by LJM Owen
Elizabeth touched Rhoz’s arm – her friend was shaking. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Why don’t you all take a seat?’ the older man said to Elizabeth, Rhoz and Nathan. ‘I’ll bring out your coffees. Cappuccinos, was it? On the house, of course.’
Nathan hovered protectively as Elizabeth led Rhoz to a quiet table at the back of the cafe. ‘I hate to say it, but did that waiter seem a little…testerical to you?’ he said, in his most jovial tone.
Rhoz began to chuckle. ‘Yes.’
Relieved, Elizabeth wondered if she should raise the Golden Tomb investigation another time.
‘What did you want to talk to us about today?’ Rhoz asked. ‘Have you had a breakthrough on our investigation?’
‘We don’t have to get into that now,’ Elizabeth said. ‘It can wait.’
‘No, no!’ Rhoz assured her. ‘I want to.’
Elizabeth grinned at her. ‘All right, then. I went through the scans Nathan sent me.’ She glanced at him. ‘Thank you by the way. And I’ve confirmed with data the possible familial relationships I thought I could see when we had all the skulls lined up.’
‘Siptah is the one who seems to be most related to our mummies?’ asked Rhoz.
‘Yes, but I still don’t have enough evidence to put any real weight in it.’
‘Oh.’
‘But then my Nainai said something that made me think…given how wordy the texts are – and the stars and crescent marks on all the scrolls from the Golden Tomb – I’m wondering if they’re some kind of code. Maybe a way for scribes to hide messages in their papyrus.’
‘Oh!’ Rhoz sounded excited.
‘Only I’m not sure how to analyse it.’
Nathan interjected: ‘Well, given the time period we’re operating in, it could be something as simple as a Caesar’s shift; or maybe we’re looking at a simple key or cipher situation…what?’
Elizabeth and Rhoz were both staring at him.
‘Security, remember?’
‘Right,’ Elizabeth said.
‘Have all the translations been made electronic?’
‘Yes, I’m pretty sure Henry’s typed everything up.’
‘And the originals?’
‘Not sure about that…’
‘It’s possible to do, though?’
‘What would you need?’
‘Each of the words…words? Syllables?’
Elizabeth nodded. ‘In hieratic mostly words, always horizontal, always right to left.’
‘So it would be possible for you to write down every word in the order it appears on the scrolls, and mark where each line begins and ends?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘And, separately, you can mark down all the extraneous symbols like the stars? How many there are and where they appear on the scroll?’
‘Yes.’
Their coffees arrived, delivered with three enormous slices of cake, cream and ice cream.
‘The manager said he hopes you’ll continue to come to the cafe,’ the waitress said. Then she bent down to whisper in Rhoz’s ear. ‘Good on you.’
Certain she would feel ill if she ate the entire serving, Elizabeth dipped her spoon into the tip of firm chocolate and took a bite. Wonderful sugar flooded her system.
‘I’d certainly like to help, if I can,’ Rhoz volunteered. ‘My hieratic’s not great, but I know enough to work out which word went where in the original.’
‘You’re certainly full of surprises,’ Elizabeth said to Nathan, wondering if he would connect the reference to her birthday party.
‘I’m determined to land a job in real library security someday,’ he said. ‘Did you know the CIA actually has active librarians?’
‘Spy librarians are a real thing?’ Rhoz asked.
‘Totally!’
‘If you tell us this now, does that mean you’ll have to kill us one day?’
‘Only if I think you can’t be trusted.’ Nathan winked at them.
‘In all seriousness, is that something you might do?’ Elizabeth asked.
‘I’m certainly thinking about it,’ he said. ‘It would mean leaving my cats behind, but otherwise I meet all the criteria. I’m single, no dependants, and a qualified librarian. Plus I’m willing and able to travel and undertake extensive physical combat training.’
‘You’d be double-oh Dewey?’ Rhoz said.
‘I’ll have exactly that on my T-shirts.’
Elizabeth only half listened as Nathan and Rhoz continued to banter. Nathan had inadvertently put her mind at rest. If he wanted an overseas job in international security, he was unlikely to be interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with her. Perhaps she had been overthinking things as usual.
Strangely, she felt a twinge of disappointment.
—
After two weeks of intensive nights on her computer, Elizabeth woke the entire household with her shrieks of delight. After laboriously entering every symbol and word in a database, with much assistance from Henry, Nathan and Rhoz, then experimenting with a multitude of Nathan’s theoretical codes and ciphers, Elizabeth finally identified what seemed like a code.
She then applied the encryption breaker to an entire Golden Tomb scroll and it translated with a distinctly different meaning from that of the original translation.
Eureka!
—
Elizabeth settled next to Taid on the settee in the suite he shared with Grandmère Maddie. Moving carefully so as not to disturb him, or knock over the walking stick that rested next to him, she reached for the cup and saucer Grandmère offered her.
‘Milk enough?’
Elizabeth took a sip. ‘Oui, merci.’
Even in the flattering glow of the room’s soft yellow lights she could see the new lines etched into her grandmother’s face, drawn the moment her husband’s heart had stopped.
‘And how goes the investigation?’
Elizabeth felt a pang at the fragility in Taid’s voice, a continual reminder of that terrible night in his library. ‘We’re very close to the answer, I think. It looks like we’ve finally found the clue we needed – there was a skip code in the papyri!’
‘Really? That’s marvellous, Beth bach.’
‘Thank you.’ Elizabeth waited for a few seconds, but he didn’t ask any follow-up questions. ‘It’s been fascinating, decoding the scrolls. We’re only partway through, but there was one I thought you might be particularly interested in.’
‘Oh?’
‘The text that Henry and I are transcribing at the moment is about a priestess of Seshet, a Great One of the House of Life, Those Who Remember. The House of Life was the library, of course, and Seshet the goddess of writing and scribes.’
Taid didn’t respond.
‘It points to a possible cult of revered female librarians in ancient Egypt, Taid.’
Still, he said nothing.
‘I thought you’d find that interesting.’
Taid’s face had paled; his hand shook as he sought to place his teacup on a side-table.
Elizabeth leant forward to take it from him. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Rhys?’ Grandmère’s voice was full of concern.
‘It’s all right, Madeleine, Elizabeth. I’m fine. In need of an early night is all, I think.’ He smiled weakly at them both. ‘Please, Beth, there’s nothing to worry about. So, have you given more thought to the position in London?’
‘Yes, I have, but I haven’t made any decisions yet.’
‘When does it start?’
‘I’d have to be in the UK by early February…’
‘Excellent, we can have Christmas together,’ said Taid.
‘But I’m not sure I’m going to say yes.’
‘Pourquoi? Why, petite?’ said Grandmère.
‘I… thi
ngs are going well here. I’m not certain I want to change that.’
‘Might this have something to do with one of the nice young men in your group?’
Elizabeth gave a short laugh. ‘Oh, Grandmère, please don’t try to play matchmaker.’
‘One of them is very handsome,’ Grandmère continued.
‘Ac mae’n gymraeg yn iawn, o’r gogledd,’ Taid said. And he’s properly Welsh, from the north.
‘Your prejudices are showing, Taid.’ Elizabeth giggled. ‘And don’t think I’ve forgotten you collaborated to trick me into believing I was going on a date with him.’
‘All in the name of giving you a wonderful birthday party, Beth.’
Elizabeth leant over and squeezed his hand. ‘And it was wonderful. Thank you again.’
‘Our pleasure.’
‘There is this one thing that I wish to say.’ Grandmère Maddie looked at Elizabeth almost sternly. ‘It is best if you observe the small ways men treat others. It tells you how they will treat you each day.’ She paused. ‘I fell in love with Rhys the moment I saw him wash the scraped knee of a boy he had caught trying to steal from him.’
The years fell away from Grandmère’s face as she smiled in recollection. Elizabeth could almost see the young Madeleine, a fiery Catholic missionary in Ethiopia, trying to convince a lad from the mountains of Wales that she truly loved him. It had taken her quite some time and effort, but in the end, she’d won her prize.
‘I’ll pay close attention, Grandmère, I promise.’
‘Excellent,’ Taid said, clearly drawing a line under that part of the conversation. ‘Now, tell us more about this skip code.’
—
Elizabeth did not approach the task of completing her tutoring duties with any enthusiasm. As she worked her way through the group assignments from her class she had been disturbed, but not surprised, by the contents of a note that was attached to one set of papers – a plea for fairness in marking. A more circumspect person would probably have anticipated this turn of events, but Elizabeth had thrown herself into the role of tutor this year with her typical mix of gusto and rose-coloured glasses, and was subsequently disappointed by the realities of human behaviour.
As she looked at the stack of papers on her desk, she knew she would not be getting an early night: she still had four group assignments to mark and the entire report for Dr Marsh to draft. She picked up her red pen, slid the top paper off the stack, and focused on the task at hand. She remained awake, burning the cinnamon-scented midnight oil, until dawn threatened to break. She finished marking the papers, then wrote up and reviewed her report until the screen blurred before her eyes. Then she typed an explanatory email to Dr Marsh, outlining her suspicions in relation to one group, and a possible response.
Hitting send, she shut down her computer. If Dr Marsh agreed to her plan, she would be able to act against the reprobates in her class with impunity, striking like Sekhmet, the avenging lion goddess of ancient Egypt.
Roar!
Chapter Eighteen
As the class settled around the square of Formica tables, Elizabeth scanned their faces. The majority of students seemed relaxed, playing with folders and laptops on their desks, chatting as they waited for her to start the session.
James and David were seated across from her, whispering and sniggering to each other as usual. Carol sat next to James, looking tense.
‘I hope everyone’s had a great week,’ Elizabeth began. The susurrus ceased. ‘Thank you for your assignments, which I’ve now marked. Your official results will be emailed to you later today, but I know some of you are eager to find out how your group went.’
A ripple of anticipation ran around the room.
‘First, all the assignments passed.’
Smiles broke out; some students exhaled exaggerated sighs of relief.
‘And, as you know, everyone in a group receives the same mark, on the basis that everyone contributed equally. Does everyone still agree to that?’
Most people around the room, including James, David and Carol, nodded.
‘So, before we go on, would anyone like to raise issue with the way the workload was shared among their group?’
A couple of hesitant hands went up. A member of one group confessed she had been absent for most of the semester, looking after an elderly relative. Another, it emerged, had been in and out of hospital with a sick child. In both cases the remainder of their groups agreed that their circumstances were understandable, and that the marks should be shared equally.
Elizabeth noted that James and David’s faces were uniformly blank during these exchanges, while Carol looked as though she was debating with herself whether to speak.
Elizabeth held up an assignment. A large ‘100%’ was handwritten across the front page in red pen.
‘Wow!’ Several students leant forward, trying to see which group the paper belonged to.
The girl on the other side of Carol poked her arm. ‘It’s yours.’
Carol’s face split into a hesitant grin; James and David gave each other a high five.
‘It’s rare for anyone to earn a hundred per cent,’ Elizabeth said, ‘but I checked with Dr Marsh and she agreed. It’s the only assignment to receive full marks among all the courses she’s run this year, so well done.’
James patted David on the back.
‘I’m sure the rest of the room is very interested to know how you put together such an excellent paper,’ Elizabeth continued.
A few enthusiastic nods across the room.
‘So, if each of you could walk us through your contribution to the assignment, starting with you, James?’
James’ shiny face was suddenly not so shiny. ‘Er…’
Elizabeth nodded encouragingly. ‘Perhaps start by telling us which aspect of the research you were responsible for.’
‘Ah, maybe it’s better if Carol starts,’ James said.
A frown flicked across Carol’s face, yet she drew breath to speak.
‘Not just yet, thank you, Carol.’
Carol closed her mouth.
‘We’ll start with you, James. Please tell us, which part of the assignment did you prepare?’
The room had grown still in response to Elizabeth’s firm, icy tone.
‘It might be easiest to start with which items you added to the bibliography.’
James’s face darkened. ‘Carol can…’
‘No, James, I’m asking you.’
James leant back and crossed his arms. ‘As you said, the whole group gets the same mark. There’s no need to go into how we put the paper together.’
From the look on his face, Elizabeth wondered if anyone had ever said, ‘No,’ to James in his life. Oh, well, first time for everything. ‘I said if everyone contributed equally, then they all deserve the same mark. So, as one third of this group, what did you contribute?’
James snapped his laptop shut and stood up. ‘I’m going to Dr Marsh to get this straightened out.’
Elizabeth was immensely glad she’d prepared for this conversation. The words she’d practised rolled from her tongue. ‘Dr Marsh is fully aware of what goes on in her tutorial sessions, James. Now, what, if anything, did you contribute to this assignment?’
James thumped back into his seat.
‘I’ll take that as a nothing.’ Elizabeth turned to David. ‘And you?’
David’s expression reminded Elizabeth of a documentary she’d once seen, of a lone lion cub gleefully chasing a gazelle right into the middle of a pack of hungry hyenas.
‘I… er…’
‘Same question, David. Precisely what did you contribute to this assignment?’
David glanced from James to Carol, the latter of whom now had quite a sparkle in her eye.
‘Can you at least tell us which cultures you compared in the assig
nment?’ Elizabeth pressed.
‘James said…’
James glanced angrily at David.
‘I mean, Carol said…uh, I didn’t read all of Carol’s emails…’
‘So, would it be fair to say this assignment is one hundred per cent Carol’s work?’ Elizabeth pushed again.
Carol nodded emphatically.
‘James? David?’
James stood up again. ‘You’ll regret this,’ he shot at Carol, who blanched. Then he turned on Elizabeth. ‘My father knows the head of this department. He’ll have you fired. You’re a terrible tutor anyway.’
In the space between two heartbeats, snatched words from the Jane Caro interview Elizabeth had seen earlier in the year echoed through her mind. ‘… women’s response to the Prime Minister’s speech was recognition, relief. But the reaction from conservative men was vicious, a backlash designed to undermine and degrade both the Prime Minister and any woman strong enough to stand up for herself…’
Elizabeth smiled broadly at James, who flung his chair against the wall so hard that it rebounded onto his legs. He staggered backwards, barely managing to disentangle himself without falling, then stalked towards the door, a waft of expensive aftershave trailing behind him. As he left he slammed the door violently…well, he attempted to slam it. Its jamb was designed to prevent exactly that, so it drifted serenely to a close in the intense silence of the room.
Elizabeth grinned at the remainder of the class, including a slumped David. Carol beamed back at her. ‘Are you all right?’ Elizabeth asked her.
Carol nodded and mouthed a silent thank-you.
‘We’ll speak after class regarding James’ threat towards you and what, if anything, you’d like to do about it.’ Elizabeth’s eyes swept the room. ‘You have a room full of witnesses and the university’s HR department at your service.’
The girl next to Carol patted her back and assured her that she’d make a witness statement. Several others murmured their support.
‘Good. And that, class, is quite a relevant object lesson to illustrate this year’s discussion of the long-term consequences of social stratification.’