The novel is set in summer, 1922. Professor Emerson, the greatest Egyptologist of this or any other age—according to his wife Amelia Peabody—and family are relaxing on the veranda of their home on the Nile when an unexpected visitor arrives. She brings a curious artifact—a box painted with “crude Egyptian symbols” containing a golden statuette. The figurine is perfect, save for one detail: the serpent, normally a part of the crown, is missing. This statuette, Mrs. Pentherick insists, is responsible for her husband’s death. Fearing that the curse of the statuette will fall next upon her, Mrs. Pentherick is anxious to be rid of it. As it turns out, however, Mrs. Pentherick is an author of horror novels, and Amelia, an amateur sleuth as well as an Egyptologist herself, suspects the whole thing is merely a publicity stunt.

Shortly thereafter, Mrs. Pentherick’s step-children put in an appearance, insisting that their step-mother doesn’t have her facts straight. Emerson refuses to relinquish the statuette, and thus begins the quest to discover where it came from. As word spreads, however, it becomes evident that there may be quite a few people interested in the artifact, including a mysterious figure known as the “black afrit.”

Matters are further complicated when Mrs. Pentherick disappears, and further still when she’s found dead.

While Emerson is trying to determine the statuette’s provenance, Amelia is trying to unmask the murderer. As to the latter effort, there’s really no problem in finding a culprit, as three people eventually confess to the crime.

The plot mixes mystery and archaeology, and the reader must sift for clues as an archaeologist might sift sand. While it makes for interesting reading, I did not find it consistently compelling. THE SERPENT IN THE CROWN is one of a series of novels featuring Amelia Peabody, and, although it is a stand-alone work, there are frequent references to earlier episodes. I also found the switching between first- and third-person narrative a bit distracting.

The characters are perhaps the book’s strongest feature. I especially appreciated Emerson, a crusty old curmudgeon revered and feared by all—except his family, or course.
 
The details of Egypt in the early 1920s flavor the entire novel; well-known locales and names (Howard Carter) lend an air of authenticity. Speaking of authenticity, and for a hint of what a future novel might offer, remember what Howard Carter did in November 1922…