Merymose greeted him neutrally. Huy noted that at least there was no aggression in either his face or his voice, and took brief comfort from that: the captain had not been tipped off. It seemed an eternity since they had parted company – but it had only been at dawn on this same day. The Medjay looked as tired as Huy felt.
‘I had not expected to meet you again so soon.’
‘Nor I.’ Merymose’s tone was severe, but perhaps that had more to do with the official nature of the visit than anything else. Huy wondered about the escort, and how soon it would be before he had to open his door to them.
‘You did not tell me about your past last night,’ continued Merymose.
‘I wasn’t aware that it was something that interested you,’ replied Huy.
‘It could have been embarrassing for me to be seen with a former official of the Great Criminal,’ continued Merymose. ‘Taheb should have warned me.’
‘I am sure she thought we would have things to talk about and that is why she placed us together,’ said Huy. ‘As for me, I have done nothing against the edict which prevents me from working as a scribe. If you have read my records, you will know now that I am kept under supervision for some of the time, and that after all I am a very small splinter in the buttock of the state. I doubt if it notices me at all.’
‘Let us hope that is all you are,’ said Merymose. ‘These men will search your house. It is a matter of routine. The homes of all old servants of the Great Criminal are being searched for any sign of the escaped quarryman-prisoner. My own feeling is that, even if you have helped him, you are far too intelligent to allow a trace of your action to become evident to us.’
‘Then why are you here?’
‘First let these men do their job.’ He indicated the door curtly, the bronze bracelet of office on his wrist glinting dully in the sunshine.
Suddenly aware of a tightening at the base of his sternum, and aware too of the beautiful value of the freedom he was about to lose, Huy opened the door and stood aside. The heat of the sun on his face no longer seemed real. He watched the three policemen file into the house as he might have watched actors. He wondered if he should make the usual offer of bread and beer; but this visit was too stiffly official, and in a moment it would be over. He found himself regretting not getting to know Taheb better, now that the opportunity was there; she might genuinely have helped him. He should have let Surere sink or swim by himself. He should have reported him immediately. Perhaps then he might have been reinstated as a scribe. Perhaps…
They stood opposite each other in the street. Huy looked at the familiar scene as if the gods had suddenly placed an invisible screen between it and himself. Half an hour earlier he had belonged here, had had his place, had been the object of no particular attention. He longed to be left alone with the simple problems of loneliness and unemployment again – the two pebbles that had seemed like boulders. The gaunt cat loped by. He looked at it and could not believe that it was the same animal he had seen minutes earlier. The truth was that he was not the same person. How could such an upheaval happen to him, and his surroundings not change?
Merymose showed no desire to enter the house, but lounged idly, ignoring the stares of the passers-by. He balanced on one foot and pivoted the heel of the other against the ground, his arms folded, his torso bent forward and angled to one side. The question came unbidden into Huy’s heart that this was strange behaviour from a man whose summons to work eight hours earlier had been so urgent that his superiors had sent horses for him; but he thrust that problem aside. What would it matter to him either way, in another minute? Perhaps after all this was the culmination of the work which that summons had set in motion.
Huy looked sharply at the house. How much time had passed since the policemen had gone in? Surely by now they would have found him. Before he could stop it, hope, that insidious and beguiling demon, had risen in his heart. It could not be. It could not. Even if he had gone, Surere would have left some trace: he would not have thought to cover his tracks.
Even as these thoughts clambered over one another in his heart, the first policeman emerged, quickly followed by his two colleagues. They were all young men, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old, and this business of searching houses, exciting to begin with, had palled. Their faces were tired and dull.
‘Well?’ asked Merymose, going through the form.
‘Nothing, captain.’
Huy was aware that Merymose was looking at him, and forced his expression to stay blank, even relaxed. He knew he was not a good actor and was sure that the effort would show, but Merymose did not react.
He sent the officers on their way, but made no move to leave himself. Immediately Huy prepared himself for a more thorough, more experienced search of the house, one which would reveal – what? Surere had come with nothing, and would have left with nothing, unless he had taken food from the scant store, or located and raided the battered sycamore box containing the handful of copper, gold and silver which remained from Taheb’s fee, and which Huy kept in a hollow behind a loose brick in the wall which ran under the bedhead.
The Medjay appeared to reach a decision. ‘Come with me,’ he said, ‘I want to show you something.’
THREE
The girl was not more than fourteen. She lay on her back on a wooden trestle table which stood under a palm leaf awning in the shady corner of a broad courtyard in the Place of Healing. They had placed linen wadding soaked in water around her to keep her body cool, but despite the attentions of the attendants there was no stopping the persistent flies, and although it was still early enough in the season of shemu for the sun’s heat to be mild, her face was already puffy.
Huy could see no mark on the body to indicate how she had died. She was naked, except for golden anklets and bracelets set with emeralds. A rich girl, then; but he could see that already from the delicacy of her skin, and the fine soft hands which lay crossed over her small breasts.
‘What is this?’ he asked Merymose cautiously. The two of them stood side by side by the corpse. From time to time a little breeze, trapped in the courtyard, eddied and gusted in their direction, bringing with it the first hint of the sweet smell of decay.
‘It is something I need your help with. Or at least your advice.’
Huy glanced at his companion, but there was nothing in his expression except serious concern. There was not even tension or anxiety. It was as if what had happened did not surprise him.
‘But you know my background. It’s unlikely that asking my help will be approved by your masters.’
Merymose returned his look. ‘For the moment I am in sole charge of this death. In any case, I am not making an official request.’
Huy hesitated. ‘It is difficult for me. You cannot forget who I am and what I was. With a political prisoner escaped, all of us who were at the City of the Horizon must come under increased scrutiny.’
‘Your house will certainly be watched.’
‘And I will be followed. I might lead your men to the fugitive.’
‘That is true. But, if you were prepared to be of service to us…’
‘What makes you think I can be of help?’
‘Everything Taheb has told me about you. Don’t blame her. She wants to help you; and of course people will employ you to help them solve their problems; but that will not make you popular with the Medjays or with Horemheb.’
‘Thank you for the advice. I will be careful.’
Merymose relaxed slightly. ‘It is a pity that you are not a Medjay yourself. Our organisation is only efficient at keeping the streets quiet, and then not always. As for what you do – investigation – that is something new. It interests me, but I am one of very few, and I need instruction.’