Kameni.

A slave was despatched for her father and Kameni was taken to the house where food and drink were put before him. Presently her father arrived and there was much consultation and talking.

The gist of it all filtered through into the women’s quarters with Henet, as usual, as the purveyor of the news. Renisenb sometimes wondered how it was that Henet always contrived to know all about everything.

Kameni, it seemed, was a young scribe in Imhotep’s employ—the son of one of Imhotep’s cousins. Kameni had discovered certain fraudulent dispositions—a falsifying of the accounts, and since the matter had many ramifications and involved the stewards of the property, he had thought it best to come South in person and report.

Renisenb was not much interested. It was clever, she thought, of Kameni to have discovered all this. Her father would be pleased with him.

The immediate outcome of the matter was that Imhotep made hurried preparations for departure. He had not meant to leave for another two months, but now the sooner he was on the spot the better.

The whole household was summoned and innumerable exordiums and recommendations were made. This was to be done and that. Yahmose was on no account to do such and such a thing. Sobek was to exercise the utmost discretion over something else. It was all, Renisenb thought, very familiar. Yahmose was attentive, Sobek was sulky. Hori, as usual, was calm and efficient. Ipy’s demands and importunities were put aside with more sharpness than usual.

‘You are too young to have a separate allowance. Obey Yahmose. He knows my wishes and commands.’ Imhotep placed a hand on his eldest son’s shoulder. ‘I trust you, Yahmose. When I return we will speak once more of a partnership.’

Yahmose flushed quickly with pleasure. He drew himself a little more erect.

Imhotep went on:

‘See only that all goes well in my absence. See to it that my concubine is well treated—and with due honour and respect. She is in your charge. It is for you to control the conduct of the women of the household. See that Satipy curbs her tongue. See also that Sobek duly instructs Kait. Renisenb, also, must act towards Nofret with courtesy. Then I will have no unkindness shown toward our good Henet. The women, I know, find her tiresome sometimes. She has been here long and thinks herself privileged to say many things that are sometimes unwelcome. She has, I know, neither beauty nor wit—but she is faithful, remember, and has always been devoted to my interests. I will not have her despised and abused.’

‘Everything shall be done as you say,’ said Yahmose. ‘But Henet sometimes makes trouble with her tongue.’

‘Pah! Nonsense! All women do. Not Henet more than another. Now as to Kameni, he shall remain here. We can do with another scribe and he can assist Hori. As for that land that we have rented to the woman Yaii—’

Imhotep went off into meticulous details.

When at last all was ready for the departure Imhotep felt a sudden qualm. He took Nofret aside and said doubtfully:

‘Nofret, are you content to remain here? Would it be, perhaps, best if, after all, you came with me?’

Nofret shook her head and smiled.

‘You will not be long absent,’ she said.

‘Three months—perhaps four. Who knows?’

‘You see—it will not be long. I shall be content here.’

Imhotep said fussily:

‘I have enjoined upon Yahmose—upon all my sons—that you are to have every consideration. On their heads be it if you have anything of which to complain!’

‘They will do as you say, I am sure, Imhotep.’ Nofret paused. Then she said, ‘Who is there here whom I can trust absolutely? Someone who is truly devoted to your interests? I do not mean one of the family.’

‘Hori—my good Hori? He is in every way my right hand—and a man of good sense and discrimination.’

Nofret said slowly:

‘He and Yahmose are like brothers. Perhaps—’

‘There is Kameni. He, too, is a scribe. I will enjoin on him to place himself at your service. If you have anything of which to complain, he will write down your words with his pen and despatch the complaint to me.’

Nofret nodded appreciatively.

‘That is a good thought. Kameni comes from the North. He knows my father. He will not be influenced by family considerations.’

‘And Henet,’ exclaimed Imhotep. ‘There is Henet.’

‘Yes,’ said Nofret, reflectively. ‘There is Henet. Suppose that you were to speak to her now—in front of me?’

‘An excellent plan.’

Henet was sent for and came with her usual cringing eagerness. She was full of lamentations over Imhotep’s departure. Imhotep cut her short with abruptness.

‘Yes, yes, my good Henet—but these things must be. I am a man who can seldom count on any stretch of peace or rest. I must toil ceaselessly for my family—little though they sometimes appreciate it. Now I wish to speak to you very seriously. You love me faithfully and devotedly, I know—I can leave you in a position of trust. Guard Nofret here—she is very dear to me.’

‘Whoever is dear to you, master, is dear to me,’ Henet declared with fervour.

‘Very good. Then you will devote yourself to Nofret’s interests?’

Henet turned towards Nofret who was watching her under lowered lids.

‘You are too beautiful, Nofret,’ she said. ‘That is the trouble. That is why the others are jealous—but I will look after you—I will warn you of all they say and do. You can count on me!’

There was a pause whilst the eyes of the two women met.

‘You can count on me,’ Henet repeated.

A slow smile came to Nofret’s lips—a rather curious smile.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I understand you, Henet. I think I can count on you.’

Imhotep cleared his throat noisily.

‘Then I think all is arranged—yes—everything is satisfactory. Organization—that has always been my strong point.’

There was a dry cackle of laughter and Imhotep turned sharply to see his mother standing in the entrance of the room. She was supporting her weight on a stick and looked more dried up and malevolent than ever.

‘What a wonderful son I have!’ she observed.

‘I must not delay—there are some instructions to Hori—’ Muttering importantly, Imhotep hurried from the room. He managed to avoid meeting his mother’s eye.

Esa gave an imperious nod of the head to Henet—and Henet glided obediently out of the room.

Nofret had risen. She and Esa stood looking at each other. Esa said: ‘So my son is leaving you behind? You had better go with him, Nofret.’

‘He wishes me to stay here.’

Nofret’s voice was soft and submissive. Esa gave a shrill chuckle.

‘Little good that would be if you wanted to go! And why do you not want to go? I do not understand you. What is there for you here? You are a girl who has lived in cities—who has perhaps travelled. Why do you choose the monotony of day after day here—amongst those who—I am frank—do not like you—who in fact dislike you?’

‘So you dislike me?’

Esa shook her head.

‘No—I do not dislike you. I am old and though I can see but dimly—I can still see beauty and enjoy it. You are beautiful, Nofret, and the sight of you pleases my old eyes. Because of your beauty I wish you well. I am warning you. Go North with my son.’

Again Nofret repeated: ‘He wishes me to stay here.’

The submissive tone was now definitely impregnated with mockery. Esa said sharply:

‘You have a purpose in remaining here. What is it, I wonder? Very well, on your own head be it. But be careful. Act discreetly. And trust no one.’

She wheeled abruptly and went out. Nofret stood quite still. Very slowly her lips curved upwards in a wide, catlike smile.