Phantoms of the Pharaoh Page 22

  "Let's take a moment to calm ourselves, Albert, and let's start from the beginning. Take a deep breath," said Frances.

  Albert opened his mouth and sighed more than breathed, but it was a start.

  "Tell us why you and your sister were here on this holiday," said Frances.

  Albert looked around nervously, but there was no one in the room except for the five of them. He undid the top flap of his rucksack and emptied its contents onto the table in front of them. Jewelry, trinkets, an ankh, golden bowls and other precious artifacts fell onto the table. There were dozens of items, from four inch diameter bowls to a six inch golden ankh all the way down to small inch-sized jewelry.

  "We, I should say Abby, wanted to return the stolen items to their rightful place. They've been nothing but a curse to our family for years."

  Fowler's jaw slackened as he looked at the small pile of valuables sitting right in front of him. Frances kept looking at Albert.

  "But you weren't onboard with that course of events were you?"

  Albert put the soft, crumpled rucksack over his legs and placed his arms on top of it. His hands held each other in sympathy and he frowned and shook his head.

  "No, we needed the money. Me more so than her, but they have been given to her for safe keeping and she wanted to return them. I should have let her. She wouldn't be dead if I'd just let her put them back."

  "What happened when you went to return them, Albert?" asked Frances.

  He looked up at her for a moment before speaking. His mouth trembled and for a moment, Frances thought he might burst into tears, but he didn't.

  "We had a bit of an argument. I tried to convince her that this wasn't such a good idea, but she wouldn't hear of it, so I pretended to go along. We went to the queen's pyramid and found the room beneath the king's chamber. I asked Abby to stand guard, while I hid the stolen items. Abby was so naïve," he said, "and gullible too. She believed I had done it."

  "She didn't ask to look in your rucksack?"

  "No, she took my word on it. You see I'd never lied to her before, and she had no reason to disbelieve me. I told her I still didn't think it was a good idea. Now it might have been the only thing that would have saved her life."

  "Perhaps," said Frances, "but then we wouldn't be able to return these artifacts to their rightful owners."

  Albert nodded his head sadly.

  "And I have lost everything," he said, sounding more upset. "I have lost my beloved sister and I have lost any opportunity at wealth."

  "It was never yours in the first place."

  "Yes, but if we'd not come on this bloody trip in the first place. If Abby had only listened to me, we could have kept both the goods and our lives."

  "I don't know how you would have expected to part with them without notifying the authorities," said Frances.

  "I had lined up a private buyer."

  "Who was that?"

  "I don't know, but the groundskeeper for the late Howard Trenglove knew someone who was very discreet and would be willing to pay £250,000."

  "That's not near their value," said Frances.

  "Yes, I know, but as you said, it's hard to find a buyer for these items lately and I didn't particularly care."

  "You said earlier that you fear for your life. Do you mean that you fear for your safety now?" asked Frances.

  "I do."

  "Why is that?"

  "Because everybody knows I brought this rucksack in here, and the murderer must know that I have these artifacts with me. I'm sure they'll come looking for them."

  "I wouldn't worry about that now, Albert," said Frances. "Perry is going to safeguard these items until they can be returned to their rightful owners. Whether that be the British Museum or the Museum of Cairo."

  Albert nodded.

  "On our first night here, at the hotel," said Frances, "you spoke with Orpha. Do you remember what you said to her?"

  Lady Marmalade knew, as she had overheard them speaking, but she wanted to see how truthful he'd be.

  "Yes, I do remember that. I asked her if I knew her, as she reminded me of someone. But I was mistaken."

  "Who did she remind you of?"

  Albert shook his head slowly.

  "I'm not sure why this is important. It's so stupid now that I think of it. I thought she might have been Lottie. Lottie Hutchings."

  "Who is she?"

  "Part of the Trenglove clan which I'll get to in a bit. She lives in Howard Trenglove's mansion. Only Orpha couldn't have been her, she seems too old, if you'll pardon me. And besides, now that I think about it, Orpha was quite pleasant to me, whereas Lottie had never wanted to have anything to do with me. I also haven't seen Lottie in several years. It was an honest mistake. I just thought for a tiny moment, how interesting it would be to have an acquaintance on the trip with you. You know, small world and all."

  Frances nodded.

  "Last night I mentioned to you that I thought you reminded me of Arthur Vipond. Are you related to him, Albert? The truth now if you don't mind."

  Albert looked down and slowly nodded his head.

  "Yes, you're right. He was my uncle. My mother's brother."

  "Had you always known that he was one of the thieves of the Pyramid of Menkaure?"

  Albert shook his head, and kept looking down.

  "No, not for a long time. My sister and I were always close to him growing up. He was our only uncle, but he would have been our favorite if we had more. Our mother didn't like us spending much time with him but we did anyway."

  "Why was that? Did she know what he'd done?"

  "No, I don't think so. But she knew he didn't earn his money honestly. He lived well. He had a large mansion and the finest cars, and he always spent lavishly on us."

  "When did you learn that he was one of the Menkaure thieves?"

  "Shortly before his death. In 1927, that was three years before he died, his health started becoming quite poor. He called on Abby and I and he confessed to the whole thing. But he wasn't seeking forgiveness, he was proud of what he'd done. He'd spent most of his fortune from selling almost all the stolen artifacts, but he had some left that he wanted to leave to us. It wasn't a lot, what you see here before you is Abby's share. I had spent mine."

  "How had you managed that?" asked Frances.

  "Well, those of you who are law abiding think that just because something is known to be stolen that there aren't buyers for it. I can tell you, that there are many wealthy men, and women, who don't care how an item was obtained. They'll pay good money for it to have it in their private collection. I sold all of mine, and Abby had decided to sell none of hers."

  "But at the time she didn't mind taking the stolen items," said Florence.

  Albert looked over at her.

  "No, she didn't. Her change of heart took some time. I think mostly it was because she didn't want to believe that our beloved uncle was a thief."

  Frances nodded.

  "It took many years after his death for her to come round to the fact that he was a thief and a liar, and that's when she decided she wanted to get rid of them. To try and return them from where they came. She was naïvely sweet natured and innocent that way. I tried to convince her to give them to me or to sell them to me but she wouldn't hear of it."

  "I take it you had run through your share quite quickly?"

  "I had. I guess there was some of Arthur in me."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, when he died, my mother found out the truth. Abby told her that he was one of the thieves, but she didn't tell her that he'd given us the remaining spoils. This ruined my mother and father. It shook her world, really turned it upside down. She felt she had been living a lie all this time. I'm not really sure why. But in any event, her health failed and she died the year after he did, but not without first confessing to Scotland Yard."

  "So nobody could get any of his estate then?" asked Fowler.

  Albert nodded his head.

  "Yes, that's right. But it
was more than that. I told you I was a bit like Arthur, well, he was a spendthrift and had overextended himself. There were more debts than assets at the time of his death."

  "I see," said Frances. "And what about Howard Trenglove's share?"

  "Trenglove died many years before my uncle did. It was in 1907, I believe. What happened was that Arthur stole what was remaining from Howard's share, before his family knew what had happened."

  "Did they know about that?"

  "I'm sure they must have suspected," said Albert, "but Howard wasn't very close to most of his family, so I don't know they knew the full extent of Howard's share at the time of his death. From what I recall my uncle telling me, what Howard had left when he died was roughly equivalent to this amount of Abby's."

  "Do you know much about Howard's family?" asked Frances.

  "I know he had a nephew, the last I heard, the nephew was living in the United States. He also had a niece who moved into the mansion after he passed. She's still there. The Trengloves are generally not very good people, much like their uncle."

  "He was never married then?"

  "No, not that I heard of."

  "And what about the niece or nephew?"

  "Well, the niece is a spinster, as for the nephew I don't think he ever married. Rumor suggested he was queer."

  "I wonder, then," said Frances thinking out loud, “who could have known you'd be out here with all this treasure."

  Albert looked at her and shrugged.

  "The only person who knew we were coming to Egypt besides Abby and me was the groundskeeper who I had to tell, because I was no longer able to let the buyer purchase Abby's share."

  "What did you tell him exactly?"

  "I told him just that. That Abby wanted to return the stolen goods to Egypt and we were going there to do just that."

  "And you thought nothing of that?"

  "Oh God," said Albert, pulling at this hair with his hands, "I didn't. He seemed like the harmless sort. You don't think he would have told, do you?"

  "Quite likely, it seems. I can't see of any other way that this trip of yours got out. What was his name?"

  "Pascal."

  "Did you get his surname?"

  Albert shook his head.

  "Well, I think that shall still help. What was the niece's name. Do you recall?"

  "Yes, she was Lottie Hutchings. From what I heard, she was the daughter of Howard's sister."

  "What about the nephew. Do you know his name?"

  "No, he was sent to boarding school. Last I heard he finished his studies and then went to America. I don't think anybody's heard from him since. To complicate things a bit further, this is how sordid the Trengloves are, there was a second niece who I believe was given away when a baby."

  "I'm not quite sure I'm following all of this, I'm afraid," said Fowler.

  "Let me see if I can help," said Frances. "Albert, correct me if I'm wrong. Howard Trenglove had two sisters."

  Frances looked at Albert and he nodded.

  "Do we know their names?"

  "I'm afraid I only remember the name of the youngest sister. Her name was Hortence, Hortence Hutchings."

  Frances smiled.

  "That helps a great deal. All right, let's try and knit this sordid family all together. Was Howard the oldest, or the middle sibling?" asked Frances.

  "He was the oldest from what Arthur told me."

  "Howard Trenglove was the oldest of three siblings. He never married and never had any children from what we can tell."

  Frances paused to look at Albert, and he nodded his affirmation.

  "Howard Trenglove had two sisters, both of whom were younger than him, obviously. The youngest sister had a daughter..."

  "I believe she was the one who had both daughters," interjected Albert.

  "Right, Howard Trenglove's youngest sister who we know as Hortence Hutchings, which must have been her married name, had two daughters. We know the name of one of them as she's the niece, Lottie Hutchings who lives in Howard's mansion. She also gave up a daughter. I would presume that daughter was the first born."

  Frances looked up at Albert and he nodded.

  "Yes, quite right. I believe she was quite young and unwed at that time. As you can imagine that wasn't spoken about much in those days, so I'm afraid I don't know what her name is."

  Fowler nodded as did Florence.

  "I think I'm getting a clearer picture," he said. "So Howard Trenglove had two sisters, the youngest one of which had two daughters. These were Howard's nieces. We know the youngest niece lives in his mansion, but we don't know what happened to the second one, as she was given away. Correct?"

  Frances and Albert both nodded.

  "So what about the nephew?" asked Fowler.

  "Let me try," said Frances. "Howard's oldest sister, the middle child must have had a son, Howard's nephew."

  Albert nodded.

  "That's correct, but we don't know as much about her as we do about Hortence. She sort of went her own way. We do know her first name which is Edna. But Arthur didn't know if she ever got married or who she married."

  "So how do you know she had a son and he moved to America?" asked Frances.

  "Howard was apparently paranoid, and had Edna investigated periodically just to keep tabs on her whereabouts. He was fearful that he'd be found out or told on by his sisters."

  "Did they know what he had done?"

  "Arthur got the sense that they didn't know for certain, but one has to suspect that they had some gleanings about it as he did make quite a show about his money."

  "This piece puzzles me," said Frances. "You said that Howard kept an investigator looking into Edna periodically, and he found out enough that Edna had borne a son and that the son eventually moved to America, and yet he didn't find out her surname or even if she married."

  "No, that's not quite true," answered Albert. "I didn't say Howard never knew that, just that he didn't share it with Arthur, so I don't know that information. You see, Howard, much like my uncle was a thief and a liar. Thieves are often untrustworthy and as such they don't trust others. I don't think Howard and Arthur trusted each other much at all. That's the impression I got. Most of this information that Arthur got was gleaned from remaining close to Howard and listening carefully over the decades of their friendship if you can call it that. The gaps in knowledge are because Arthur didn't know and Howard wouldn't tell."

  Frances nodded.

  "That makes more sense. So," she said, "we have the middle sister with her name of Edna who had a son and we don't know his name, is that correct?"

  "Quite correct," said Albert, "I was never told his name."

  "There are three offspring from Howard's two sisters," said Florence. "We only know much about Lottie who lives in Howard's mansion. We know that Lottie's mother was Hortence, Howard's youngest sister, and she had another daughter that she gave up but we don't know that daughter's name. Then there was the oldest sister named Edna who eventually had a son who left for America. Am I on the right path?"

  Albert nodded, and grinned at her.

  "I told you it was quite the sordid family."

  "More like confusing," said Florence, sighing. "I honestly can't make head or tail of it. Neither do I know whether this is important or not."

  Florence looked over at Frances, and then at Fowler.

  "I'm with you," said Fowler. "This all makes my head spin and I can't fathom why we're even wasting our time on it."

  "Because it is crucially important," said Frances.

  "Could you explain simply for those of us not versed in the dark arts of detective work," said Fowler, grinning.

  "Certainly," said Frances as she smiled back at him. "There has been one thing that has puzzled me from the beginning with this particular murder. We have twelve strangers all gathered for a holiday and one of them gets murdered for stolen goods from 1895. That seems highly coincidental."

  "I always thought it was a crime of opportunity," said Fowl
er. "Ever since Abigail's bag spilled open showing it's contents at the hotel, everybody would have seen the artifacts."

  "That's quite true," agreed Frances, "but that's because both you and I know where those valuables came from. To someone not very well versed with ancient Egyptian history and archaeology, they would look like nothing more than trinkets. No, I don't believe in coincidence, at least not usually. And that has puzzled me up until this time. And then all the lies that most of the other guests have been feeding us. I've always felt that there must have been more to it than meets the eye. Albert has just given us that missing piece."

  "I'm afraid I still don't quite understand," said Fowler.

  "I believe by tomorrow you will. I believe there are relationships amongst us that we have yet to uncover. Or at least relationships that stretch back to Vipond and Trenglove," said Frances.

  "If you say so," said Fowler.

  "Frankly, Fran, my head aches just trying to keep all of this together."

  "I understand. Never have I come across such a complicated crime before. But I think the light of day tomorrow will reveal the truth."

  Frances turned to Albert.

  "Is there anything else you might like to add?" she asked Albert.

  "I'll need a new room if you don't mind," Albert said, looking at Perry.

  "Already done," said Fowler.

  "I think that will be all then," said Frances. "I would advise you not to mention what was discussed here with any of the other guests. We don't want to tip our hat, however little it appears that we know at this stage, to the murderer it could be everything."

  Albert nodded and stood up. He shook hands with all of them.

  "Could you leave the rucksack, Albert?" asked France.

  He placed it on top of the stolen artifacts.

  "You will make him pay for this, won't you?" asked Albert. He looked intently into Lady Marmalade's eyes.

  "I will," she said with certainty, and watched him walk across the dining room and climb the stairs to the upper deck.

  "Well," said Fowler, "I think my work here is done. I'm not going to worry about who did it until you hear back from Scotland Yard. I'm afraid my little gray cells are overtaxed."

  He grinned at her.

  "I quite agree, it's been a jolly difficult few hours," said Florence, "and I still don't feel that we're any closer to uncovering the murderer's identity."