Curse of the Pharaohs by Elizabeth Peters

After reading the first two Amelia Peabody novels almost back-to-back, I noticed some similarities between them. Since those parallels involve the solutions to the mysteries, I won’t divulge their secrets. However what imagination Ms. Peters may lack in motives, she certainly has no deficiency in describing late nineteenth century Egypt.

The Curse of the Pharaohs takes place several years after the events of Crocodile on the Sandbank. Amelia is happily married to her gruff but adoring husband Radcliffe Emerson and they are proud parents of precocious five year-old Walter, nicknamed Ramses.

The novel opens in dreary old England with Amelia and Emerson longing for the hot dry climes of Egypt. Although Amelia considers herself the utmost of proper Victorian Englishwomen, her hilariously disastrous attempt at hosting a tea party proves otherwise.

She and Emerson have been devouring the latest news of an archaeologist who died after the discovery of a tomb in Egypt, supposedly due to a pharaoh’s curse. His assistant disappears shortly afterwards.

Naturally, Amelia and Radcliffe are thrilled when the archaeologist’s widow implores them to continue her husband’s work. Soon they are back in Luxor and confronting more obstacles and roadblocks than the tons of rubble blocking the entrance to the tomb.

Another aspect the second novels shares with the first is the Scooby-Doo type presence of a spooky specter. In Crocodile, a mummy prowled the excavation site. In Curse, it’s a mysterious lady in white. However, Amelia, armed with her ever-ready, lethal parasol and her woman’s intuition, uncover the real source of the strange deaths which have nothing to do with a curse. She also can’t resist playing match-maker a second time, mentoring another emotionally fragile young woman deal with multiple suitors.

Despite the numerous repeats, I thought Curse of the Pharaohs was a great follow-up to the first. Amelia’s marriage to Emerson is as strong and stable as ever, even with two of the strongest personalities in England. The story brings ancient Egypt to life although set in the nineteenth century.

I hope the third novel breaks away from the cookie-cutter recipe of the first and second.

Crocodile on the Sandbank by Elizabeth Peters

It’s impossible to not like Amelia Peabody, the main character in Elizabeth Peters’ series. She is the quintessential prim, proper, Victorian-era Englishwoman, always taking charge, making sure the world behaves. That isn’t easy when the world is infested by men, who are boorish, rude and say the most inappropriate things at the most inopportune times.

Despite the omnipresent oppression of the English gentlewoman by the male population, Miss Peabody is well-established at thirty-two, thanks to a large inheritance from her late father, but she has no husband, no suitors and doesn’t want either.

Resigning herself to spinsterhood, Amelia decides to spend the winter in Egypt instead of England’s dreary climate. With barely a foot on the African continent, she rescues a young woman with a sad story. Amelia takes the girl under her wing and up the Nile. This is how Crocodile on the Sandbank, the first in the series begins.

Before leaving Cairo, Amelia and Evelyn meet a pair of archaeological brothers. The youngest, Walter Emerson, is well-mannered, well-spoken and instantly besotted by Evelyn. His older brother, Radcliffe, has an entirely opposite demeanor. He is abrasive, arrogant and condescending to everyone.

Amelia is all too pleased to leave their presence and Cairo with her new ward, but several days into their journey, they encounter the brothers again. Despite the irascible Radcliffe, Amelia is fascinated by the discoveries he’s made at his excavation. But it also seems they have angered the spirit of the long-dead king whose tomb has been uncovered. A mummy begins haunting their camp at night, terrorizing the workers and nearby villagers who fear the old king’s wrath. Amelia and Radcliffe are quite certain there is nothing supernatural going on so what is the purpose of trying to scare them? Who is masquerading as the mummy that is quite athletic and able to elude all attempts to capture him?

As far as cozy mysteries go, this one is as cozy as they get. No gory killings or other extreme acts of violence. The ending, somewhat expected, kept this from being a glorified Scooby-Doo mystery. The jokes are a lot better in Peters’ writing.

Elizabeth Peters pens a great narrative telling her story in first person from Amelia’s point of view. Her writing is witty, charming and a pleasure to read. Crocodile on the Sandbank whets the readers’ appetite for the start of a wonderful journey.

The Last Camel Died at Noon by Elizabeth Peters

Years ago I read a mystery by Elizabeth Peters so I’ve been introduced to Amelia Peabody Emerson and company. Although I can’t remember which one it was, I apparently enjoyed it enough to purchase more of her books.

The flap of The Last Camel Died at Noon made it sound like it would be an intriguing mystery. And it was, but it took a long detour into Neverland. I wondered if I was reading a late-nineteenth century mystery set in England or a tame cross-over with Indiana Jones and Dan Brown. No offense to Ms. Peters. She writes much better than Brown although her stories are a bit cozier.

While the Emersons are entertaining at their palatial estate in London one rainy night, they get several uninvited guests. Arriving at one’s house unannounced is a serious no-no in Victorian England etiquette rules. First, a young man collapses in their parlor and a short time later his overbearing grandfather bursts in.

The older man implores the Emersons to search for his son and daughter-in-law who disappeared into the sands of Egypt fourteen years earlier. Against all odds, Viscount Blacktower has received a coded message that he claims proves his son is still alive.

Amelia and her husband emphatically refuse to go on a rescue mission, especially one with such sketchy details and the possibility of success is remote. They proceed to Egypt, following their own agenda, excavating a site of little archaeological significance. The grandson Reggie appears out of the blue with an entourage in tow. The Emersons are still unmoved but when Reggie is kidnapped by desert wild men while attempting to search for his uncle on his own, they feel they have no other recourse but to go in hopes of rescuing him.

After a brush with death by dehydration, the Emersons are taken to a secret oasis, hidden away, where an entire monarchy thrives with its court and castes. Amelia and her family are treated like royalty but soon find themselves caught in the middle of a civil war between brothers fighting for the throne.

At times the mystery takes a back seat to Peters’ knowledge of ancient Egyptian customs and rituals as she displays for half the novel while the Emersons are embroiled in drama, intrigue and schemes in this hidden nation. There never was an absence of suspense but oftentimes, I wondered where the story was going. When we learn the solution to the mystery, it’s almost a moot point. It’s also wrapped up a little quickly, as in one page.

Despite no page-turning excitement, The Last Camel Died at Noon is a good story, as pleasurable than any other mystery out there.