'Merciful Amun,' Imsety groaned.
'The whip is faster,' said a charioteer. 'No need to build a fire and heat the brand.'
Meren held up a hand for silence. 'Which do you prefer, Imsety, the whip or the brand?'
Imsety's face had turned the color of the whitewashed walls. He licked his lips. His mouth worked, but no words came.
'I have said the truth. Djaper told me the collar was the solution to all our troubles. It's so valuable. By the powers of Maat, goddess of truth, I have spoken no lies.'
Meren rose. Folding his arms over his chest, he stared at his gilded sandal, then glanced at Imsety.
'You may go.'
Imsety gaped at him.
'Go, fool.'
A charioteer hauled Imsety to his feet and shoved him toward the door.
'Imsety.'
Hormin's son turned back as Meren called to him.
'Think not of running away. I would find you, and then you would have both the whip and the brand.'
Imsety dipped his head and trundled out of the hall to the accompaniment of the laughter of Meren's charioteers.
Meren snorted, then said to Abu, 'His tale, it is proven?'
'Yes, lord. They spent some hours after the evening meal in the company of an assistant overseer of the Temple of Amunhotep III, then went to a beer-house and shared a woman. The woman described both Djaper and Imsety. Imsety went first and then left the beerhouse. After that, either could have killed Hormin, or both.'
'But first they robbed him.'
'Yes, lord.'
'Why rob him if they planned to kill him?' Meren asked himself.
None of his men answered. Rousing himself from his speculation, Meren noted the deep gold of the sunlight coming through the open door. The day was waning, and he had no answers to the murder of either Hormin or Bakwerner. He thought about paying another visit to Hormin's family, but he wanted to give Imsety plenty of time to alarm Djaper. Tomorrow morning he would descend upon them without warning.
Shadows fell across the threshold as his steward ush ered in two visitors. Meren recognized the keeper of wills of the House of Life, Seb, who had held the post before Meren was born. Seb's dry, yellow-nailed hand rested for support on the shoulder of a youth round eyed with excitement and curiosity. Meren accepted Seb's greeting and waved a hand. A charioteer brought a stool, and when Seb had settled on it, Meren resumed his stance, leaning against a column.
'You have brought the will of the scribe Hormin yourself, good Keeper.'
'Don't I always when there's a good murder?' Seb asked with a cackle that ended in a cough. 'Would have come sooner, lord, but this addled gander here had mis-filed the original and we were a time hunting it down.'
The youth, who had been devouring the weapons and gear of the charioteers, brought his gaze back to Meren and flushed. Having himself been embarrassed by his elders, Meren made no comment. He held out his hand to the youth. The boy gaped at it, then dove for the leather case slung over his shoulder, delved inside, and produced a roll of papyrus.
Meren broke the clay seal of the House of Life, unrolled the papyrus, and read. The room filled with the sound of Seb's labored breathing. Meren skimmed the list of possessions, then noted the half-dozen witnesses. Most were from the House of Life, including Seb, but old Ahmose's name was there as well. None of Hormin's family seemed to have signed; nor had Beltis. No doubt Hormin had kept his intentions to himself as a weapon.
Letting the will snap shut, he held it out. Abu took it from him.
Seb cackled again. 'A grand design for cataclysm, is it not?'
'What do you know, you old gossip-monger?' Meren asked.
'Naught, lord. Naught of murder. I only know that this dead one, this Hormin, caught my interest. As you see, the will is only a few months old. Even so, I
Murder in the Place of Anubis 107 wouldn't have remembered it, or him, if he hadn't offended all my assistants by the time the will was ready for witnessing. That one, he ate and drank furor, survived on the animosity he created more than on the food he consumed. I knew he'd end up standing before the gods, done in violently.'
Meren sighed, hardly surprised at the news. 'Have you anything of substance to tell me, or have you come to pry knowledge of this murder from me?'
'An old man has few joys in life, my lord.'
Seb was whining now, which meant he had come for gossip. Unfortunately, Meren would no doubt need his cooperation in the future. Reluctant to send him away unsatisfied, he spent much more time than he would have liked satisfying Seb's curiosity without giving away important details.
When the old man had gone Meren retreated with Abu to his office, where he reviewed the notes taken by his scribes. Abu read to him reports of inquiries to Hormin's neighbors and household.
'The maids of both Selket and the concubine swear their mistresses were at home asleep,' the aide said. 'They were pressed hard, and both remained adamant.'
Meren pinched the bridge of his nose and laid aside a sheaf of notes. 'Curse it, no witnesses to either murder, no witnesses who saw Hormin go to the Place of Anubis.'
'But Bakwerner was seen lurking about Hormin's house several nights before the murder. A maid next door was entertaining a lover and saw him on two separate nights.'
Nodding, Meren rose and stretched. 'So Bakwerner could have been planning to kill Hormin, and finally did, but then who killed Bakwerner? And why?'
'Perhaps the young one, Djaper,' Abu replied. 'After all, Bakwerner charged into his house bellowing that he 'knew things' and calling for Djaper's blood.'
'Or Djaper could be the murderer, and Bakwerner his second victim. Curse it, Abu, I detest being in the midst of an abundance of possible killers.'
'Aye, lord. Rarely have I seen a man so hated, or a collection in one place of so many capable of murder.'
Meren smiled grimly at his aide. He was about to suggest dinner when a charioteer rapped on the door and entered.
'Well?' he snapped. His men knew him better than to disturb him when he was in one of his pondering sessions. There was news, and it was most likely bad.
'It is the concubine, lord. The concubine Beltis. She packed herself and her boy and left the house. She went to the village of the tomb makers after another quarrel with the family. You should have heard the screaming and howling.'
'I have. Was there aught of interest among the screams and howls?'
'No, lord. Only the same accusations and threats. She only threw a few vases and pots this time. The old woman did kick her ass as she stomped out of the doorway, though,' The charioteer grinned, evoking a smile from Meren.
'Gods, I would have liked to have seen that.'
'Aye, my lord. It was a pleasing sight.'
After dismissing Abu and the charioteer, Meren went to the house in search of food, though his appetite had waned. He knew the cause. Beltis had gone to the village of the tomb makers. Beltis was a dangerous woman, possibly a murderer, and like a spider she'd scrambled and scurried away from a place of exposure to make a nest and cast her web-much too near his son.
9
Kysen stood on the roof of Thesh's house watching the horizon turn a deep turquoise, then ignite with a soft, creamy orange. Behind him stood several beds used by the household on hot nights. The one behind the wicker,
