bellied often led to the discovery of the truth.
Meren set the penholder back on the table and re garded Selket. 'You're telling me that you know the girl killed your husband? You will go before the royal magistrates and give testimony?'
Selket started to speak, then closed her mouth. Her lips pinched together and she shook her head. Meren lifted a brow, but made no comment. She was unwilling to risk the punishment for bearing false witness, but her reticence might not signal an untruth. After all, she could be beaten and starved for three days, or even put to death, for perjury.
'What was the course of your husband's last day?' Meren asked.
'It was like most days,' Selket said. 'He rose. From her bed. And he ate his morning meal here. Then she came in while I was serving him, and demanded some trinket.' Each time Selket referred to the concubine, she hissed out the word 'she' as though it tasted of dung. 'She is always complaining that she has no jewelry, not enough shifts or wigs or cosmetics.'
As he listened to Selket, Meren became aware of his own vague uneasiness. At first he couldn't understand his discomfort, but then he realized that the woman talking to him shifted from fury to complacency and back again in half a heartbeat. When she spoke of Beltis, her eyes took on the look of a rabid hyena, yet moments before she'd mentioned Hormin with a sweet lilt in her voice.
'And after he dined, your husband went to the office of records and tithes,' Meren said. 'He spoke to no one else before he left?'
Selket had been breathing rapidly from the force of her ire. Suddenly she smiled. 'Only to me, about the house, and about our sons. They were avoiding him be cause he was still a bit angry with them. Imsety, my oldest, wanted the old farm since Hormin dislikes husbandry. Djaper supported Imsety, but Hormin wouldn't give it up. It gives us a prosperous living with Hormin's wages. Imsety would have still handed over the proper share to his father, but Hormin was furious at the idea.' Selket waved a hand. 'Sons and fathers will contend, no matter a mother's wishes.'
Meren got up, motioning for Selket to remain where she was. He stooped and picked up a sheaf of papers, household accounts.
'Go on, mistress.'
'My husband went to the office of records and tithes and returned at midday. He ate and went to her, but they fought again. I could hear her shouting at him even though they were in her room. She wanted Hormin to give her a set of bracelets, and he wouldn't.'
Selket laughed, and Meren winced at the loud, barking sound.
'I heard him slap her, then he left and didn't return until afternoon. After he was gone, Beltis ran away.'
Meren cocked his head to the side. The heavy strands of his wig swung to his shoulder, and he nodded for her to continue.
Selket sniffed. 'She runs away all the time. To her parents in the tomb-makers' village on the west bank. Hormin always fetches her back. He did yesterday, unfortunately. When they returned, we all dined.' Selket paused and contemplated her brown hands. 'My husband spent the rest of the evening with her, and I know nothing of what they did. When I rose this morning, I didn't know he was gone from the house until Djaper couldn't find him. It was while we were looking for my husband that we found his office wrecked and looted.
Murder in the Place of Anubis 35
Later, a priest came from the Place of Anubis and told me that he was dead.'
Selket pressed her lips together, and Meren was sur: prised to see a tear creep out of the corner of one eye.
He would never understand some women. She mourned Hormin; he would have been tempted to put the man in his house of eternity long ago.
'And your sons,' Meren said. 'You say they quarreled with their father.'
The flow of tears dammed up at once, and Selket shook her head. 'Only a little. They are dutiful sons. Imsety takes care of the farm outside the city. He only came to ask about getting the deed put in his name, and he'll have to go back soon, to oversee the harvest. Djaper follows the path of his father, and I hope he'll take Hormin's place at the office of records and tithes.'
Meren shuffled the papyrus sheets in his hands. Tak ing his seat again, he laid the papers on the table nearby. One of his assistants would question the servants so that stories about the family's movements could be confirmed. He expected everyone to claim to have slept through the night, for unless one were privileged, work was hot and long. The day began with first light and ended with nightfall.
Tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair, Meren contemplated the furrows between Selket's brow. The woman was little more than a housekeeper to her hus band. Her resentment bubbled on the surface like molten copper in a smith's crucible. The two women worried over Hormin, two jackals fighting over a carcass. Hormin had been enamored of the concubine Beltis, yet he hadn't set aside his wife. Why?
'Mistress,' Meren said. 'Your husband was the son of a butcher who attained the honored position of scribe. You must have been proud.'
Selket's weather-roughened features relaxed, and Meren caught a glimpse of a young woman whose eyes were bright with pride and whose face wasn't parched from the heat of resentment.
'He worked so hard, and he was so careful to attend to the officials who could place him well. When he was given the position of scribe of records and tithes, we held a feast.' Selket's smile turned into a frown. 'But the seasons went by with no other advancement. Hormin saw others less talented but more capable of flattery raised above him. Only a few weeks ago he learned that Bakwerner would be set above him.'
In spite of his much-practiced control, Meren started when Selket's voice rose abruptly and she beat one fist into her palm with a force that would leave a bruise.
Clasping her hands together, Selket leaned toward Meren. 'My lord, Hormin was an unhappy man. He told me that Bakwerner was jealous because he knew that Hormin was a better seribe.' As she went on, Selket's voice got louder. 'It was unfair that my husband wasn't preferred. He waited for so long. Why, if he had been given his due, he would never have taken Beltis. What is she but a burden?'
'A burden?' Meren asked. Selket gave her head a lit tle shake and appeared to remember with whom she was talking. She quieted.
'She is lazy, my lord. She does no chores. She doesn't help with the cooking. All she does is tend to herself. She bathes and arranges her hair and puts on lotions and ointments and cosmetics. And then she goes to the courtyard and lies in the shade or walks to the market to purchase trinkets for herself.' Selket lowered her voice. 'And she opens her legs for other men. She is a fiend; she doesn't even tend to her little son. Hormin purchased a slave girl to do that.'
Murder in the Place of Anubis 37
Meren rose and went to an alcove that held a statue of the god Toth, patron of scribes. He contemplated the man's body and ibis head while he waited for Selket to continue. When she remained silent, he glanced back at her. She was chewing on her lip and eyeing him. He'd seen that look of apprehension before in those who suspect that they have said more than they should.
'Beltis wanted to supplant you?' Meren said this while he resumed his stroll about the room. Avoiding the scattered contents of a jewel box, he stopped to run his fingertips over the lid of a casket.
'But my lord,' Selket said. She smiled with the open grimace of a monkey. 'Beltis never understood Hormin as I did. If she had, she would have known he would never divorce me. Our marriage agreement provides for a generous settlement for me if we part. Hormin and I, we know what it is to work, and to need. We don't give up what is ours.'
Contemplating Selket's expression of pleasure, Meren nodded. 'One thing more. When I arrived you were all fighting about a robbery. You say someone has taken objects from this room. What is missing?'
'I'm not sure. Hormin never allowed anyone in here by themselves, and he kept the valuables under his own hand. Djaper says he saw his father place a broad collar in that casket.' Selket pointed to an ebony and ivory container. 'He said it had beads of gold, lapis lazuli, and red jasper. I've never seen it, but then, Djaper often worked here with his father, and the piece was new. He promised it to her.'
Selket glanced around the room. 'There is an inven tory somewhere. Djaper also says there are copper ingots missing. She probably stole them.'
Meren turned around to face Selket. She was angry at the loss of such rich pieces, but there was no sign of
