Agatha & the Scarlet Scarab

by Karl Fish

  Gideon did not rise to her bait, or talk anymore on the subject. He simply handed the bottle over, brushing Belle’s hands as he did so. He so desperately wanted to explain everything but he trusted no one. If as she had claimed, Wink knew who he was, she was goading him into revealing more then he would wish to and perhaps she knew more than she was letting on.

  Belle briefly turned, smiling at Nathaniel. There was at least hope for her father now. Glancing at Gideon her facial expression turned from happily surprised to disconcertingly confused at the ambiguity of his reappearance. Even her father had confirmed he had died over a decade ago. She had even been at his funeral.

  Dawn was breaking. The newcomers had not spotted the intricate paper jigsaws that were stuck to the glass waiting for the first rays of morning. Noone made no immediate efforts to direct their sight there. To the contrary he decided to conceal them for the time being. He would share the intricacies, should he believe them of benefit, on Belle’s return. Instead, he drew the blinds for optimum darkness once more and pulled out the torches with the violet beam poised to go.

  ‘I’m not sure how much information Thompson has informed you of, ma’am,’ Noone began.

  Pulling out the photograph that he had now memorised he placed it in front of them and lit up the violet hues that formed the masks and totems on top of the owners’ faces.

  ‘I assume you now know what these symbols mean, Noone?’ Thompson asked.

  ‘Belle was able to help clarify some for me,’ he said, switching over to the normal torch.

  ‘Draper’s symbol is Anubis, god of the afterlife, but its forward-facing nature suggests a victim opposed to a helper or follower,’ he explained.

  ‘Well, thank God for that.’ Wink sighed. ‘Really wouldn’t want one of my men to be the lord of darkness or whoever he is.’

  ‘Any thoughts, Professor?’ Noone asked his friend, continuing the pretence that they did not know each other. Gideon was transfixed on the woman in the tiger-skin coat.

  ‘Who is she?’ he asked with a pointed finger pressed down on her face.

  ‘We’re not sure. Belle remembers her here at the Museum, the night before Monty was taken ill.’

  ‘What?’ Gideon exclaimed. ‘This photo was taken here, the night before his stroke?’

  ‘That’s right. Some fundraiser for injured veterans,’ Noone confirmed.

  Wink glanced at Thompson and clicked her fingers, to which he produced the card he had shown her in her office.

  Noone grabbed it first before eagerly flashing it towards Gideon.

  ‘Official–Society–Improvement-Rehabilitation-Injured-Serviceman!’ Gideon shouted out slamming a fist on to the desk ‘Bloody OSIRIS. How can no one see how this is all connected.’ He was so angry his usual calm demeanour was fractured for the first time.

  ‘You need to take a deep breath, Professor. No one understands what is going on here,’ Noone encouraged him, shaking his head subtly from side to side to suggest he stops speaking now. They couldn’t be sure who was friend or foe. Wink’s obvious optical disability did not detract from her continued observation of the pair.

  ‘Wait, Professor Belchambers, you need to slow down. You may wish to explain what you were doing there in the first place,’ Wink advised.

  Gideon paused and took a deep breath. Noone was right, no one could be sure who was friend or foe. It was almost as if Wink herself knew more than she was letting on and was subtly encouraging them to divulge everything for her benefit. She continued, taking a deep breath and moving centre stage.

  ‘May I suggest to all that we take this a step at a time. Something is connecting all of these elements together. I feel each of us has a varying agenda but ultimately, we’re on the same side. Agreed?’ said Wink.

  Several nods greeted her serious single-eyed stare. She moved over the room to switch on the dimly lit bulb of Monty’s office.

  ‘Very well, I will go first,’ She continued, moving towards a blackboard that was covered in years of Monty’s scrawls. It was a confusing jumble of information, representative of the man himself. She grabbed the discarded scarf from the pile of coats that had concealed the papers in the bin and rubbed the chalk into smudged circular patterns, like clouds.

  ‘My immediate concern is for Draper.’ She spoke like an authoritative grammar school teacher and wrote his name in a large chalk bubble in the centre of the board, punctuating the stop at the end of his name. ‘Such a senior member of The Department being kidnapped should ring alarm bells throughout Whitehall. The information that passes through his team is paramount to intercepting and defeating the Reich. He is a large cog in an even bigger wheel. So, I, for one, would like to look at that photograph again. But under the normal light first. Not the pink light or whatever you are calling it.’

  Nathaniel Noone passed her the photograph.

  She examined it intently with her good eye. Holding it just an inch from her nose. ‘This man, here,’ she said to the room. ‘Is Colonel Malling. He actually reports to me. So, what does the pink drawing on his head say about him.’

  Noone switched torches and lit up the image so that the faintly visible head of a bird of prey appeared sideways on top of Malling’s head.

  ‘Horus!’ Gideon said without question.

  Wink squinted at him as if insult and answer were being thrown at her in one word.

  ‘I agree,’ came Belle’s voice on re-entering the room. ‘Its sideways presence suggests the deity as opposed to the follower or victim of such a god, opposite to that of the one of Anubis we just saw. The one on your colleague, Draper.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Gideon confirmed. ‘This is the deity. The suggestion we can take from this is that Colonel Malling is very high up in the food chain, whatever it is.’

  ‘And we do not know what “it” is,’ Thompson interrupted.

  ‘This woman, the one central in the photograph. I found a tiger-skin coat and blonde wig matching this picture in the Natural History Museum,’ alerted Gideon. ‘Definitely in disguise.’

  ‘If we look at this literally,’ Belle continued before Gideon could speak anymore. ‘OSIRIS is usually considered the parent of the deity Horus. OSIRIS represents the afterlife, the underworld; it could mean transition, regeneration, or resurrection.’

  ‘Or rehabilitation maybe? That makes perfect sense if they are aiding injured servicemen. Most of them burn victims or having suffered the loss of limbs, or certainly all three,’ Thompson piped up.

  ‘And what about Draper, a servant in the afterlife as his totem suggests?’ Noone added. ‘I doubt anyone kidnaps a senior civil servant during a war to help with raising awareness for injured servicemen. I would question whether this is a legitimate organisation at all,’ Noone said beginning to become angry with Thompson.

  Wink was trying to make sense of it all, scribbling the names onto the board with a flow of chalk arrows between them all.

  ‘Your thoughts, Belchambers?’ Wink asked. ‘And please stop the pretence yourself and Mr Noone are not known to each other. I do know your history.’

  ‘Show me the tiger-lady under the other light, Nate. The violet light,’ Gideon said, smiling at Wink Waverley.

  Nathaniel hovered the faint torch beam to reveal her duality in the various lights.

  ‘Look at her markings. They are quite rare. Nothing you’re likely to see as a main deity. They’re not serpentine but they are similar. Belle, what do you think?’

  ‘You mean some sort of secondary level god, a consort, or such like?’ Belle answered, searching for the name she had been trying to think of since first casting eyes on the photo.

  ‘Exactly!’ Gideon exclaimed.

  ‘Oh no. No, no, no, no, no,’ Belle began to berate herself.

  ‘Belle? What is it?’ Noone asked, grabbing her shoulders.

  ‘The woman’s name. I recall it now. Sabine! How could I have been so dumb?’ She continued to explain to an on looking and increasingly confused collective. ‘No wonder Dad
found it so amusing. That was her name. The woman in the photograph. Sabine Erket. S-ERKET!’

  ‘I’m lost.’ Thompson sighed.

  ‘Me too,’ Wink agreed, standing back to review the board.

  ‘OK, Belle,’ Gideon reassured her. ‘You couldn’t have known. But your dad saw through their plan, whatever it was. Waverley, write SERKET on the board,’ he instructed with authority. ‘She definitely links Draper and OSIRIS. She’s most likely the poisoner of Monty and the concierge. Serket, for the less well informed, is the Scorpion Queen.’

  ‘So, she may have poisoned Professor Soames senior and Thompson’s man, this Scorpion Queen. If she is who we are believing her to be,’ Wink suggested, standing up and back on point. ‘Belchambers, you advised that the tiger-skin coat, one just like that in the picture, and wig you found at the Natural History, were coincidentally in the same place you happened to stumble upon the anti-venom.’

  Wink’s manner twisted the concept that Gideon’s presence was anything but innocent. She scribbled his name on the board to the side of Serket. Thompson was already sceptical. Belle was certainly amazed at his reappearance after all this time. Nathaniel Noone, on the other hand, was doing his utmost to keep Gideon’s secrets.

  ‘If we take a leap of faith, and I believe this is not too great a leap, could it be that this woman is also the elusive Jennifer James you seek?’ Wink asked.

  ‘Likely, I would. Just thinking the same thing.’ Thompson replied. ‘Tall, languid appearance, but a black bobbed haircut, not long, blonde locks.’

  Wink scribbled Jennifer James/Serket on the board.

  ‘So, we may have a few leads now, people. But what exactly is their purpose?’ the senior female spymaster asked.

  Noone flashed a look at Gideon. Whatever brought all of this together one thing was for certain. Wink’s priority was Draper. Their priority was Agatha.

  ‘Miss Soames, you mentioned that your father believed something was awry. Perhaps, giving his history, he understood what this OSIRIS may represent. Care to share any thoughts?’ said Wink.

  ‘Well, I knew something was up when Father sent me on a false errand that day. He was agitated. He was excluding me from meeting this OSIRIS organisation and couldn’t wait to get shot of me. Then he handed me an unaddressed letter, a blank envelope and expressly informed me to deliver it in person and not divulge the address to anyone. I memorised it and he made me repeat it back to him.’

  ‘Where to?’ Wink asked.

  ‘Marylebone,’ Belle advised

  Gideon’s head sank into his hands. He wanted to scream out loud but still couldn’t trust anyone apart from Noone.

  ‘I still don’t understand,’ Thompson piped up again.

  ‘Continue the story, Belle,’ Gideon encouraged her.

  ‘I delivered the letter, as Father advised. Once the elderly lady understood who I was she invited me in for refreshments with herself and her great-niece. She seemed agitated but was very generous. Her niece, Agatha – I think, wanted me to stay but I had to get back. Then, when I returned in the evening Dad was more agitated than ever. It was like he had seen a ghost.’ Belle flashed a look towards Gideon. ‘He was furious at the use of the Museum and had stubbornly locked himself away in this very room. The next time I saw him, well he was …’ Belle began to well up again.

  Noone comforted her.

  Gideon looked on in shock. ‘Oh Monty,’ Gideon thought to himself. ‘You must have been desperate. What have you done?’

  ‘OK. So, for continuity, let’s assume “tiger-lady” is both SERKET and James. She has kidnapped one of my main men, left two men close to death, but also masquerades as a charitable host. It doesn’t add up,’ Wink summarised.

  ‘It doesn’t add up if you believe the OSIRIS link is legitimate,’ Gideon responded curtly. ‘If she is using this organisation as a front, then, we must ask for what purpose?’ he continued. ‘The Egyptian links are more pertinent to myself, Nathaniel and Monty than this current war. The pseudonyms, the acronyms – why would they be used?’

  ‘Misdirection maybe, Professor?’ Wink responded.

  It was no misdirection, Gideon and Noone both thought to themselves. Someone had recently tried to capture Florrie and Aggie. Whatever the underlying rationale, it harked back to the tragedies of Egypt, fourteen years ago.

  ‘So, if that is the case, then we must assume they are working with the Germans. So again, we must ask ourselves, to what purpose?’ Gideon replied.

  ‘I’m not sure. There are a lot of ifs and buts in our theory. And we haven’t even started on why you were even at the Natural History in the first place, Professor … ’ Wink continued, plotting her own course of investigation.

  Gideon felt uneasy the more Wink probed yet restrained himself from impertinent responses. If she did know about him, she knew about Cairo.

  ‘But in the meantime, Professor Belchambers and Mr Noone, there is a man in this photograph that we can question for more information,’ Wink advised. ‘Thompson, ready my car,’ she ordered. ‘We are taking a trip to the Malling residence. Bring your men too. We may need them.’

  Thompson’s eyes rolled. Malling was a force to be reckoned with and an early morning alarm call would not be welcomed.

  ‘Before I go, is there anything else you would care to share?’ Wink asked.

  Noone shook his head, Gideon shook his too, but the naïve Belle Soames jumped up eager to please.

  ‘Nate, we forgot.’ She smiled.

  Noone winced as he knew what was coming next.

  ‘Mrs Waverley – on these papers, written in nothing more than my father’s hand and lemon juice are lists of names. They are difficult to read in this light but he wanted us to find them. Perhaps they may shed some light, forgive the pun, on OSIRIS or the night of my father’s accident.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Soames,’ Wink acknowledged. ‘Slipped your mind who you are working for, Noone?’ she then said, casting a penetrative stare at Noone. ‘May I suggest we reconvene in Whitehall in twenty-four hours. Whatever secrets you gentlemen are keeping, whatever paths you are following, they must be divulged to me by then. Is that clear?’ Wink ordered in a calm authority.

  Gideon and Noone offered up the pretence of a lack of understanding as Wink began to leave, escorted by Thompson.

  ‘May I?’ she gestured towards the photograph in Nathaniel’s hand. He was reluctant to hand it over. A subtle nod from Gideon encouraged him to do so. ‘And the violet torch, Mr Noone, if you would be so kind.’ Again Gideon’s subtle agreement ensured Nathaniel passed them over. Wink Waverley’s footsteps soon disappeared through the echoes of the British Museum.

  ‘You’re lucky she didn’t probe you more about the Natural History,’ Noone advised.

  ‘Where do you think she’s going now?’ Gideon smiled. ‘And we’re lucky,’ he replied, emphasising the ‘we’re’, ‘That I have these additional torches provided by Ilya.’

  ‘She’s not going to Colonel Malling’s’?’ Belle questioned. ‘And who is Ilya?’

  ‘Dearest Belle, never trust a spy. Particularly one so high up the tree. They don’t get there by chance. She will be going to Malling’s’ for certain, however, she’ll be confirming my recent visit to the Natural History first,’ Gideon advised her.

  ‘I gave up on spies a long time ago,’ she responded, glaring at them both, but lingering a disappointed stare at Noone. ‘And Ilya. Who is Ilya?’

  ‘We, actually, I, owe you more than an explanation, Belle, more than an apology as your father will testify to. He will be OK, by the way. But for now, allow me to explain,’ Gideon said. He pulled up a chair and took her back to the very beginning. Over a decade’s worth of deceit ago. He was finally beginning to allow the weight off of his shoulders. Whatever OSIRIS was, whoever SERKET may be, he was sure the endgame was approaching, sooner than he had thought.

  The beams of daylight were growing stronger and fractured sunshine splintered the blinds in Monty’s office. Very soon
the glyphs would reveal themselves to them all.

  Chapter 35

  The Marshes

  ‘Good Morning, Professor,’ Brian Louds announced from behind his ever-present surgical mask. ‘Is your bed not comfortable as you seem to prefer your workbench?’

  Meredith Malcolm slowly awoke with one eye open. The minimal amount of a single G&T to such a man of abstinence had left a hammer blow of a hangover. As always, he started his day by fumbling for the spectacles upon his head. His head was sore and aching.

  ‘So today is the big day. The big reveal,’ Louds said with a sweeping gesture towards the scrolls.

  ‘Very true,’ Malcolm acknowledged stretching and painfully making his way over to his recent works.

  ‘It is early, Professor. The sun is yet to rise properly. I shall return within the hour for your presentation. Just wanted to ensure you were awake.’

  Professor Malcolm, not looking particularly meticulous that morning, it has to be said, gazed upon the muslin-covered cloudy crystal that encased the revelatory Scarabidae. In daylight, there was no evidence of its ethereal glow. He glanced at the insect enclosures and there was no evidence they were behaving extraordinarily either. The iridescent purple and black depth of the dung beetles was as expected. There were no emissions of light. For the time being, this little secret would remain masked by the daylight.

  ‘Of course, Mr Louds. I will be focusing my full attention on it,’ Professor Malcolm confirmed.

  ‘Very good. Now, enjoy breakfast,’ Louds confirmed, clapping for the orderlies to enter. ‘I hope you do not mind but honey will not be on the menu today. We cannot afford any more mishaps with the scrolls.’

  The professor laughed in acknowledgement. As the orderlies placed the tea and toast down in front of him, they removed the G&T remains from the previous evening. He had been mindful to ensure that the wedge of lemon was obviously present to them and the observant Mr Louds. The tiny slither of zest he required he had temporarily wedged under his tongue.