The Crozier Pharaohs

to try, but it would be as a memento mori, I fancy.’

‘If she savaged this man,’ said Morpeth, ‘I suppose she will have to be put down.’

‘Hold your horses!’ said Susan. ‘Let’s find out first what the police have to say. I don’t believe that silly old Fret would savage anybody. She wanted the trousers, that’s all. I think that, when the man dashed into the river to get away from her, he missed his footing — those boulders must be as slippery as hell — fell over and bashed his head.’ She went to the telephone and rang up the police at Axehead.

An inspector and a sergeant, both in uniform, appeared in due course and Susan conducted them to the confluence of waters where the dead man lay. They had come prepared and were wearing fishermen’s waders. They slithered on the wet boulders, but retained their footing and soon had the dead man on the bank. There was a nasty disfiguring gash down one side of his face and the inspector was inclined to accept Susan’s theory that the man had dashed into the river to escape the attentions of the dog and had slipped and fallen.

The sergeant had made an attempt to take the trousers away from Sekhmet, but she had turned so menacing and had guarded them so jealously that the inspector said, ‘Leave her be. No sense in getting our fingers bitten off. Perhaps, miss,’ (turning to Susan, who had been watching the manoeuvres with an indulgent and satirical smile) ‘you could help.’

‘Me?’ said the kennel-maid. ‘I can’t spare my fingers, either. She can still smell the aniseed on the trousers, I expect. Once that wears off, I can get them for you easily enough if you really want them.’

‘They will need to be inspected before the inquest, miss.’

‘All right. I’ll let you have them as soon as I can. It’s suicide to try to take them away from her while she’s in this mood.’ So the police took away the body, having ascertained that the dead man was a complete stranger to the Rant sisters — though the sisters told them about the prowler. Later in the day, Morpeth had found Sekhmet lying out in the sunshine and had taken the opportunity to remove the trousers from the shed and take them indoors.

Here what turned out to be a significant discovery was made. A neat operation on the band of the trousers had completely removed the maker’s name.

‘Well, Sekhmet can’t have done that,’ said Morpeth. ‘That has been done with a sharp pair of scissors, not torn out by an enthusiastic dog.’

‘But why?’ asked her sister.

‘To disguise ownership, of course. I think he was our prowler.’

‘But he had no reason to think that we should ever have seen inside the waistband of his trousers. Where is Susan?’

‘Out with Isis and Nephthys, as usual.’

‘Oh, yes, of course. Well, Amon and Anubis had their run this morning and all the excitement of tracking Sekhmet and finding the body, so that lets you out for today if you like, although I must take out my two. You might let the police know that we’ve got the trousers, although I can’t see why they should be needed at the inquest. Give Susan her tea directly she comes in and a meat pasty to take home for her supper. I’m surprised she was willing to go out again. She must have had a nasty shock when she found the dead man, so she may be very glad to get home early and turn in. Give her a bottle of the elderberry wine. She deserves it.’

Morpeth showed Susan the trousers when the kennel-maid came in. Susan examined the hole in the waistband and said, ‘I don’t want to put ideas into your head, but what do you think of the hole?’

‘What do you mean, Susan?’ asked Morpeth anxiously.

‘I think, for Sekhmet’s sake, the police will have to look at these trousers,’ replied Susan. ‘No dog made that hole. A piece has been cut clean out of the garment with a pair of sharp scissors.’

‘Well,’ said Morpeth, ‘I can tell you this: there were no scissors in the pockets when I picked the trousers up and took them from the kennel after Sekhmet lost interest in them. There was nothing in the pockets at all. As for Sekhmet, she’s probably got her nose against the wires of the stable-yard enclosure by now and is trying to attract the attention of Osiris or one of the others. She was lying asleep in the garden when I took the trousers. There was nothing else near her or in her den. That man seems to have been determined to hide his identity, but, then, if he was our prowler — ’

‘I don’t like the look of it,’ said Bryony, when she came home after Susan had gone off with the wine and her supper. ‘If he had no scissors or sharp knife, somebody else could have cut his trousers, although for what purpose I can’t begin to think, unless the death was not accidental. It’s a pity there was nothing in the pockets. The police love fingerprints and diaries and old letters with indecipherable postmarks.’

‘Well,’ said Laura to Dame Beatrice, after finishing her telephone conversation with Morpeth, ‘do we brave the same fate as Jezebel?’

‘Oh, what did the Rant sisters have to say?’

‘It appears that the ill-advised dog-thief who drenched his trousers in aniseed has now lost not only the trousers but his life. He got a nasty knock on the head and Susan, the gifted kennel-maid, tracked down him and the bitch he had walked off with and found the body.’

‘Why have we been summoned? Your remark concerning Queen Jezebel indicates that we are invited to call at Crozier Lodge and be eaten by dogs.’

‘It’s a Mayday Mayday cry of distress. They don’t like the look of things and are asking for expert advice. I said I would ring back when I had spoken to you.’

‘What aspect of the matter has alarmed them?’

‘Morpeth said she would tell us the whole story if we would go over there. Do you feel inclined to brave these Hounds of the Baskervilles some time tomorrow?’

‘We must not be found wanting in womanly sympathy. I suppose they have notified the police?’

‘Oh, yes. That’s what’s worrying them.’

‘Well, one hardly likes to suppose that Susan hit the man over the head and stole his trousers. She has trousers