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Through the dark mirror on the panelled wall, Elliott saw Winthrop and his cohorts withdraw. Pitfield came directly back and took his chair opposite. He signaled for another drink.

"More mayhem," he said. "What in God's name has happened to young Stratford!"

"Tell me."

"Astonishing! Some belly dan

cer, Henry Stratford's mistress. They found her dead, neck broken, in the garden of the house she was sharing with Henry. All Henry's things were there. Passport, money, everything."

Elliott swallowed. He needed another drink badly. It occurred to him that he ought to take some supper just so that he could go on drinking without passing out.

"Same thing that happened to the Oxford student this afternoon, neck broken, and the American kid out at the pyramids, and the maid at the museum. Wonder why he bothered to use a knife on Sharples! You'd better tell me everything you know about this."

The waiter set down the fresh glasses of Scotch and gin. Elliott took his drink and sipped it thoughtfully.

"Just what I was afraid of, the whole thing. He was going out of his mind with guilt."

"Over the gambling."

"No. Over Lawrence. It was Henry, you see, and the poisons in the tomb."

"Good Lord, man, are you serious?"

"Gerald, that's how it all started. He had papers for Lawrence to sign. He probably forged them. But that's not the point. He admitted the killing."

"To you."

"No, to someone else." He broke off, had to think this through, but there was no time. "To Ramsey."

"Ramsey, the one they're searching for."

"Yes, Ramsey tried to talk to him, early this morning, before Henry went on the rampage and broke into the museum. By the way ... you said they'd been to the belly dancer's house. Did they find any evidence of a mummy there, any wrappings? That would certainly tie it up and then they'd stop persecuting poor Ramsey. Ramsey is entirely innocent, you see. He went to the museum to reason with Henry."

"You know this for a fact?"

"It was all my fault. I can't sleep of late, pain in my joints is too severe. Five o'clock this morning I was just coming in from my walk. I'd seen Henry, roaring drunk, near the museum, as I told you. I thought he was pub crawling. And I made the mistake of telling Ramsey, who had just come down for his morning coffee. Ramsey had tried to reason with Henry earlier. And off he went to find him again, for Julie's sake."

"Julie and this Ramsey, they're ..."

"Yes. The engagement's off with Alex. It's all quite amicable; Alex and Ramsey are friends. And the whole thing must be straightened out."

"Of course, of course."

"Ramsey was trying to stop the robbery when the police apprehended him. He's a strange man. He panicked. But surely you can get this cleared up."

"Well, I can do my damnedest. But why in the world would Stratford break into the museum to steal a mummy?"

"That part I can't quite figure." Understatement of the year, he thought. "All I know is that the mummy of Ramses the Damned in London is missing too and apparently he stole some coins and jewelry as well. I believe somebody may have put him up to it. Steal a pair of valuable relics, get some ready cash, that sort of thing."

"So he goes blundering into the most famous museum in the entire world?"

"Egyptian security isn't very good, old boy. And you haven't seen Henry in the last few months, have you? He's quite deteriorated, my friend. This may be a case of pure insanity. The thing is, I can't have Alex and Julie detained in Cairo. And they won't leave until Ramsey's cleared, and Ramsey has not done anything."

He finished off the gin.

"Gerald, get us off the hook, all of us. I'll make a statement, if you advise it. I'll try to reach Ramsey. If he's granted immunity, then surely he'll back me up. You can handle it, Gerald, you know these colonial idiots! You've put up with them for years."

"Yes, I certainly have. This has to be handled delicately, but immediately. And the fact is, they're on to Stratford. It's merely a question of exonerating Ramsey."