by Mary Deal
Kendra's expression was one heightened expectation.
Clifford stepped forward. “You don't have to soften it, Sterling. We're big kids.”
Dr. Withers seemed lost for words. Finally, he said, “Masud, come over here.”
Masud acted like a little boy about to be scolded. “Yes, sir?” he said obediently.
“Masud,” Dr. Withers said, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. “I'm afraid I have some bad news for you.” He looked around the group. “Bad news for us all. The Bolis have found two bodies in the desert.” Shock rippled through the group. “They believe one man is one of the Yagos. The other is Dakarai.”
“How?” someone asked. “Why?”
“Someone in a hot air balloon spotted the bodies,” Kenneth said. “The Bolis believe they were assassinated.”
Chione looked at Masud who stood staring at nothing. His eyes bulged. “What it means?” he asked. He seemed frightened.
“We'll have to delay again,” Dr. Withers said. He shook his head and signaled. “Everybody out. Leave everything as is.”
They waited high on the hillock while Dr. Withers and Aaron went down. The two bodies were being temporarily brought back to camp. In the absence of the rest of the Yago clan, identification had to be made of the suspected Yago brother. Dakarai they knew.
“Shot in the back of the head,” Kenneth said. He stood close to Bebe who lovingly rubbed his back. Perhaps hearing of a shooting brought back painful memories for Kenneth. “I knew Dakarai was involved in something.”
“What else have you learned about this?” Clifford asked.
“Seems they were forced to kneel, then shot. Their hands were tied behind their backs.”
“No!” Chione said, feeling numb. Surely everyone felt the same. Their benign little expedition had turned treacherous at someone else's hands.
A squad of Bolis appeared on horseback plodding up the hill through the rocky terrain. Each of two horses being led carried a body thrown over its back, one wearing a blue gallibaya. The dead men's hands were still tied. People from the beggars' camp lined the road. Tourists and other spectators pressed closer, gawking and snapping pictures. Dark skinned and near naked children ran beside the horses. The hungry media got more news to sell their papers. Ginny was right down there too.
“You'd think they'd put those bodies in crates or something,” Clifford said. “The whole world doesn't need to see.”
The photographers and anyone with a camera zoomed in on the only action of the moment.
“Look at Sterling,” Clifford said. “So many problems to sort out.”
“Be thankful it hasn't happened to one of us,” Kenneth said.
“Yeah,” Chione said. “Our grave robbing is legal.”
Kendra and Royce passed below, both gesturing frantically, evidently arguing. Royce joined the group meeting the horses and Kendra headed toward the shacks.
“Kendra!” Chione said through cupped hands.
She looked up the hill, took a couple steps, stopped to wipe her eyes and then headed up toward them.
Kenneth suddenly said, “I want some pictures of Royce. Cold blue eyes can't hide all lies.” He took off down the hill before Bebe could stop him.
Kenneth arrived as the horses halted. Masud gestured to one body, presumably Dakarai's, and then nodded. Royce walked over and half squatted, changed position and bent down again, trying to view the man's face. Then he straightened and also nodded and said something. From his position next to Ginny, Kenneth made it look like he was merely filming the entire event. Ginny would capture what they needed to record. Kenneth was focused on Royce.
Kendra arrived. Her eyes were red. “Damned husband of mine,” she said.
“What happened?” Bebe asked.
Kendra sighed heavily. “You may as well know. My husband doesn't come back to camp till late at night, if at all.” She gestured toward their shacks.
“Where does he go?”
“I'm sure he's with the Yago woman.”
“You don't know,” Clifford said.
“Where else would he be and knowing what he now knows?”
“Which is?”
“He heard from some of the Bolis that the Yagos might have been kidnapped. All of them.”
“Wha-at?” Clifford asked. “Why?”
“The Bolis claim Dakarai, through his connections, led the Yagos to treasure found in the desert. They make off with as much as they can and Dakarai gets a cut. Wealthy patrons get black-market artifacts as Dakarai maintains his contacts and credibility at the Madu.”
“How is it the Bolis happened to tell your husband that much?” Clifford asked. “Why Royce?”
“Maybe because he showed concern the Yagos,” Kendra said. “Instead of himself.”
Clifford pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Kendra. “Why would they be kidnapped?”
“The Bolis think they discovered the other tomb before we discovered Tauret's,” Kendra said. “Whoever plundered that tomb stopped when we arrived, or worked at night.”
“They must be the ones who stole our crates of toys,” Bebe said. “As if they didn't have enough.”
“So why were you crying?” Chione asked. Certainly Kendra had watched Royce perform his choreographed dance alongside the Yagos. By now she should be past the point of tears.
“Royce is leaving. He's going to help the Bolis find the Yagos. He's involved with Elbertina, I know he is. He goes off on his own when we're in Egypt. She's the reason.”
“He's going away with the Bolis?” Clifford asked.
“No, he probably knows where to look for her. He'll go on his own.” She began to cry again. “He said not to expect him back.”
Clifford put an arm around her and let her sob. “These things are never easy. Royce will be back.”
“No,” Kendra said. “He feels responsible for Elbertina and her family and said not to expect to see him again till everything is set right. He's packing his things and leaving.”
Bebe shook her head and looked doubtful.
“Elbertina's devastated, I'm sure. She was probably forced to watch her brother being shot,” Clifford said. Kendra stepped away from him and he waved a hand signaling she should keep his handkerchief. “Why don't you try to go with your husband? Maybe you should stay beside Royce through this.”
“I don't want to, Clifford. You haven't heard it all,” she said, sniffling. “Royce was with the Yagos in Cairo, came back with them bearing gifts of bribery. My dashing husband has been my beloved infidel all along.”
“I'm sorry to hear that,” Clifford said.
“About five years ago, some Spanish dignitaries arrived in San Francisco,” Kendra said, as if needing to confess. “Royce was conveniently away on a business trip all that time. I'm certain he already knew the Yagos. There were other times here in Egypt and other places we've visited. It's taken me a long time to face it. I even found his old computer, the one he said was stolen.”
“I saw the computer,” Chione said. “Isn't that new?”
“No.”
“Aren't you carrying this a bit far?” Clifford asked kindly.
“No, that's the same laptop. It's been cleaned to look new,” she said. “When he first bought it, I accidentally closed a pen inside and made a tiny chip on the back edge.” She blew her nose. “I never told him. Mr. Perfect would never forgive me. The laptop he brought back to camp has a nick in the same place.”
“Are you saying he faked the missing laptop just to go to Cairo?” Bebe asked. “Or he must have gotten the laptop back from the thieves somehow.”
“That's right,” Kendra said. “It proves he's on friendly terms with whoever took it.”
“The desert does change a person's life,” Bebe said.
Chione was surprised to hear a statement like that from Bebe. Like everyone else, Bebe dealt with her own nemesis.
“Hey, look,” Clifford said. “Sterling's motioning everyone to the mess hall.”
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Guards were posted outside and told to keep others some distance away, especially the media. Inside, Dr. Withers expression was grave. “Let's put our learned heads together again.”
Kendra related everything she knew.
“Agrees with what the Bolis told me,” Dr. Withers said.
“Would seem tied to the killings of Dakarai's cousin, Usi, and his bunk mate too,” Clifford said.
“Understand, Kendra,” Dr. Withers said. “Your husband's affiliation with the Yagos—especially knowing they wanted to pick up artifacts from our endeavor—increases the likelihood Royce knew what they were up to.”
“I can't believe my husband would stoop so low.” She began to whimper again. “He's got lots of money.” She sighed. “But maybe black marketing artifacts is how he gets it.”
The Bolis suspected Elbertina and the brothers were kidnapped because they failed their mission, which was robbing the tomb under the necropolis. Had they been successful in taking over the CIA's venture, their patrons would reap some huge rewards.
“The Yagos must have embarrassed a lot of people,” Bebe said. “But why kill them?”
“To make them pay,” Clifford said. “That's why they were kidnapped. Could get a hell of a ransom from the wealthy Yago clan. Save a lot of face.”
Kendra looked numb and stared straight ahead.
“Evidently one brother was expendable,” Dr. Withers said.
“Rogelio, the younger one,” Aaron said.
“Now I'm going to say something.” Dr. Withers shot a finger into the air. “And I don't want any contradictions.” They waited. “Kendra, if your husband's involved, you might be at risk here.”
“No way.”
“Let me finish. If Royce is involved—that's if—if someone wanted to get at him, they could do it through you.”
“Are you saying because they killed one Yago brother, my life's now at risk?”
“One Yago?” Clifford asked. “One Yago and three Egyptians.”
Chione felt Kendra reach for her hand under the table.
“Everything depends on Royce's involvement,” Dr. Withers said. “He's going out and stirring things up, making himself look dirty.”
“That's my point,” Kendra said. “His place is here with me, not chasing after Elbertina.”
“You sure?” Bebe asked. “Why else would he?” The point was well taken.
“Fact is,” Dr. Withers said, “I'm putting guards on duty around our sleeping quarters at night.”
“That's ridiculous,” Kendra said. If anything irritated her more, it was having restrictions placed upon her.
“No, it's not. We've had four murders here, people. The Egyptian police will have someone on duty covering both the front and back doors and I'll hear nothing more about it.”
“But, Dr. Withers—”
“That's all folks,” Dr. Withers said. “And Kendra? I suggest you keep the lid on your Queen Nefertiti perfume so your cubicle is less conspicuous.”
After a quick snack, and heading toward the portcullis shaft to resume work, Chione looked up the hillock to see Dr. Withers arrive first. He looked out toward the necropolis and danced his little dance of excitation with fists clenched at his sides, happily bouncing up and down.
“He seems determined not to allow the murders to discourage him,” Aaron said.
“He's not even bothered by this smothering heat,” Bebe said, taking a sip of Karkade from her hip flask.
“Was supposed to be cooling down this time of year,” Clifford said. “Moving into the best season.”
“Why do you suppose it's different this year?” Kendra asked.
“Don't say we've been cursed,” a voice said, coming up behind. They laughed as Randy joined them.
Inside, Dr. Withers donned goggles and his facemask and held the circular saw waiting for Quaashie. Once the rest of the imprints and mud plaster had been removed and carried away, Dr. Withers announced, “I don't understand why the entire wall needed to be opened just to get a sarcophagus through. We'll remove a couple of the center columns of blocks first, see what's beyond.”
Terji and Finn arrived, having responded to a fax. The team was fairly certain of entering the Burial Chamber.
The top two blocks were removed with workers yet unable to get a good look inside the next chamber. The curious odor that oozed from that room seemed much akin to the smell that billowed from the mummy room when Randy was rescued.
Dr. Withers could wait no longer. Again, he climbed a ladder and stuck his flashlight and head as far into the darkness as possible. First he gagged and coughed. His exclamations echoed from the next chamber. He stretched farther inside, casting his light about. He kicked at the wall blocks as he struggled to hoist himself farther into the opening.
Clifford flashed one of his ridiculous grins. “Sterling,” he said, calling out loud enough to be heard in the next chamber. “Access would be less arduous if you'll allow the blocks to be removed.”
Dr. Withers pulled himself out of the opening and half turned the ladder, then blew out a breath. He choked and fanned himself.
“Good or bad?” Clifford asked.
“A little of both.”
“Oh, no,” Chione said. “Tell us the chamber hasn't been breached.”
“Nothing like that.”
He was off the ladder now, holding his flashlight in one hand and motioning with the other, unable to speak. He went to sit on one of the removed blocks. “If I keep getting these kinds of shocks,” he said, patting his chest firmly, “I'll need my own sarcophagus.”
“That doesn't sound good,” Bebe said.
Dr. Withers sighed heavily. “It's good and it's bad.”
“So, what did you see?” Bebe asked impatiently.
“A strange but beautiful sarcophagus,” he said as he fanned fresher air against his face. “Golden statues… and two bodies.”
42
Terji and Finn tried desperately to understand the mixed rush of exclamations as everyone in the chamber spoke at once.
“Why would that be strange?” Chione asked. No one heard.
Dr. Withers called for attention. “Here's what I'm going to do. Rashad and Aaron are going to stay inside here with me and the cameras. The rest of you will leave until the blocks are removed.” Everyone protested. They wanted to be in on the expose'. “Because of the exposed bodies,” Dr. Withers said. “We're going to be hanging a shield to keep the dust off everything inside. You won't see anything anyway.”
An air of impatience permeated the Pillared Hall. Voices and equipment noises echoed out, distorted. Lighting and shadows flickered. Perfume wafted up from below. Chione breathed in deeply, all the while watching to see if any others had detected it.
“It's taking forever,” Bebe said as they watched another huge block of granite being drawn up the incline.
Then no more blocks came out. According to the way reflections moved about in the Offering Chamber, the lighting equipment was being repositioned into the Burial Chamber.
It was difficult to decipher the overall mood of the workers. One person down there laughed. Another spat out an Egyptian oath. The rest just talked, excited and loud, while Dr. Withers tried to maintain some order. Aaron came to the incline and motioning for the doctors to go down. The photographers exited.
It took another twenty minutes before Aaron motioned for the rest of the team. “Face masks and gloves,” he said.
Chione caught the look in his eyes as his brows pinched together. An uneasy feeling crept over her.
Bebe and Kendra eagerly went first and stopped abruptly at the doorway. Tall Clifford squeezed through, creating a gap through which Chione saw the tilted beams of a black stone pyramid, the middle of the massive black sarcophagus, and the torso of a withered body lying on top. Dr. Withers's hand pointed downward to an area into which gangly Clifford nearly stepped. Clifford turned and bolted from the Chamber, white as a ghost. Another shriveled body sat on the floor slumped against
the sarcophagus just inside the doorway. Chione pushed the others into the room as Dr. Withers followed Clifford out. Foul air moved with them and forced Chione to hesitate outside the doorway because she felt nauseous.
“I had one of those déjà vu experiences,” Clifford said. “When I saw the body on the floor, I felt I was the one sealed up in there. The oxygen was depleted. All I could do was sit down and wait to die.” Even now, he struggled to breathe. “I must have tapped into a moment of that guy's life.”
Dr. Withers and Clifford spoke a while longer as Clifford relaxed. Chione did not need to hear any more to understand. She turned her attention back inside the room. The golden goddesses standing at the corners of the sarcophagus waited.
“Aw, Ga-wd!” Terji said, crowding in behind her.
Chione saw the full view of the female on top of the sarcophagus. The vision she saw while standing in the Offering Chamber of the bereaved woman offering garlands repeated. The woman in her vision and the shriveled body on the sarcophagus were one and the same.
Randy gasped so loud it caught the attention of everyone. Ignoring the golden goddesses, and being careful not to step on anything that might lie on the floor, he walked around the sarcophagus conspicuously examining the woman's body.
Dr. Withers and Clifford re-entered the Chamber.
“So what is it, Randy?” Dr. Withers asked.
Randy looked up and said, “Forgive me, Clifford, for what I'm about to say.” He quickly glanced at everyone. “I don't want any of you thinking I'm making a joke of Clifford or Rita, okay?”
“Let's have it,” Clifford said, not quite recuperated but trying to carry on.
“Look here,” Randy said. “See the way her one leg's bent up? See her crossed arms? Her hands are turned backwards and she had been holding a child's rattle.” The toy lay loose on the woman's shriveled chest. Her hands, like the rest of her body, had dehydrated and shrunk and released her grip on the toy. Randy spoke and gestured professionally like a physician lecturing a class. “Now look at her face.” The woman's mouth hung agape, held in place by taut, dehydrated skin.