The Mysterious Mummy | Page 4

Sax Rohmer
later they grew suspicious of my imitation-it was the handiwork of a
clever Birmingham artist-and the department was closed. The bulky character of the
mummy nearly brought about my downfall, and it was only by abandoning it that I
succeeded in leaving Cairo. I am not proud of that case; I was clumsy. But of the case of
the Rienzi Vase I have every reason to be highly proud. That you may judge of the
neatness and dispatch with which I acted, I will relate how the whole business was
conducted.
You must know, then, that the first flaw I discovered in the arrangements at the Great
Portland Square Museum was this: the wall-cases were badly guarded. I learnt this
interesting fact one afternoon as I strolled about the Egyptian room. A certain
gentleman-I will not name him-was showing a party of ladies round the apartment. He
had unlocked a wall-case, and was standing with a handsome bead-necklet in his hand,
explaining where and when it was found. He was only a few yards away, but with his
back toward the case. Enough! The key, with others attached, was in the glass door. You
will admit that this was exceedingly careless; but the presence of four charming
American ladies . . . one can excuse him!
I regret to have to confess that I was somewhat awkward-the keys rattled. The whole
party looked in my direction. But the immaculate man-about-town, with his cultivated
manner and his very considerable knowledge of Egyptology-how should they suspect? I
apologised; I had brushed against them in passing; I made myself agreeable, and the
uncomfortable incident was forgotten, by them-not by me. I had a beautiful wax
impression to keep my memory fresh!
The scheme formed then. I knew that a body of picked police promenaded the Museum at
night, and that each of the rooms was usually in charge of the same man. I learnt, later,
that there were three bodies of men, so that the same police were in the Museum but one
week in every three. I made the acquaintance of seven constables and frequented eight
different public-houses before I met the man of whom I was in search.
The first policeman I found, who paraded the Egyptian room at night, was short and
thick-set, and I gave him up as a bad job. I learnt from him, however, who was to occupy
the post during the coming week, and presently I unearthed the private bar which this
latter officer, his name was Smith, used. Eureka! He was tall and thin. Incidentally, he
was also surly. But the winning ways of the jovial master-plumber, who was so free with
his money, ultimately thawed him.
Every night throughout the rest of the week I spent in this constable's company, studying
his somewhat colourless personality. Then, one afternoon, I entered the Museum. My
weedy beard, my gaunt expression, and my hollow cough-they were all in the part! I went

up to the Egyptian room to assure myself that a certain mummy case had not been
removed, and having found it to occupy its usual place, I descended to the Etruscan
basement.
For half-an-hour I occupied myself there, but the commissionaire never budged from his
seat. I knew that this particular man was only in temporary charge whilst another was at
tea, for I was well posted, and wondered if his companion were ever coming back.
Luckily, an incident occurred to serve my purpose. The chief attendant appeared at the
head of the steps. 'Robins!' he called.
Robins ran briskly upstairs at his command, and then-in fifteen seconds my
transformation was complete. Gone were the weedy grey beard and moustache-gone the
seedy, black garments and the elastic-sided boots-gone the old opera-hat-and, behold, I
was Constable Smith, attired in mummy wrappings!
An acrobatic spring, and the bundle of aged garments was wedged behind a tall statue,
where nothing but a most minute search could reveal it. Down again, not a second to
spare! Into the empty sarcophagus at the further end of the room; and, lastly, a hideous
rubber mask slipped over the ruddy features of Constable Smith and attached behind the
ears, my arms stiffened and my hands concealed in the wrappings, and I was a long-dead
mummy-with a neat leather case hidden beneath my arched back!.Brisk work, I assure
you; but one grows accustomed to it in time. The commissionaire entered the room very
shortly afterwards. He had not seen me go out, but, as I expected, neither was he
absolutely sure that I had not done so. He peered about suspiciously, but I did not mind.
The real ordeal came a couple of hours later, when a police officer flashed his lantern into
all the tombs.
For a moment my heart seemed to cease
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code

 / 6
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.