Part Two

Upstate New York,
1962

“Good morning, Uncle James,” Win greeted his uncle, the morning after his twenty-first birthday party. “Did you sleep well?”

“Not particularly,” the older man replied.

He had spent the night being visited by the ghosts of bad decisions and old mistakes.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Win murmured and lapsed into silence.

His mother took up the burden of entertaining their guest, serving him a hearty breakfast and chatting about inconsequential things. At length, she returned to the kitchen, leaving the two men alone.

“About what we spoke of last night,” Win ventured, sounding rather tentative. “Could we, by chance, talk a little more today? I want to understand.”

James sighed. “What is there to say? We were young and naïve. Others, older and more wily than us, took advantage of our inexperience. But we never knowingly swindled anyone. And by the time we were finished, everything about our business was strictly honest.”

“That’s not what Harlan says,” Win answered, referring to his older brother.

“Well, Harlan wasn’t there,” James all but snapped. His tone softened. “I know that it’s difficult to imagine, but your father and I were your age, once. I admit that some of those first things we did were questionable – but not because we set out to deceive people; only because we, ourselves, were deceived.”

Win frowned. “I wish I could believe that.”

“What’s not to believe?” James demanded, beginning to lose grasp of his temper.

Win looked away. “It’s just that I’ve seen the Anubis statue. And, having seen it…” He shook his head. “Let’s just say, it makes it hard to believe your take on things.”

As his sister-in-law Ruth bustled back in with a fresh cup of coffee for him, James let out a weary sigh.

New York State,
1924

“Hurry up, James!” Thomas urged, as his brother carefully counted the day’s takings. “We don’t want to be late.”

James entered the figures in the ledger and put it away in the safe, then closed its door and spun the dial. He looked around to make sure that nothing else had been neglected.

“The ship won’t be unloaded any sooner, just because we’re watching it,” he answered, rather belatedly.

Thomas shook his head and locked the shop door behind them. “We really need this next shipment,” he pointed out – unnecessarily, in his brother’s opinion. “If we can get it unpacked tonight, it can fill those empty shelves and we’ll be in a better position tomorrow. If we don’t, we’ll drive away potential customers with the mess of packing cases everywhere they look.”

“I’m well aware of your reasoning,” James answered, keeping his steps to a measured pace. “I just don’t see the need for the rush when the ship probably hasn’t even docked.”

But Tom would not be persuaded, which meant that the pair arrived at the wharf while the tug boat still worked. James did not have time to grumble, however, as Thomas spotted an acquaintance and hurried off to speak to him.

“You’re waiting for something, too, Mr. Frayne?” a voice asked, from just behind him.

James turned to see a fellow importer, a man with whom they had occasional business dealings, called Lionel Ritter. He smiled a greeting.

“We wanted this shipment a month ago,” he admitted. “We’ve had no end of trouble.”

The other man nodded. “So have I. And now, I have two shipments arriving at once. If I receive even half of what I think I’m getting, I’ll be hard-pressed finding room to keep it all.” He smiled. “If it comes to that, I’ll drop you a line. We might be able to do each other a favour.”

“Much appreciated,” James answered. He glanced at the ship. “I think we can safely leave for half an hour or so. Can I buy you a drink?”

Ritter nodded. “Thanks.”

They strolled together to a nearby establishment and ordered some beverages which were served in teacups. If they had an altogether different smell, neither of the men commented on it.

“I heard from your brother that you’ll be making a trip back to Egypt soon,” Ritter commented, as they sipped their drinks.

James nodded. “If this shipment has everything it’s supposed to, we’ll be in a position to do that in about two months. If not… well, it will be a little longer, I guess.”

The other man nodded understanding. “If the trip comes off in the next two or three months, I might have a commission for you – paid, of course. A small errand, you could say. It would only take half an hour.”

“I’d need to discuss it with my brother, of course, but that sounds reasonable.”

“Let me know when you make your plans,” Ritter requested. “We can arrange our terms then.”

They spent a little time discussing the current importing environment, and then returned to the wharf in time to see the first of the cargo being unloaded. Ritter drifted off somewhere as Thomas strode towards his brother.

“Where have you been all this time?” he demanded.

James shrugged. “I’ve been looking after our interests. And you were here to supervise, in the unlikely event that I didn’t get back in time.”

Tom grumbled under his breath, but had no arguments against this logic.

They spent the next couple of hours pacing up and down the wharf. Ritter collected his shipment and departed, as did a number of their other acquaintances and several strangers. Midnight neared before their set of crates emerged.

“Get the truck,” James directed, as he saw the last of them being unloaded.

His brother yawned and went to do just that. Another half-hour later, they set off through the darkened streets with their precious shipment.

“We’ll be lucky to unload half of it before it’s time to open up,” Tom grumbled, as he took the turn towards home. “And I don’t know how we’re going to stay awake the whole day, after staying up the whole night.”

“One of us will have to have a sleep,” James answered. “And then the other can sleep while the first minds the shop. Which do you want to do?”

“I don’t want to trust you to do either.” His brother frowned. “But I suppose I’ll have the first sleep. That way, I can fix up your mistakes.”

James shook his head, but let the matter go.

About a third of the way there, they had to pull over and change drivers, as Tom started drifting off to sleep at the wheel. James shook him awake when they reached the shop.

“I can’t unload these crates by myself,” he pointed out.

Tom grunted and tried to go back to sleep.

“You’re the one who wanted to stay up all night unpacking,” James reminded him.

The younger brother groaned. “Okay, okay. I’m coming.”

They unloaded the truck together, by some miracle without dropping anything. James moved the truck away from the door, so that it wouldn’t have to be done in the morning. When he returned to the showroom, he discovered his brother asleep on the floor.

For a few moments, James considered just locking the door and walking back to his lodgings, but he knew that the door would be latched and no one would let him in. With a sigh, he set about unpacking the crates.

He finished the job just as the sky outside began to turn blue. Leaving the crates for Tom to deal with when he awoke, James wound and set the alarm clock they kept for this purpose, set it near his brother’s head and retired to the tiny storeroom at the back of the shop. He climbed up the ladder to a broad shelf that they had fitted out with an old blanket and some cushions. In minutes, he slept.

“James!” A broom handle poked at him. “James! Wake up!”

He groaned. “What is it?”

“What the hell do you think you were doing?” Tom ranted. “How could you let me sleep and make such a complete mess of everything?”

James groaned and swung down onto the ladder. “What are you talking about?”

“The showroom!” Tom answered. “We’re due to open in less than an hour and look at it!”

Standing in the doorway, James surveyed the room. Other than the pile of empty crates and a certain amount of straw on the floor, everything appeared to be in order, as far as he could see. He picked up the broom and handed it to his brother.

“So, sweep. And you can carry the crates outside. That’s all that needs to be done.”

Thomas made a disgusted sound. “But what do you call that thing? And why did you put it there?”

James snatched up the manifest from the cargo and scanned down it. Finding the place, he pointed to the item.

“I carefully compared the list of what we expected to this list before I began – exactly as we agreed we should, each time we receive a shipment,” he explained, with a touch of impatience. “Once I was sure they agreed, I checked off each item against the manifest as I unpacked it. That is item 17, which, if I’m not mistaken, you ordered.”

Snagging the two lists from his brother’s hand, Tom compared the two entries and then peered at the tablet.

“That’s nothing like what Edward described,” he muttered. “We’ve really got to get back there and find a better partner for the Egyptian end. We can never tell if Edward is going to send something good, or something rotten, like this.”

“If that’s what you want, you’d better get the showroom cleaned up and sell some of this stuff so that we can,” James directed. “I need another couple of hours’ sleep.”

He returned to his hidey-hole and lay back down, to the accompaniment of Tom’s muttered complaints. In the few minutes before he dropped back into his exhausted sleep, James wondered what would happen when Edward found out they wanted to replace him.

The next six weeks flew by for the Frayne brothers. The larger, more showy pieces that Edward tended to send kept their shelves looking full. They soon received another shipment, this time from Luis Garcia. His goods appealed to the serious collectors among their clientele. They did some business with Lionel Ritter, who supplied them with cheaper items, mostly textiles, for those who could not afford even the more dubious of Edward’s acquisitions – the ones that they could not in good conscience put even a moderate price on.

At the end of the sixth week, a particularly good one for sales, Thomas examined their bank book and smiled.

“Luxor, here we come,” he told his brother. “And we’ll see what we can do when I’m there to keep you in line.”

James frowned. “But can we really afford to close up shop for a month or more? Maybe it would be better for one of us to stay here.”

Thomas shook his head. “No. We’ll place advertisements saying that we’re going on a big buying trip. We might hurry people along into buying up before we go. And then we’ll have a grand re-opening when we get back. I’ll go and arrange it all on Monday morning.”

James sighed under his breath. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s a good idea, James,” he brother answered. “Just you wait and see.”

Giza,
1924

“I still think we should have gone straight to Luxor,” Thomas grumbled, as he followed his brother through the dusty streets.

“And how, exactly, did you propose to get there? Were you going to grow wings and fly?” James answered. “We had to pass through Cairo anyway and this is just across the river. It makes sense to stop here, where I already know people.”

Thomas grunted. “I don’t want to see the people you know.”

“Well, you’re going to see them anyway.” James stopped to open a door. “This is Garcia’s place. I want you to meet him.”

“Okay. Fine.” Thomas entered the store, wrinkling his nose a little. “I don’t have any objection to him. But I don’t want to see Edward.”

“You won’t find him here,” James assured him, leading him up to the dour man behind the counter. “It’s good to see you, Mr. Garcia. I would like you to meet my brother, Thomas Frayne.”

Garcia nodded a greeting, but did not attempt to smile. “I hope you have been satisfied with the items I have sent.”

Thomas nodded. “Yes. More than satisfied with what you send. Your items sell very well, to a high class of customer.”

Again, Garcia nodded. By his expression, it could be inferred that he was displeased with this assessment, but James knew enough of him to be sure that was not the case.

“This is just a brief visit to Giza,” James explained. “We’re leaving in the morning for Luxor, but we will pass through this way in a couple of weeks. If you have any extra items for sale by the time we return, we would very much like the opportunity to view them.”

Garcia nodded once more. “I have one or two items already – which I can set aside for your return – and I will look out for other items, also.” He crossed to his wooden cabinet and began to display some items to them. He paused, adding, “I have a friend in Luxor who might be of help to you. I will write you an introduction.”

“Thank you, very much,” James answered. He turned to his brother. “Do you see anything that you like here?”

Thomas pointed out the items he wanted and Garcia set them aside before writing the short letter. He handed it to James.

“Be careful,” Garcia told them. “I have heard certain things about Luxor. I would not want you to become victims of them.”

“Do you mean curses?” Thomas asked, a note of scepticism in his voice.

Garcia shook his head. “You and I both risk curses, in our lines of business, but I don’t think any of us are scared of them. I meant something else.”

“Well, I have Thomas here with me now,” James replied. “I’m sure we will be fine.”

The other man nodded. “I hope that you will.”

A few hours later, James took his brother out for a meal in the one place he knew that would serve them. As they stepped inside, he felt almost like he had stepped back in time to the night he first met Clarissa. He took a seat, perhaps the same one he had chosen that night, his twenty-first birthday. Instead of a young woman dressed in the height of fashion, the seat next to him was filled by a tired and rather grumpy Thomas. Sighing under his breath, James ordered for both of them.

“What is this?” Tom asked, gazing with suspicion at the glass served to him.

“Beer,” James answered. “But when the food comes, there’s no point in asking.”

“I’m not eating camel or crocodile or anything,” Thomas warned, wincing at the taste of his beverage.

James shook his head. “It’ll probably be vegetables of some kind.”

“And is this where you met Edward?” he asked. “Is he likely to turn up here?”

For a moment, James frowned. “This is where I met Clarissa and she took me to the place I met Edward. But I distinctly remember her saying she doesn’t come here on Thursdays.”

“Is it Thursday? I’ve lost track.”

An Egyptian boy dumped a bowl of food in front of each of them.

“It smells strange,” Thomas complained.

James ignored him and began to eat.

“Ah, now this is a pleasant surprise,” a voice noted, from behind them. “Fancy meeting you here.”

James turned to see Edward beaming at him. He introduced his brother and, the other man ordering a drink, they all settled down to talk.

“This is just a quick stop-over,” James explained, “otherwise I would have looked you up. We’ll be passing back this way for a longer stop in a couple of weeks.”

“I’ll look forward to catching up with you then,” Edward answered, taking a long draught of his beer. “Business has been looking up at this end. I’ve got a couple of very good suppliers lined up.”

“Did one of them supply that funny little tablet?” Thomas demanded, all of a sudden. “Because I’m not at all satisfied with it. I very nearly brought it back.”

Edward appeared taken aback. “What’s wrong with it? That came from an impeccable source; one of the very best.”

“The paint was practically still wet,” Tom accused. “And it doesn’t look like anything else I’ve seen.”

Edward shook his head. “It’s funny the way these things look new, once they’re cleaned. I’ve seen things pulled out of tombs thousands of years old and the minute they’re cleaned, they could have been made yesterday. It’s amazing. And, of course, if things are unique, it makes them all the more valuable.”

“Well, I’m not satisfied with that one.”

“In that case, I’ll credit you for it,” Edward answered. “Don’t bother returning it. And I’ll add something else to the next shipment to make up for it.”

“That’s very generous of you,” James told him. “We’ll let you know what we need when we get back here.”

The other man drained his glass. “Right-ho. Good to see you, old chap. Must run.” He turned to Thomas. “And it’s good to finally meet you.”

Tom nodded an acknowledgement. As soon as the other had departed, he turned upon his brother.

“What did you say that for? I thought we were cutting him loose!”

James frowned. “It wouldn’t hurt to take one more shipment from him. And it would be easier to cut ties from home, than in person.”

“I suppose so.” Tom’s eyebrows drew together. “But don’t go making any more promises!”

James just shook his head.

Luxor,
1924

“What in heaven’s name have you got there?” James demanded, as his brother entered their rooms late in the afternoon of their first full day in Luxor. “And where the devil have you been?”

Thomas set the middle-sized wooden crate down on the floor and wriggled its lid loose. “While you’ve been lazing around here, I’ve been working.”

“Lazing around! I’ll have you know–”

“Fine. I know. You’ve been sick.” Tom shook his head. “But I did tell you not to eat that fish.”

The statement surprised a laugh out of James. “I ate that fish nearly three weeks ago. It wouldn’t suddenly make me sick now.”

His younger brother did not bother to argue. “Enough about you. I want you to see the things I’ve found.”

James whistled as the straw packing parted and the first item came out of the box, a vase made of faience. “Where did you get this?”

Tom smiled. “I’ve put the word out that we’re looking for suppliers. And I’ve purchased small quantities from two of the front-runners as a sample.”

For several moments, James contemplated the vase he still held. He had to admit – to himself, at least, if not aloud – that his younger brother had a talent for choosing stock. While not particularly large, this item might easily find a place in a museum. Tom seemed to have an instinct for knowing the genuine article from the credible fake, too, which James knew that he himself did not possess. In that moment, he felt himself to be almost superfluous to the venture.

“I’ve left Garcia’s friend for tomorrow, when you can come along,” Tom continued. “But even if he’s no good, I think we’ll do well with one of these other guys.”

James nodded and set the vase down to look at what else was in the crate.

“Even if they don’t end up supplying us more, we’ve got some good pieces here,” he commented. “Is this from both the people you bought from?”

Tom shook his head. “I’m going back to see the other guy in the morning. When I’m sure he’s giving me what he promised, I’ll hand over the money and bring those things back then.”

Again, James nodded. “Well, that’s all to the good. Have you eaten?”

“Without you? Of course not!”

James sighed. “Well, I’m not feeling hungry. If you want to eat, you’d better go and find yourself something.”

Alarm sprang up on his brother’s face. Apparently, finding dealers in antiquities might be child’s play to Tom, but finding a meal required assistance.

“Just go out and walk the streets,” James advised. “Find someone who looks European and ask them if they speak English. If they do, ask them where you can get something to eat. It’s what I did, my first trip, and it worked just fine.”

“Fine. I’ll do that,” Thomas replied, still looking uncomfortable with the idea. “But first, I’d better pack this up.”

He expertly packed the items and pushed the crate into the corner, out of the way. Then, straightening his shoulders, he turned to leave.

“I’ll be back in an hour or two, I guess.” He frowned. “You’d better not be asleep!”

“I’m sure you can make enough noise to wake me,” James answered, pushing him out. “Go. Get something to eat.”

Tom nodded and left. James locked the door behind him and then slumped, exhausted, onto his narrow bed.

Long before morning came, it became clear to James that he would not be going anywhere that day. His illness, which had mostly made him tired and unwell the day before, added some other, more unpleasant symptoms.

Thomas stood by the side of the bed, looking down on him with a frown.

“I can’t help it, Tom.” He wiped a hand over his sweaty face. “If I could just stop being sick, believe me, I would.”

“I know. But there are things we need to do.”

James grunted. “Well, you’re going to have to do them by yourself.”

His brother sighed. “Fine. I’m going to find something to eat. Then, I’m going to pick up that other crate of goods and I’ll bring it back here. After that, I guess I’ll go and see Garcia’s friend.”

James nodded. “Sounds like a good plan.”

The rest of the day, and the following one, passed James in a blur. His brother came and went, banging impatiently on the door to be admitted – James, in his compromised state, insisted on the door being bolted on the inside. After a while, Tom stopped bothering to tell him what was going on.

Early on the third morning, the fever broke. James lay awake and stared up at the ceiling. He could hear the even sound of his brother’s breath, indicating that he was still deeply asleep. Sunlight spilled in through the small, high window, lighting the room. He turned his head and contemplated its contents. All of their belongings had been packed, with varying degrees of neatness. It appeared that their departure was imminent. The thought filled him with dread.

For the first time in days, he felt hungry, but he was too weak to go searching for food now. From outside, he could hear faint sounds of activity. He reached across the small gap between the beds and poked Tom.

“Wake up!”

Tom snored once and tried to turn over. James poked him again.

“Stop it,” Tom mumbled.

“Wake up!” James repeated. “I need you to get me something.”

His brother sat up in bed. “What time is it?” He snatched up the alarm clock and shook it. “Why didn’t it go off? We’re going to be late!”

He jumped out of bed, stuffed the alarm clock into a suitcase and began throwing on some clothes.

“What for?” James wondered.

“I booked us passage back to Cairo,” Thomas explained. “On a boat. Because you’ve been delirious for days and I thought I’d better get you home.”

“I’m feeling… better, I suppose.” He shook his head. “But I’m hungry. You need to get me some food.”

“There’s no time! The man will be here–”

A loud knocking on the door interrupted him. Tom threw the door open.

“You can start loading these up,” he told someone outside. “I just need to get my brother ready and then we can go.”

A man came in and picked up one of the crates. Meanwhile, Tom pulled James into a sitting position and started forcing a clean shirt onto him.

“I’m not helpless,” James complained.

Tom grunted and kept working. Moments later, James revised his opinion. When Thomas tried to get him onto his feet in order to help him into some trousers, he could hardly hold his own weight. He sank back down to the bed, breathing hard. Across the room, his brother added the discarded nightclothes to the suitcase and did up its straps.

The next thing he knew, two men entered with a stretcher. They laid it on the edge of the bed and rolled him onto it before carrying it outside. A donkey cart waited there, already loaded with their luggage. The two men added the stretcher to the load and climbed up on the front. James just lay there, in mild alarm, as they began to trundle off without his brother.

Before they had reached the street corner, however, Thomas ran up after them and climbed onto the back.

“I had to settle our bill,” he explained. “And check we hadn’t left anything behind.”

James nodded. He wasn’t sure whether it was caused by his empty stomach or by the swaying of the cart, but something did not feel right.

“I think I’ll be able to pick up some food before we sail,” Tom continued. “The friend who helped me arrange this says they’ll feed us while we’re on board, but not as often as we’d like. I have a little bit of food packed, but I meant to go out and get some more this morning.”

“We’ll make do,” James answered. “Right now, I’d just like some of that flat bread they make here.”

Tom pulled a face.

Later, when Thomas joined James on board the cargo vessel, he handed over a brown paper bag filled with the bread he’d asked for.

“When you said you’d booked passage,” James commented, in a strained voice. “I thought there would be a cabin involved. Instead, it seems, we will be sleeping on the deck. With the crew.”

“This is what I could get.” Tom gestured to the still-uneaten bread. “You asked for that. Aren’t you going to eat it?”

James took a tentative bite. “The other problem is, how long is this going to take? Is it going to be days? A week? It’s a long way back to Cairo – if that’s where we’re going.”

“We’re getting off at Giza,” his brother answered, with a frown. “And it will take as long as it takes.”

“You couldn’t–”

“No. I couldn’t,” Tom interrupted. “Look, James. This is the best I could do, considering.”

His eyes narrowed. “Considering what?”

Tom shook his head. “You should get some rest. You still look awful.”

Before James had a chance to argue, his brother strode off to the far end of the vessel.

Days dragged by. The boat made its leisurely way down the Nile. James sat and watched the landscape slide past, too weary to do anything more. Every so often, they would dock somewhere and Tom would help with the loading and unloading of cargo. If they stayed at the port long enough, he would explore the area and bring back small items to add to their collection. James began to wonder just how much money they had left.

He also wondered just what had happened while he was unwell in Luxor. Thomas refused, point blank, to answer any questions that did not directly relate to the business and, after the third refusal, James gave up the effort. He expected that the answer would be revealed in good time.

“Here’s your food.” Tom dumped an earthenware bowl in front of him as well as a pile of bread, interrupting his reflections. “And if it doesn’t taste better than it looks and smells, you can probably have mine, too.”

James tore some flat bread and picked up the bowl. “You shouldn’t be so fussy.”

His brother sat down next to him and mirrored his actions, a look of distaste on his face.

“I don’t see why they can’t have knives and forks, like normal people,” Tom grumbled. “And some meat would be nice. I don’t even know what this is.”

“Beans, I think,” James answered between mouthfuls. He used the bread to scoop up some more, letting it cool a little before he ate. “Meat is too expensive here.”

“When I get home…” Tom shook his head. “I’m not going to think about what I’ll eat at home. Not while I have this in front of me.”

James cast him a glance. “It’s quite good, actually.”

Tom scowled at his food. “Giza tomorrow, they think. I’ll be glad to get back on land.”

“So will I.” He hesitated a moment. “How are we going for funds?”

His brother shrugged. “Fine, I guess. There’ll be more than enough for what I expect to buy from Garcia. But we’ve been away long enough. I want to keep this stay to two nights and then we’ll go home, okay?”

James took a moment to chew his current mouthful, thinking. “I’m not sure I’m ready for an ocean voyage,” he admitted, at last. “But maybe a few more days will make a difference.”

“I’m sure they will.” Tom gave his bowl another look. “If I wasn’t so hungry…”

James shook his head at him. “Just eat it!”

Giza,
1924

“That’s a job well done,” Tom commented, as they left Garcia’s store the morning after their arrival. “I think we’ll do well with those things – and with the stuff from Luxor. I’m going to go ahead and find us transport out of here for tomorrow.”

James frowned. Truth be told, he was dreading the trip home and the possibility of seasickness so close after his illness. If he could delay it a few weeks, he certainly would. But before he could begin to broach the subject, his brother grabbed his arm so hard that it hurt.

“Keep walking,” Tom urged, in a low voice. “And act casual.”

“It would be a lot easier to do that if you let go of me,” James answered.

He ignored the suggestion. “This way. We’ll lose him.”

“Lose who?” Receiving no answer to the question, he tried again. “Who are we trying to lose?”

“Don’t look at him! I don’t want him to see your face.”

They ducked around two corners in close succession and then into a store of some kind. James looked around curiously. Thomas, on the other hand, stared at the door.

“I think we lost him,” the younger brother decided, at length, but James wasn’t listening. He was, instead, trying to communicate with the storekeeper about the price of some Egyptian sweets on display.

“Can you remember how to say I just want one of each?” James asked, having lost interest in the intrigue. “Unless you’d like to try some, too.”

“No, of course not.” His brother still acted in an agitated manner. “Let’s go.”

James shook his head. “You brought us in here. We’re having tea. And sweets, if I can make the man understand.”

“I don’t want tea.”

“You brought us in here,” James repeated. “It would be rude not to.”

Ignoring Tom’s grumbling, he finally made an order of some kind and they seated themselves at a low table in a corner.

“Now, what was that all about?” James asked, as they waited to find out just what would be brought to them.

Thomas frowned at the table for a few moments. “I saw a man. I’d seen him before – in Luxor. I didn’t want to see him again.”

“We’re three hundred miles from Luxor. Surely, it’s not the same man!”

“I’m sure it was.”

A pot of tea arrived at their table, along with two cups. After thanking the man and pouring the tea, James asked, “Why were you so anxious not to see him?”

“I wasn’t anxious.”

James took a sip from his teacup. “Yes, you were. And I want to know why.”

The man returned with a plate of sweets, which Tom eyed with suspicion. James selected a pale yellow square, which looked moist and possibly sticky. He took a bite and nodded approval.

“I think you might like this one,” he commented. “I could ask him to fetch you a piece.”

Tom shook his head.

“Then, how about if you explain what’s happening?”

“I just didn’t like the guy. I didn’t want to see him again,” Tom insisted.

James sighed. “Fine. Just drink your tea, okay?”

Still frowning, his brother took a small sip.

They spent the hot part of the afternoon resting in their room. James dozed on and off, not paying attention to what his brother did. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Tom poked him awake.

“Let’s go and get something to eat and then get an early night,” he suggested. “It’s going to be another early morning.”

James rubbed his eyes and sat up. “It’s still too early. They won’t have food ready, yet.”

“I will be so glad to get a good meal at home.” Tom gave his brother another poke. “Go on. Get up.”

“It won’t do any good,” James answered. “And I thought you wanted to lay low and avoid whoever that man was.”

“All the more reason to eat early,” Tom argued. “So get up!”

In the end, James gave in to the nagging, but he took his time getting ready to go. Left to his own devices, he would have waited another half-hour again, but he stepped out into the gathering dusk without further protest.

They made their way to the same establishment they had visited on the earlier part of their trip. James pushed the door open, then looked around the near-empty room. One old man drank tea at a table in the corner. There was no one behind the bar.

“I told you it was too early,” he said, as he stepped back out onto the street. “I don’t suppose there’ll be food here for half an hour or so, at least.”

Tom scowled. “I’m not that hungry, anyway.”

“Well, I am. Or, I will be,” James answered. “How about if we take a walk? You can work up an appetite.”

“I’d rather go back to the room. I don’t want to see–” He broke off, staring over his brother’s shoulder. “Oh, great. That’s almost as bad.”

James turned.

“You’re back in town,” Edward greeted. “I was called away for a week or so and wasn’t sure whether to still expect you, or if we’d missed each other in passing.”

“I wish we had missed each other,” Tom muttered so only James could hear.

“We leave early tomorrow,” James answered. “It’s had to be a much briefer visit than we’d planned, otherwise I would have looked you up.”

“Never mind. Come home with me now and I’ll mix us some pre-dinner drinks.” He began to lead the way, without waiting for their agreement. “And we’ll see if we can snag any other stragglers along the way. Do you know, I’ve been trying to pin down Clarissa ever since I arrived this morning and I can’t seem to find her anywhere.”

“I haven’t seen her since last year’s trip,” James admitted. “And I never knew where she lived.”

“They’ve moved since then,” Edward commented, while at the same time peering down a side street. “Perhaps we might pass by her new lodgings on the way there – it’s not far out of our way – and see if she’s turned up yet. She promised me some pottery that I thought you’d like and I wanted to have it to show to you before you leave.”

“She’s one of your suppliers?” Tom asked, sounding surprised. James saw in his face the tiniest hint of – what was that? Apprehension?

“Why, yes. Didn’t you know that?” The older man shook his head. “It’s not something I want bandied about, of course, considering her position, but yes, she and I have a business understanding.”

They turned a corner and Edward exclaimed, “There she is, now. What luck!” Then, louder, he called, “Clarissa!”

She spun on her heels, hesitated a moment, then smiled brightly. “Oh, Edward, darling. How lovely to see you – and you, too, James – but I’m afraid I can’t stop. Hiram is in a simply dreadful temper.”

They had, by this time, caught up with her. James briefly introduced his brother.

“I had hoped–” Edward began, in a low voice.

“Not here, darling,” she interrupted. “I’ll meet you tomorrow in the club. Today is absolutely impossible.”

Edward nodded, though he did not look happy. “I understand. Until tomorrow.”

She smiled her dazzling smile once more and went inside the house outside which they stood. Edward gestured for them to return the way they had come.

“That’s that, then,” he told them, as they left her behind. “If her husband is in that kind of mood, there’s no point in asking her to do anything for us.”

James frowned as he walked. Several details of that conversation bothered him and he fervently wished for some peace and quiet to work through the problem.

“Well, we won’t bother you any longer, then,” Thomas began, but the other cut him off.

“Nonsense. We’re almost there. Come and have that drink.” He glanced at James. “Are you all right, old chap?”

James shook his head. “Who is she?”

Edward stopped walking. “Why do you ask?”

“She said ‘Hiram’ and you said that was her husband.”

The Englishman nodded. “That’s right. Hiram Houghton, the American archaeologist.”

James felt his stomach drop. “That’s not what she told me. She said her surname was Burton-Price.”

“What!” Edward took his arm. “Look, we’re nearly at my place. Let’s go inside and see if we can nut this out.”

He strode past the last few houses and then ushered them inside. Minutes later, each with one of the promised drinks, they sat down to talk.

“Now, let’s get this straight,” Edward began. “When you first met Clarissa – where was that, by the way?”

“A little place I know – right near where we met up today,” James answered. “In fact, I saw you there a few weeks ago. She sat down beside me at the bar and said she was Clarissa Burton-Price. And I assumed…”

“I always thought that was wrong,” Tom commented. “The Burton-Prices were working in Luxor last year. She should have been three hundred miles away. And I don’t think they’re even here this season.”

Edward shrugged. “I’ve always preferred Giza to Luxor. I don’t know what’s going on down there.”

“Anyway, Clarissa took me to the place where I met you. After that, I never saw her again until today.” He frowned. “I’m surprised she even remembered my name.”

“Oh, I’ve mentioned you to her plenty of times,” Edward answered. He frowned. “Maybe it was just a joke. She had no way of knowing, that night, that we would all be in business together now. She probably thought she’d never see you again.”

“Some joke,” James grumbled. “So, how do you know that she’s who she says she is?”

Edward thought for several moments. “Well, she’s definitely attached to the American dig; that’s the place that most of them are staying, when they’re not out at the dig itself. They all know and respect her.”

“So, where is she getting the things she’s selling to you?” Thomas asked. “Is she stealing from the dig?”

“My good man!” Edward exclaimed. “These expeditions don’t come cheap, don’t you know? If they want to come back next season, they need to get rid of the excess finds. They can’t afford to cart all this stuff back to where they came from. And so, I provide a service to them. I take those things that they can’t and I supply some funds for them to use to dig up more things.”

James kept quiet, thinking this through, but his brother seemed to accept the explanation.

“And, speaking of which, I have a few things to show you,” Edward continued. “The head German bloke has a positive distaste for the Late Period and they’ve just discovered piles of artefacts that he wants to offload. I’ve selected some that I think you’ll particularly like.”

They followed him through to the other room, where Thomas almost drooled over the selection of jars, amulets, bowls and statues. By his conversation, it seemed that he was more than ready to purchase some of these goods. James wryly reflected that their positions seemed to have reversed.

New York,
1924

“What do you think?” Thomas asked, stepping back from the display he had just arranged.

James contemplated the effect for a minute. “Very good,” he pronounced. “I expect you’ll be rearranging it before we’ve been open half an hour, but for now it looks very good indeed.”

His brother looked offended. “Rearranging?”

James nodded. “After we sell some of it. There were three letters telling us to expect their writers at opening time tomorrow. And I don’t suppose that everyone who has the idea of getting in first would have thought to write.”

Tom strolled across to the shelves at the rear, where the Anubis statute James had purchased on his first trip still stood.

“I think the price you’ve got on that is too high,” James commented, as he had done more than once before. “But I rather like him and I’d be sorry if he sold.”

“He’s the only worthwhile thing you bought that first time. And I think he’s probably worth double what I’m asking.” A mercenary gleam shone in Tom’s eyes. “Maybe I should take the tag off him and make it a sale by negotiation item.”

James snorted. “You might as well say it’s not for sale, in that case.”

“I might do that instead. It might encourage our richer clients to make fabulous offers.” He stretched his shoulders. “I’m ready to call it a night. I think we’re going to have a good day tomorrow and I want to be ready for it.”

James nodded. “Fine. Let’s lock up and go home.”

“That was a good trip,” Tom commented, as they walked together. “I think the contacts we made will serve us very well – especially the ones in Giza.”

“I thought you preferred Luxor.”

His brother glanced away. “I did, at first. But I’m coming to see a different point of view. I don’t think I’ll go back to Luxor next time.”

“When is this ‘next time’?” James wondered. “I thought the idea was to establish enough contacts over there so that we didn’t have to keep making expensive trips.”

Tom looked back at him. “Oh, I have a feeling I’ll be going back. Maybe in another year or two, but not much longer than that.”

“If you say so,” James answered. “But we will see.”

Upstate New York,
1962

“What are you bothering your uncle about, Win?” his mother chided, as James took the first sip from his fresh cup of coffee.

A tiny crease appeared on the young man’s brow. “We’re just talking. I just want to understand.”

“About all that old Egyptian business?” Ruth asked. She sighed. “How many times does it have to be explained?”

“I want to hear Uncle James’s version,” Win replied, now looking stubborn. “Because Dad’s doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.”

James set down his coffee cup with a clink. Make sense? How could the whole story of their joint enterprise be made to make sense? He and Tom had seemed to take turns at having poor judgement for the entirety of the first five years they were in business together. There were some choices they made which he regretted; some choices stood up to scrutiny, even with the benefit of hindsight; and still others for which he couldn’t be sure if they had been good or bad.

“The choices we made seemed right at the time,” he mused, more in line with his own thoughts than the conversation he was supposed to be having. “We all make those sorts of choices every day – who to trust, which path to take – but it’s not until later that you see where that path will take you. And it’s very rare indeed that we truly know the consequences of our actions.”

“Which is why I don’t want anything to do with that money,” Win put in. “I want to make my own way in the world, without hurting other people to do it.”

James shook his head. “We never set out to hurt anyone. And you can’t, by sheer will, prevent others being hurt by your actions. The world is not that simple. And other people’s motivations are not that transparent.”

“But you can act with integrity,” Win countered. “I think that’s important.”

“Yes,” James agreed. “That’s something that I’ve always tried to aim for.”

Win frowned. “But I told you I’d seen that statue.”

James sighed, feeling the weight of the years. “Looking at it won’t tell you anything. Not unless you’ve suddenly become an expert archaeologist.”

“Well, no,” Win admitted. “But I read the sign next to it in the museum.”

James laughed. “I’ve read that sign, too. It doesn’t tell a quarter of the story. And it completely fails to mention that the only reason Anubis isn’t at the bottom of the Atlantic is because I bought him. Harlan didn’t mention that fact, did he? If that statue had stayed with the rest of the items from that dig, it would have been lost in a shipwreck.”

“So, you’re saying that there’s justification for your actions?”

James shook his head. “I had no idea what I was buying. I bought that statue in good faith, from a man I thought I could trust. And I developed rather an affection for it. I kept it safe.” He hesitated a moment, weighing up how much he wanted to reveal. “And I think you can draw your own conclusions about how well I did that, considering where you saw it.”

Again, Win frowned. “That doesn’t make it right.”

“No. But nothing I can do now can change what happened nearly forty years ago.” He patted his nephew’s arm. “They say that hindsight is 20-20. We all need to do the best with what we know at the time and hope that our perspective doesn’t change later. One day, you might look back on things and see them in a different light.”

“I hope not,” Win answered. “But I see your point.” He rose from the table. “You’ve given me a lot to think about, Uncle James.”

His uncle nodded and let him leave.

“What are you frowning about?” Nell asked, as she entered the room.

“Oh, nothing much,” he answered, pushing the matter out of his mind. “You’ve finally woken, now, have you?”

“It’s still early,” his wife pointed out. “We don’t all rise with the birds.”

He sighed. “Perhaps I’ll sleep better tonight.”

Nell looked at him sharply. “You’ve come to some peace with Win?”

“Not yet,” he admitted. “But we’ve started in the right direction.”

His wife’s answering smile lit up his whole life.

Continue to part three

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