City of Dreams by Anton Gill

had died. He doubted if the authorities represented by Merymose and Kenamun would pay him as much as Reni or Ipuky would have; and he doubted if he would receive any reward at all if he were unsuccessful.
    He looked up to see Merymose grinning at him. ‘I know what you are thinking,’ he said. ‘Neither of them would have engaged you. Now that we have an escaped political prisoner on the loose, everybody is fighting shy of having anything to do with people like you. Of course it doesn’t affect the really big fish, but even important officials who recanted formally are looking over their shoulders at the moment. That these killings have happened at the same time doesn’t help.’
    ‘Then thank you for getting me any work at all.’ Huy countered affability with affability; but he could not help wondering what strings Merymose had had to pull — or how — to get Kenamun to accept him. He wondered if he should not give his Ka a name, and call it Taheb.
    ‘What did you tell them at the paperworks?’
    ‘They didn’t ask questions. I’d given them time to look for someone to replace me permanently. And they told me that I can have a job back there any time I want.’ Huy grinned. Nothing would drag him back to that grind.
    They had reached the end of the ferry jetties and ahead of them lay the tightly-knit bulk of the town, its few colours — beige, dun, ochre, brown and white — flattened by the sunlight. The shadows provided some relief, and here and there a man or a donkey dozed in one. A thin dog sidled up to them, stopping just out of range of a kick, and looked at them with what it hoped was an appealing expression. It only succeeded in looking craven.
    ‘We’ve nothing for you,’ Merymose told the dog, adding to Huy: ‘If you’re poor and ugly, you can forget about love, eh?’
    ‘What do you want to do?’ asked Huy.
    ‘I want to tell you everything I know about all this so far, and in detail. What do you want to do?’
    ‘I want to look at the bodies.’
    Merymose hesitated again. ‘We’ll have to get permission from the families. They will both be with the embalmers.’
    ‘Then let’s do that. Fast.’
    ‘But what can you possibly tell from the bodies, especially now?’
    ‘They must have died somehow. It may be that looking at the bodies will tell me. I might see something that has been missed.’
    ‘They may have been poisoned.’
    ‘Poison takes time, and it hurts, it turns the lips black. Iritnefert looked peaceful, and her body was relaxed. From what you say, Reni’s daughter did not look different. What was her name? You never mentioned it.’
    ‘Neferukhebit. They called her Nefi.’
    Huy’s stomach leapt, but he hid his surprise from Merymose. The policeman was keeping things from him. Why? Was it just that he was obeying orders from above?
    ‘What did she look like?’
    Merymose told him. Huy hoped that the embalmers knew their job, and had preserved the bodies well. He told himself that he had little to fear; but he was sweating as they made their way into the city.
    Meet by the water, he had told her. Lying waiting for the family to go to sleep, she had begun to lose courage. Perhaps, she had thought, she would not go after all. She would stay, safely in bed, cocooned in the fresh linen sheets scented with seshen , and then perhaps later she would explain, if the opportunity arose. It might not even be necessary.
    But then her pride and her curiosity had got the better of her again, and she remembered why she had agreed to the meeting in the first place. The thought of what might happen scared her, but it thrilled her too. Of course, nothing at all might happen. They might just talk. But that would be a kind of failure, having summoned up the courage to go this far, to take this step; and though he had warned her that it might hurt a little, she trusted him: he was so gentle, so mature. He would not do her any real harm.
    Once she was certain that the house was asleep she had