Murder Most Egyptological (A Mrs. Xavier Stayton Mystery Book 3) by Robert Colton Page A

silent.
       Wilma shook her head. “Stay clear of that … Jezebel.” This last word was said in a stutter as she looked away from Martha.
       Dr. Smith ignored his wife and said, “Some are lucky at love, others at gambling—and Hazel certainly likes to play games.”
       Martha lifted her glass again. “Nice turn of a phrase, William.”
      The compliment caused him to squirm.
       Jacob, now sitting to my left, wore an ivory blazer over a white shirt, black bow tie, and black tuxedo pants. I had seen this done in pictures, but in person, the effect was striking.
       “Tell me, Mrs. Stayton,” began the young Egyptologist, “how long have you been a sleuth?”
       The ruggedly handsome fellow fixed his eyes on mine, and for an instant, I felt like a nervous schoolgirl. Jacob was not as dashing as my Xavier, but he did possess a certain charm.
       “Actually, my goal was to write a whodunit, but in the process, just last spring, I found myself caught up in a murder.”
       “I read about that business in the papers. The butler did it, what a laugh, you certainly couldn’t have ended your novel with that kind of tripe,” said Martha.
       I merely nodded my chin in reply.
       Jacob asked, “So you have no formal training in the field of detection?”
       “I can’t say that I do.” At the conclusion of my reply, the professor gave a little jerk as if he had been kicked from under the table, and then he and his wife exchanged glances.
       Lucy politely came to my defense. “She has a natural knack for detection; tell them what you pointed out to me before we came down for dinner, you know, about your sketches.”
       I felt a rather devious smile form on my face as I responded, “Ah, yes. I do see little details that others might ignore. For example, the broken lid to Kamose’s sarcophagus was never intended for a king. In fact, due to the lack of a beard, I believe it was made for a woman.”
         And then it was Jacob who reacted as if he’d been kicked under the table; he and the professor exchanged glances before Kinkaid spoke, nervously.
       “Mrs. Stayton, I’m sure it didn’t escape your attention that the lid was broken into many parts, as was the beard.”
      “No, the chin was rounded and polished,” I responded in a well-mannered tone.
       Martha pointed at me with her wineglass. “What an eye you have, dear. Maybe the lid belonged to that builder queen whom Jacob does so detest.”
       Jacob ignored Martha and said in a cheerful tone, “The lid, as with most of the items, had been usurped for Kamose’s use. The names and titles were altered, and the beard was added on after it had been carved for its original owner, perhaps a priest. The beard is there in the rubble, I can assure you.”
       “Maybe Percy ran off with the beard; there, Mrs. Stayton, how does that strike you?” asked Martha, sounding as if the alcohol had gone to her head, though her glass was still more than half full.
       The professor took his wife’s hand and squeezed it. “Martha, do—” but he had no more to say.
       The woman tore her hand from her husband’s grip and lashed out, “Do what, Alec, be silent, behave, what? We all know why Mrs. Stayton is here. A valuable mummy and a member of our team are both missing.”
       Kinkaid remained silent and pouted.
       Thank the Almighty, the waiters arrived to take the orders of those who had joined poor Lucy and me for supper.
     
       “I suspect that Kamose was first a regent and then a usurper of the crown. In fact, I wager he started the tomb he was buried in while he was regent. After he claimed the kingly titles for himself, he most likely began a new, grander tomb. After his brief stint of power, his successor saw fit to put Kamose in his original, unfinished crypt.”
       “That does make sense,” I told Jacob, after listening to his theory.
       Martha, who had limited her comments to disparaging