The Legendary Detectives II: 8 Classic Novelettes Featuring the World

As the girl departed, Klaw opened an inner door and ushered me into a dainty white room, an amazing apartment indeed, a true Parisian boudoir. The air was heavy with the scent of roses, for bowls of white and pink roses were everywhere. Klaw lighted a silver table-lamp with a unique silver gauze shade apparently lined with pale rose-colored silk.

Evidently this apartment belonged to Isis, and was as appropriate for her, exquisite Parisian that she seemed to be, as the weird barn through which we had come was an appropriate abode for her father.

When presently Isis returned I saw her for the first time in her proper setting, a dainty green figure in a white frame. Moris Klaw opened the bulky leather-bound volume which she had handed to him, and whilst I sat sipping my wine and watching him, he busily turned over the pages (apparently French MS.) in quest of the reference he sought.

'Ah!' he cried in sudden triumph; 'vaguely I had it in my memory, but here it is, the clue. I will translate for you, Mr. Searles, what is written here: 'The Book of the Lamps, which was revealed to the priest, Pankhaur, and by him revealed only to the Queen' (it was the ancient Egyptian Queen, Hatshepsu, Mr. Searles), 'was kept locked in the secret place beneath the altar, and each high priest of the temple – all of whom were of the family of Pankhaur – held the key and alone might consult the magic writing. In the 14th dynasty, Seteb was high priest, and was the last of the family of Pankhaur. At his death the newly appointed priest, receiving the key of the secret place, complained to Pharaoh that the Book of the Lamps was missing.''

He closed the volume, and placed it on a little table beside him.

'Isis,' he rumbled, looking across at his daughter, 'does the mystery become clear to you? Am I not an old fool? Mr. Searles, there is only one other copy of this work-' he laid a long white hand upon the book '-known to European collectors. Do I know where that copy is? Yes? No? I think so!'

There was triumph in his hoarse voice. Personally I was quite unable to see in what way the history of the Book of the Lamps bore upon the case of the headless mummies; but Moris Klaw evidently considered that it afforded a clue. He stood up.

'Isis,' he said, 'bring me my catalogue of the mummies of the Bubastite priests.'

That imperious beauty departed in meek obedience.

'Mr. Searles,' said Moris Klaw, 'this will be for Inspector Grimsby another triumph; but without these records of a poor old fool, who shall say if the one that beheads mummies had ever been detected? I neglected to secure the odic negative because I thought I had to deal with a madman; but I was more stupid than an owl. This decapitating of mummies is no madman's work, but is done with a purpose, my friend – with a wonderful purpose.'

IV.

The Menzies Museum (scene of my first meeting with Moris Klaw) was not yet opened to the public when Coram (the curator), Moris Klaw, Grimsby and I stood in the Egyptian Room before a case containing mummies. The room adjoining – the Greek Room – had been the scene of the dreadful tragedies which first had acquainted me with the wonderful methods of the eccentric investigator.

'Whoever broke into Sotheby's last night, Mr. Klaw,' said Grimsby, 'knew the ins and outs of the place; knew it backwards. It's my idea that he was known to the people there. After having cut off the head of the mummy he probably walked out openly. Then, again, it must have been somebody who knew the habits of Mr. Pettigrew's household that got at his mummy. Of course' – his eyes twinkled with a satisfaction which he could not conceal – 'I'm very sorry to hear that our man has proved too clever for you. Think of a burglar breaking into Mr. Moris Klaw's house!'

'Think of it, my friend,' rumbled the other; 'if it makes you laugh go on thinking of it, and you will grow fat!'

Grimsby openly winked at me. He was out of his depth himself, and was not displeased to find the omniscient Moris Klaw apparently in a similar position.

'I am not resentful,' continued Klaw, 'and I will capture for you the mummy man.'

'What?' cried Grimsby. 'Are you on the track?'

'I will tell you something, my laughing friend. You will secretly watch this Egyptian Room like the cat at the mouse-hole, and presently – I expect it will be at night – he will come here, this hunter of mummies!'

Grimsby stared incredulously.

'I don't doubt your word, Mr. Klaw,' he said; 'but I don't see how you can possibly know that. Why should he go for the mummies here rather than for those in one of the other museums or in private collections?'

'Why do you order a bottle of Bass,' rasped Klaw, 'in a saloon, rather than a bottle of water or a bottle of vinegar? It is because what you want is a bottle of Bass. Am I a damn fool? There are others. I am not alone in my foolishness!'

The group broke up: Grimsby, very puzzled, going off to make arrangements to have the Egyptian Room watched night and day, and Coram, Klaw, and I walking along in the direction of the Greek Room.

'I have no occasion to remind you, Mr. Klaw,' said Coram, 'that the Menzies Museum is a hard nut for any burglar to crack. We have a man – a watchman, you will remember – who hourly patrols every apartment. For any one to break into the Egyptian Room, force one of the cases and take out a mummy would be a task extremely difficult to perform undetected.'

'This mummy hunter,' replied Klaw, 'can perform it with ease; but because we shall all be waiting for him, he cannot perform it undetected.'

'I shouldn't think there is much likelihood of any attempt during the day?' I said.

'There is no likelihood,' agreed Klaw; 'but I like to see that Grimsby busy! The man with the knife to decapitate mummies will come tonight. Without fear he will come, for how is he to know that an old fool from Wapping anticipates his arrival?'

We quitted the Museum together. The affair brought back, to my mind the gruesome business of the Greek Room murders, and for the second time in my life I made arrangements to watch in the Menzies Museum at night.

On several occasions during the day I found myself thinking of this most singular affair and wondering in what way the Book of the Lamps, mentioned by Moris Klaw, could be associated with it. I was quite unable to surmise, too, how Klaw had divined that the Menzies Museum would become the scene of the next outrage.

We had arranged to dine with Coram in his apartments, which adjoined the Museum buildings, and an oddly mixed party we were, comprising Coram, his daughter, Moris Klaw, Isis Klaw, Grimsby and myself.

A man had gone on duty in the Egyptian Room directly the doors were closed to the public, and we had secretly arranged to watch the place from nightfall onward. The construction of the room greatly facilitated our plan; for there was a long glass skylight in the center of its roof, and by having the blinds drawn back we could look down into the room from a landing window of a higher floor – a portion of the curator's house.

Dinner over, Isis Klaw departed.

'You will not remain, Isis,' said her father. 'It is so unnecessary. Good-night, my child!'

Accordingly, the deferential and very admiring Grimsby descended with Coram to see Isis off in a taxi. I marveled to think of her returning to that tumbledown, waterlogged ruin in Wapping.

'Now, Mr. Grimsby,' said Moris Klaw, when we four investigators had gathered together again, 'you will hide in the case with the mummies!'

'But I may find myself helpless! How do we know that any particular case is going to be opened? Besides I don't know what to expect!'

'Blessed is he that expecteth little, my friend. It is quite possible that no attempt will be made tonight. In that event you will have to be locked in again tomorrow night!'

Grimsby accordingly set out. He held a key to the curator's private door, which opened upon the Greek Room, and also the key of a wall-case. Moris Klaw had especially warned him against making the slightest noise. In fact he had us all agog with curiosity and expectation. As he and Coram and I, having opened, very carefully, the