Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Crime

No response. The dead pharaoh’s eyes remained as dead as before.

“Maybe he barfed up so much this morning he needs a break?” Jarrett suggested.

“Or maybe he knows we’re here to get rid of him.”

“About that, Harry,” Jarrett said. “Don’t you think it’s time we start suiting up for these assignments? I mean, look at the Ghostbusters. They’ve got all this cool gear. Proton blasters and whatnot, and what have we got? Nothing! I mean, it’s just ridiculous.”

“Ghostbusters don’t exist, Jarrett,” I reminded him. “It’s just a movie. Proton blasters or whatever don’t exist in the real world. They’re props.”

“It could exist. Just say the word and I’m sure I could find us some stuff.”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Let’s just keep doing what we’re doing, which is simply pointing out to these lost souls that they need to move on.”

“One of these days that’s not going to work anymore. We’re going to come up against a spirit who doesn’t want to move on. A spirit so evil diplomacy isn’t going to do diddly—”

Just then, the mummy moved! Or at least his lips moved. Slowly, those leathery, blackened lips opened, and before I could duck, a stream of green gunk shot out from the mummy, and hit me straight in the face!

“Duck!” said Jarrett. Royally late, of course.

I ducked, and Jarrett, instead of following his own advice, just stood there, and was now in the line of fire, taking a big hit of slime. “Yuck!” he yelled, when he’d finally sank down to his knees. “It’s in my mouth! Harry, it’s in my mouth!”

“It’s in my eyes,” I said. “Just keep calm, Jarrett. It’s just ectoplasm. We know the drill.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it!”

I got up, this time making sure I kept a safe distance from the mummy, and planted my hand on my hip. “Mr. Rhamenas, what is your problem? Huh?”

“You assume he speaks English,” said Jarrett, spitting out green goo.

“I’m bored,” suddenly a voice sounded. “Bored to tears. Wouldn’t you be bored to tears if you just had to stand there, stiff as a board, for years and years and years?”

I looked up, and saw that the mummy’s lips had moved. “You speak English?”

“Of course I do. I’ve been in this country for so long I speak the natives’ lingo perfectly.”

“So you’re bored, huh?” asked Jarrett. “Then why don’t you just, you know, move on or something?”

“I can’t,” said the mummy sadly. “Trust me, I’ve tried, but I just seem to be stuck here for some reason.” He shrugged. “So I have a little fun at the expense of those damn tourists who stare at me all day long.”

“Why do you pick on the kids so much?” I asked.

“Oh, God, don’t get me started on the kids,” he said. “They are the absolute worst. They like to stick needles in me when they think the guard isn’t watching, or even light matches to my wrappings, or cut them with a knife hoping to find amulets hidden inside. It’s maddening, I tell you.”

Jarrett nodded. He wasn’t too keen on kids himself, and could see where Rhamenas was coming from. “So maybe you’ve been separated from a loved one?” he suggested. “A girl you were keen on marrying—or a guy?”

“Nope. Too busy with affairs of the state to think about dating. Hell, I’m only twenty-one, buddy.”

“Oh, you’re a handsome young devil, aren’t you?”

“Yep. I was a big hit with the ladies,” Rhamenas confirmed with a horrible grin.

“Why did you die so young?” I asked. “It says here you only reigned a year?”

“A year?” he scoffed. “I wish! I reigned for all of five months and two weeks!”

“What happened?”

“No idea. I was going to invade the Levant again—that’s what we did in the olden days when we got bored—when I suddenly got sick and died.”

“Poison?” Jarrett suggested.

“Could be,” the Pharaoh admitted.

“Look, whatever it was,” I said, “you have got to stop harassing the visitors.”

“Oh? And why would I do that? Like I said, it’s the only entertainment I have.”

“Hey! Why don’t you listen to the lady and buzz off!” suddenly another voice piped up. It seemed to come from across the room. Another mummy was moving in its open sarcophagus, and he did not seem happy.

“You buzz off, Uncle Albinium!” Rhamenas cried.

“If I have to listen to your whining one more day I’m gonna expire!”

“For your information, you’re dead already.”

“Oh, and I don’t know that? Who do you think made me this way?”

“You’re blaming me?”

“We’re all blaming you, young Rhamenas,” another voice spoke. It belonged to the mummy of a female.

“Mom, I was talking to Uncle Albinium.”

“Don’t speak to your mother like that, Rhamenas,” growled a male voice. “Show some respect.”

“Oh, shut up, Dad. I wasn’t talking to you, either.”

Jarrett and I shared a look of concern. Looked like all the mummies in this place were suddenly coming alive. This did not look good!

“Why are you all still here?” I asked. “You’ve been gone for thousands of years.”

“And whose fault is that?” asked Uncle Albinium. “That good-for-nothing Rhamenas killed me!”

“And me,” said the Pharaoh’s mother.

“Add me to the roster,” grumbled his father.

“Wait, you killed your entire family?” I asked.

“Of course I did! How do you think I managed to become Pharaoh at such a young age? If I’d have waited, I’d never been Pharaoh. Don’t think I didn’t know you were all scheming behind my back. You were going to have another baby, weren’t you?”

“None of your beeswax,” said the Pharaoh’s mother sharply.

“We weren’t scheming,” said Uncle Albinium. “We were simply concerned about your mental health, that’s all.”

“Oh, you were worried about my mental health? Maybe you should worry about yours, you old fruitcake.”

“I’m not the nutcase in this family. You are!”

“No, you are! You’re all nuts!”

“Sticks and stones, Rhamenas! Sticks and stones!”

“I think we better get out of here,” I whispered.

“I think you’re right,” Jarrett whispered back.

So we snuck out of the Ancient Egypt room, leaving Rhamenas and his family to fight amongst themselves. When we encountered Julian, I told him he needed to separate the family members. Only then would he ever have a hope of removing these annoying disturbances from his museum.

“I didn’t even know they were related,” he said, surprised.

“Rhamenas killed his own parents and his uncle, because he felt they were trying to keep him from becoming pharaoh,” I explained. “And by putting them all in the same room, you simply reignited these centuries-old resentments.”

“They never were in the same room before,” said the director. “We just thought it would be interesting to have them all in one collection. They were spread out across the globe before.”

“Trust me,” said Jarrett. “Spread them out again. It’ll fix all your problems.”

And as we walked away, we could still hear Rhamenas fighting with his family. “This doesn’t bode well for the Wraith Wranglers, Harry,” said Jarrett, a worried frown on his handsome face.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve never failed a client before.”

“We didn’t fail Julian. He just has to split up the quarreling family and he’ll be fine,” I argued.

“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “I have a very bad feeling about this.” He checked his watch. “Oh, shoot. I’m going to be late.”

“Late for what?”

“Deshawn is on the Graham Norton Show. They’re taping it right now. Wanna come?”