She gazed at me.
‘Do you know how many men like that pay their discreet visits to places like this? And in any case, my workers are instructed never to ask questions about the clients’ personal lives.’
I tried another line of inquiry.
‘Are there any clients or workers who use drugs on these premises?’
‘What kind of drugs?’ she asked, innocently.
‘Soporific drugs. The opium poppy…’
She pretended to think about it.
‘We would accept no one who was notorious for it. I do all in my power to prevent such things. I run a clean business.’
‘But these drugs are everywhere…’
‘I cannot be held responsible for the private behaviour and the inclinations of my clients,’ she replied, firmly.
‘But they must acquire the drug somehow,’ I said.
She shrugged, avoiding my eyes.
‘There are always merchants, and middlemen, and suppliers. As with any business, especially where there is gold to be made.’
I glanced at Khety.
‘I have long been puzzled by how it is possible for such popular demand to be satisfied. I mean, the number of young people who are apprehended as they make the journey across the borders is small, therefore many must make it successfully to places just like this in each city. It is a route of supply, direct and convenient, and low risk. We know that the kids who come here to work are carriers. And yet even if there were thousands of them, they could still not transport a sufficient quantity of such a highly desirable luxury to satisfy the demand. It is a mystery to me.’
She dropped her gaze.
‘As I said, I do not involve myself in such things.’
I watched her carefully. I realized her pupils were dilated. She saw me looking.
‘It would be no trouble for me to bring a team of Medjay officers down here to search the place. I doubt many of your clients would appreciate the exposure,’ I said.
‘And I doubt you realize how few would appreciate your doing such a stupid thing. Who do you think comes here? Our clients are from the highest levels of society. They would never allow a low-level officer, such as you, to cause any trouble.’
She shook her head and stood up, ringing a tiny bell. The door opened and the two thugs stood there, not smiling.
‘These gentlemen are leaving now,’ she said.
We had left quietly enough, but once we were outside, the thugs looked at each other, nodded, then the one I had teased punched me once, very hard. I confess it was accurate, and it hurt. The other one punched Khety less viciously, just to be equitable.
‘Don’t be so sensitive,’ I said, rubbing my jaw, as they slammed the door. We stood in the dismal and suddenly silent street.
‘Don’t you dare to tell me I deserved that,’ I said to Khety.
‘Fine, I won’t,’ he replied.
We set off into the darkness.
‘So,’ said Khety, ‘how does all that stuff enter the Two Lands? It can’t possibly be managed just through these kids.’
I shook my head.
‘I think these kids, these couriers, are a distraction. They’re irrelevant. The transportation and shipping must happen in much greater quantities. But if it comes in on ships, then harbour officials are bribed, and if it comes by land routes the border guards would be getting a backhander.’
‘Someone, somewhere is making a fortune,’ he said. ‘But whoever it is must be very powerful and very well connected.’
I sighed.
‘Some days this work we do feels like holding back the waters of the Great River with nothing but our bare hands.’
‘I wonder about that almost every morning,’ replied Khety. ‘But then I get up and go to work. And of course, I get to spend my time with you, which is some compensation.’
‘You are a very lucky man, Khety,’ I said. ‘But think: at least the connections are becoming clearer. Each murder has involved stupefying the victims, most likely with the drug. The girl worked here. Most likely the carriers deliver the drugs here. Probably they are distributed from places like this throughout the city. That is something.’
‘And remember also that the killer is keeping you dancing between two worlds,’ he said, and smiled wryly.
If we were right, and the same man was responsible for both crimes, then all I was doing was leaping from clue to clue, like a dog following a trail of food, eyes focused on the ground, not seeing anything else.
I bade Khety good night, and turned wearily away towards my own home for once.
21
The white sun of late morning exonerated nothing and no one from its terrible gaze. The city seemed baked hard and dry, brown, yellow and white, in the heat. I looked up; swooping in and out of the dazzle, I saw a falcon’s dark wings spread wide, making delicate adjustments as it drifted on the levels and currents of the hot desert air. He was Horus, with the right eye of the sun and the left eye of the moon. What did he see, staring down at our strange little world of statues and monsters, crowds and parades, temples and hovels, wealth and pigsties? What would he think of this ceremonial group of tiny figures, protected by feeble sunshades, making its slow, formal way along the Avenue of Sphinxes, lined with perfectly clipped trees, towards the Southern Temple? Did he notice me, dressed like a performer in the white robes of a priest? Did he see us all, in our green world of fields and trees, dependent on the glittering serpent of the Great River, and surrounded by the infinity of the eternal Red Land? What did he see beyond the horizon? I watched as he lingered above us for a long moment, then shrugged and tilted away in the direction of the river, before disappearing over the rooftops.
I had slept badly, again. I had dreamed of the boy. In the dream he wore the face of Neferet, the young girl, and she was smiling at me mysteriously. Then slowly, carefully, I began to peel off her face, but she continued to smile. And when I finally pulled her face off over the top of her head, I saw beneath only a mask of darkness, and smelt the sweet stench of decay. I had woken suddenly, my head pounding. Perhaps the rough wine from the night before had been even rougher than I thought. In the morning I had had no sympathy from Tanefert. And when I had returned from the barber with my head shaved, she had just shaken her head.
‘How do I look?’ I had asked, smoothing my hand over my polished scalp.
‘You look like a big baby,’ she had said, unhelpfully.
‘Not like a priest of the temple, then?’
To her credit, she had laughed out loud.
‘I don’t think so…And don’t come home until it has all grown back.’
Along the Avenue of Sphinxes, well-managed crowds stood mutely and in conformity in the searing stillness of the air, crying out praises as the King and Queen passed by in their chariot. Tutankhamun was wearing the Blue Crown, and was carefully surrounded by a tight phalanx of palace guards, headdress feathers nodding bright in the light, bows and arrows polished and glittering. Theban army soldiers stood all along the Avenue. Simut was doing his job, using all the resources under his command. Ay followed in his chariot. Simut and I rode together. He watched everything with intense attention for any detail out of place, any sign of a problem. Then came a long, shuffling train of many other palace officials and priests, Khay among them, all in identical white robes, each with
