I leaned over to kiss her forehead.
She softened as though that was all she needed. “We have a case to solve.” She rose and edged left along the pew.
I followed, trying to push away the feeling of futility of finding anything here, powerlessness seeped into my bones.
We strolled beneath stone columns, reminding me of the ones we’d seen back in the Mount’s secret tomb, recalling that ancient bluestone seemingly luring me back; that rare megalith safely ensconced in the lower chambers of a Cornish castle, bestowing a supernatural seduction.
The answers seemed just out of reach.
Gothic arches swept up, elegantly curving along the dimly lit corridor toward the north side of the nave. I paused to appreciate David Livingston’s tomb. His epitaph stated he was a Doctor and Missionary who’d spent much of his life exploring Africa, and I remembered him fondly as one of Victorian Britain’s most popular Heroes.
I caught up with Ingrid again.
She was riveted by Sir Isaac Newton’s tomb. The monument was grandiose, a sculptured Newton lay upon a black-marble sarcophagus, an uncanny younger version of the man elaborately carved reclining back onto his beloved books as two child angels nestled close, guarding over both him and his scientific discoveries. Above, a giant orb was decorated with heavenly bodies and upon that sat the goddess of astronomy.
Ingrid turned to me at once. “The cufflink.” Her hand slid into her pocket and she held it in her palm, studying it again.
I studied the monument. “Newton was one of the most influential men in history.”
“He was a physicist.” Ingrid placed the cufflink in my palm. “Discovered gravity when he saw an apple fall.”
I pointed to the orb. “An astronomer.”
“An alchemist?”
“That’s right.”
“We need to find out what this symbol represents.” She turned to face me. “I know this sounds crazy . . . “
“Go on.”
“What if Dominion was never even in the tomb that Sovereign watched over?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Sovereign guarded it with their lives. If members of the Stone Masters tried to move Dominion, then it wouldn’t have gone unnoticed. Men talk. Rumors circulate. And the Stone Masters never accused Sovereign of stealing him.”
I was stunned. “Why would men guard a tomb with nothing inside?”
Ingrid stared off. “Exactly.”
Two choirboys strolled toward us and we waited for them to pass.
Ingrid’s mobile vibrated in her pocket. She removed it and read the screen. “It’s my boss.” She strolled away from the nave to take the call.
The choirboys began lighting candles, diligently carrying out their duties as altar boys.
Ingrid rejoined me. “That mummy I’ve been trying to find . . . it just turned up.”
“Where?”
“Back at the museum. Placed in its original case.”
“That’s odd.”
“Forensics are on the scene.” She studied Newton’s likeness. “Was he ever a member of a secret society?”
“There were rumors, yes.”
Ingrid rubbed her forehead. “Why would Westminster Abbey be in the forethought of Alastair’s mind?”
“Maybe he was meant to meet someone here?” I asked.
“The thieves who stole the mummy led us to Sovereign.”
“And Sovereign led us here.”
“It’s all connected. But how?” Ingrid slid her phone back into her pocket. “I have to get over to the museum.” She looked thoughtful. “Very often a clue presents itself as an intuitive lead.”
“Via Harrods,” I said.
She frowned.
“I need a new shirt,” I explained and then leaned back, wondering why Ingrid was fiddling with my clerical collar.
She eased out the white dog collar and tucked it into her coat pocket. “There.”
* * * *
Escorted by the young male curator, Ingrid and I strolled down the well lit endless corridors of the British Museum’s underbelly, admiring the artifacts, stealing glimpses at some pieces that may never be viewed by the public and taking in others that had been replaced by more alluring sights.
When the curator opened the door to the examination room the scent of ammonia hit us.
Lucas Azir was already here, having agreed to meet us, and was predictably in the middle of an intense conversation with the museum’s senior scientist Dr. Amy Hanson.
Other than the row of mummified cats lined up along the back wall shelf, the laboratory was simple; decked out in chrome and well lit. Laying in the center of the room upon an examination table was our man of the hour, the newly returned mummy.
Dr. Hanson barely acknowledged us. “There are discrepancies between the dates.” She peered over her silver lenses at Lucas. “Manchester’s results attributed the bones to at least 1000 B.C. and yet the cloth was estimated at 380 A.D.”
“It was assumed to be an older shroud.” Lucas threw us a welcoming gesture.
“Radiocarbon dating has come a long way since 1979.” Hanson peeled back the thin mesh covering the mummy, and took a moment as though running through a checklist in her mind.
Lucas approached me, explaining, “We’re discussing an old case of my father’s.”
“It’s an honor to finally meet you, Professor Azir,” Hanson said. “Your father’s work was extraordinary.”
“The pleasure’s all mine.” Lucas gave a slight bow which might have seemed out of place given his age of twenty-seven, but his Egyptian heritage excused such a gentlemanly gesture.
Hanson peered over at Ingrid. “Professor Azir’s father was a renowned Egyptologist. But that’s why I imagine you invited him.”
Ingrid hid it well that she didn’t know about Lucas’s father.
Hanson glanced down at the body. “Apparently you’re not the one I should be thanking for returning our friend here.”
“He just turned up this evening?” Ingrid asked.
“The guard was doing his rounds,” Hanson said, “and reported that at 7:15 p.m. the case was empty and at 7:25 p.m. Hornub was back in it. Our guard saw nothing.”
“Your cameras might have caught something this time?” Ingrid made it a question.
Hanson sighed, frustrated. “Same camera interference, apparently.” She turned her attention back to Lucas. “Your father’s work is impressive. Big shoes to fill.” She nudged her spectacles up her nose. “Did he really only work at night?”
“The desert sun is cooler,” Lucas said. “Tourists are asleep. Only the most dedicated assistants are willing to toil during the late hours.”
I wondered if this was his tried and tested speech delivered on so many other occasions to excuse his nocturnal existence.
Lucas turned his attention on Ingrid to take it off himself. “Those are real cat mummies.”
Ingrid neared them. “Seriously. What’s with that?”
“Kittens,” said Lucas. “Around 332 B.C. cats were bred for the purpose of mummifying.”
She pulled a face. “You mean they didn’t die naturally?”
“Four month old kittens fitted into the mummy’s container better,” he said.
Ingrid’s face fell.
Hanson realized Lucas had hit a nerve. “You prefer animals to humans, Inspector?”
“It all boils down to motivation,” Ingrid said. “Humans know better. Or should.”
“I imagine you’ve seen quite a bit of death?” The doctor peeled off her latex gloves and tossed them in the bin.
Ingrid stared at her as though frozen in the memory of Alistair sitting slumped up against the tree stump, an arrow protruding from his right orb.
Ingrid quickly shook off her trance. “We both have that in common, Dr. Hanson.” Ingrid gestured toward the mummy. “From what I understand, the belief that you’d need a body in the afterlife was why they mummified their dead.”
“At first it
was merely reserved for Pharaohs,” Lucas said. “Later it became fashionable and nobility were mummified. Before long everyone wanted in on the act.”
“Did our forensics find anything?” Ingrid asked.
“They let me do the honors,” Hanson said. “I am after all his keeper.” She looked my way. “I’ve not been able to sleep since he went missing. The guilt weighed too heavily.”
“You developed a bond,” I said.
“There’s a theory that a nation can be judged on how they treat their animals. The same can be said for how we honor our dead.”
“You consider their remains sacred,” I acknowledged.
“A once living temple.” Hanson scratched her collar bone with an un-manicured fingernail. “Whoever took him had no respect. They still have his sacred scrolls.”
“His map to the afterlife?” Ingrid said, remembering what Lucas had told her.
“Shameful.” Lucas shook his head.
“But surely he’s made it to the afterlife by now?” Ingrid asked. “Maybe he doesn’t need the map anymore.”
“Please excuse her,” I said. “She doesn’t mean to be so pragmatic.”
Ingrid threw me a look.
“And what’s your background?” Hanson asked me.
“Historian,” I answered.
“Inspector, you have quite the team.” She turned to me again. “Then you’ll know the sacred scrolls placed with him at his death included incantations that would guide his soul on its perilous journey to the edge of the land of the dead.” She peered at Ingrid. “His scrolls were unique. They actually depicted a spell of resurrection back into this life.”
“Reincarnation?” Ingrid asked.
Hanson shook her head. “Eternal life.”
“You mentioned scrolls.” Ingrid asked, “There was more than one?”
“Yes,” said Hanson. “The first scroll depicted directions on how to survive immortality.”
“I never got to see that,” Ingrid said. “I missed it.”
“That was probably my fault, I’m afraid,” Hanson admitted, “There was a lot of confusion that day and I wasn’t myself.”
“May I see your copies?” Lucas asked.
“Of course.” Hanson opened up a beige folder and rifled through the papers within and handed them over to him.
Lucas held them respectfully as though studying the originals.
Hanson folded her arms and leaned back against the edge of the chrome shelf. “We’ve yet to fully interpret them.”
Lucas glanced up. “He was a hunter.”
Hanson seemed impressed. “Anything else?”
“Just his obsession with immortality,” Lucas answered, avoiding the question.
“You really believe this is Hornub?” Hanson asked, warily.
“According to the scrolls it is,” Lucas said. “He was rumored to have fractured his left ankle as a child, but made a full recovery. Anything on his X-rays?”
Hanson raised her eyebrows in surprise. “We found a hairline fracture on his left tibia.” She shook her head. “This changes everything. We’re talking of a groundbreaking finding.” She signed deeply. “Of course more tests will need to be done. To think we almost lost him.”
“I imagine those who stole him didn’t know either,” Lucas said. “Otherwise he’d never have been returned.”
Hanson’s face lit up. “Perhaps you’d consider coming on staff, Professor?”
“I’m always available for consultations,” said Lucas.
“I’ll hold you to that.” Hanson turned her focus back onto the mummy. “Even after all these centuries, Hornub—” she paused, still seemingly astonished with the possibility of it being him. “Hornub still speaks to us. Our advancement in mass spectrometry allows us to learn so much about past civilizations. The way he lived and the way he died is evidenced within his very bones.” The doctor’s face changed. “His DNA tells us two things. First, he was alive circa 100 B.C. and second, he suffered from severe anemia.”
“Impressive,” Ingrid remarked.
“His story is far from over,” Hanson said. “It seems we’re not the only ones who are interested in him on a scientific level.”
“How do you mean?” Ingrid said.
“See this puncture mark here.” Hanson pointed to his outer thigh. “Someone with expertise seems to have taken a sample. Perhaps a DNA specimen.”
“Why not just ask to see your findings?” I asked.
“That’s what we don’t understand,” she said. “Our findings are public knowledge.”
“Why not just take a hair sample?” Ingrid asked.
“Now that’s a good question,” Lucas said. “We’ll make a scientist out of you yet.”
Hanson gestured her point. “Firstly, it’s not accurate and second, he’s bald.” She lifted the veil covering Hornub’s head to show Ingrid.
Ingrid strolled around the table toward her. “Would you happen to know what this symbol represents?” She held the cufflink in her open palm and reached over the table.
Hanson frowned.
“It’s a cufflink.” Ingrid raised it higher.
“I can see that,” Hanson said. “Where did you find it?”
“Cornwall,” Ingrid said.
Hanson peered over her spectacles. “I take it you’re not going to tell me where, exactly?”
Ingrid gave a tilt of her head as a polite way of saying that no, she’d not be sharing that information with the doctor today.
Hanson glanced my way. “High levels of hydragyrum were found in Hornub’s DNA.”
“Mercury?” I clarified.
“It’s found throughout the world.” Hanson studied the cufflink. “This pictogram was Newton’s symbol for mercury. Interesting, don’t you think?”
“Why’s that?” Ingrid asked.
“After Newton died high levels of mercury were found in his body.” Hanson turned back to Hornub. “Looks like the dead know something we don’t.”
Chapter 29
TWENTY TOURISTS OR SO meandered through the museum’s Egyptian Gallery.
Lucas, Ingrid and I hovered by the gilded Cartonnage mummy mask, presented on a thin, black stand and dated: late 1st century B.C. - early 1st century A.D. The description stated the mask was a depiction of the head and chest of the princess who once wore it.
Ingrid nudged closer to me, keeping her voice low. “If it’s mercury poisoning, why stamp the symbol onto a cufflink?”
“Newton’s world was so different to the one we know today,” I said. “They had no idea such knowledge would one day be shared.”
“Accessible to everyone,” Lucas agreed.
“Do you really believe Sovereign are ingesting mercury?” she asked.
“It would explain the taste,” I said.
Lucas looked horrified.
“I spat it out,” I said.
“But high levels of mercury would harm them in the long run,” he said. “They couldn’t sustain that for long.”
I shrugged. “The ultimate sacrifice.”
Lucas looked thoughtful. “Unless they’ve found a way to alter the way they metabolize the element.”
All three of us scrutinized the sad face of the gilded mask.
“Hornub was a vampire hunter,” whispered Lucas.
“Perhaps he was taking mercury to protect himself from a vampire attack?” Ingrid suggested.
Lucas considered her words and then sidled up to me saying, “William, the scrolls we’re looking for are written by the same hand.” He gestured his explanation. “Sovereign won’t be able to interpret them either.” He checked no one else was listening. “Hieroglyphics are a phonetic language corresponding to sounds. The hieroglyphics on Hornub’s scrolls are uniquely written partly in cuneiform. They’re from Mesopotamia.”
“What does that mean?” Ingrid asked.
“They’re written in Coptic code,” he said.
“Making them even more complicated to interpret,” Ingrid realized.
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“According to Hornub’s two scrolls, there were seven in total,” he said thoughtfully.
“And Hornub was buried with two of them?” asked Ingrid.
“Yes,” Lucas said. “And it seems that Sovereign have the others.”
“Is that why they stole Hornub?” Ingrid asked. “Why not just take the scrolls?”
“Their interest lies with Hornub,” Lucas explained, “the scrolls just happened to come with him. They took everything in the presentation case.”
“Then it must be the fact he’d digested mercury,” I said.
“They’re trying to perfect the right amount,” Lucas said.
“Enough to deter vampires,” I added, “but not seriously affect the one who ingests it.”
Lucas became even more enthused. “Hornub inherited his father’s scrolls otherwise known as the Book of Thoth. Anyone who reads these are predicted to become the most powerful magician in the world.” Lucas’s eyes lit up. “The words written by the god of wisdom. ‘The secrets of the gods themselves’. When the scrolls come together they form a book. They were rumored to have been separated and buried with several mummies to protect the knowledge. They were meant to take them over to the afterlife.”
Ingrid’s quizzical expression softened. “But as the mummies were discovered so were the scrolls.”
Lucas shook his hands with excitement. “And they’re all now gathered in one place.”
“And on them is written my way back . . .” This well overdue epiphany took my breath away.
“We’re so close,” Ingrid said.
“Call Marcus,” I said to Ingrid, “tell him to test his sister and Blake for mercury poisoning.”
“It’s consistent with their symptoms,” Lucas said. “I only wish I’d seen it sooner.”
I followed the direction of where Lucas was staring.
Two male nightwalkers had entered the room and were pretending to be fixated on one the exhibits.
I took Ingrid’s hand and guided her into the next exhibit hall.
Lucas was right behind us. “Are they following?”
“Well we’ll soon see.” I glanced back. “Probably nothing. Vampires have a thing for history too.” I winked at Ingrid.
“Diplomacy is always the best way to deal with our peers,” Lucas said. “I’ve dealt with their kind before.”
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