Secret Passages

by R D Hathaway

  Several, slow minutes allowed them to awkwardly open their food tins and find places to sit at a small, rectangular table in positions not too close to one another yet not too distant.

  “Miss Shefford, since we will be working nearby one another, and since I am new to England, feel free to advise me if or when you think of any suggestions that might be helpful. I will appreciate it.”

  “Of course, Professor. How long will you be with us?”

  “Only a few months. I must be back in Iowa for the fall semester by mid-August. I’m sure my time here will fly by too quickly. Here it is, only half a day, and I already feel as though I am in the midst of treasure and I’m wasting my time. And, this city! This is such a place of great history. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

  Matthias got up to get a drink. Priscilla delicately nibbled on crackers and a small piece of cheese. Matthias nervously rearranged the remains in his food tin.

  “Miss Shefford, I hope that you might tell me something about yourself sometime; nothing personal, of course, but just to be acquainted. I hope that would be agreeable with you.”

  Without looking up, she said, “I’m certain Professor, we will become acquainted over the next few months. Tell me about Iowa.”

  A grin came to his face as his shoulders rose. “You would be amazed with how green it is there. That part of America is considered the heart of the agriculture industry for the country. We have vast fields of corn, and there are cattle and hogs on every farm; and, the people are good.”

  Matthias looked into the distance and closed his eyes just a little. “It is what one might call good living, simple living. It’s a place to build a life.”

  He stopped and looked away. After a moment, he quickly packed up his food tin and stood up. “Well then, I had better move on. There is much to do.”

  ***

  Priscilla tilted her head and observed Matthias march out of the room. She stopped eating and listened to his footsteps cross the hall. She sensed he carried something that he needed to hide.

  When she returned to the work room, he was holding and examining one of the golden boxes from the racks. It made a heavy noise when he set it down. He moved down the aisle, picking each one up and turning them for a quick but total review. After twenty minutes, he returned to his desk. He looked commanding instead of warm.

  “Professor, would this time be convenient to review our processes?”

  He agreed, and for the next hour and a half, she reviewed in detail the process for inventorying all new relics for the collection. She found for him a new copy of the Field Notes Manual of The British Museum so he would have a better idea of what happens at a dig site. She mentioned the names of other staff persons with whom he might interact when they have newly received antiquities that are received, stored or shipped to another facility.

  He made simple and precise notes of her descriptions, asked clarifying questions, and occasionally asked her opinion on certain processes. She had no opinions on how the work was being done.

  She noticed when Warrington entered the room. He stopped and discreetly observed them. Matthias was slouched in his chair but looked at her in a way that was suddenly uncomfortable.

  Warrington approached and was nearly at their desks when Matthias turned to see him. “Ah, Mr. Warrington,” Matthias said as he got up, “Miss Shefford has been explaining your systems here. I’m looking forward to moving ahead with this. Would it be possible to see the storage areas in the lower level?”

  Warrington was unresponsive. Finally, he said “follow me.”

  ***

  Warrington noticed a new energy and confidence in Professor Justus. Matthias whistled as he looked with more delight than awe at the display items they passed by. Even in the elevator, Matthias looked relaxed and in control, nodding at Warrington when their eyes met.

  The lower level storage area had a lower ceiling and less light than the upper floors. It appeared to be more of a warehouse and had the musty smell of one. Warrington gestured to the right as they exited the elevator.

  “Over here, Professor, is the section that holds newly received items from the recent excavation of Dr. Carter. Down there, are the inventoried items organized according to the status Miss Shefford has described.”

  Warrington strolled down the aisle. “Over in that corner is the freight elevator for the Egyptian section and there is another on the left side of the building, over there. That serves more general collections. When the deliveries from Dr. Carter have concluded, both lifts will serve the convenience of all the collections.”

  Warrington turned down another aisle and proceeded with his descriptions of various sections of the storage area.

  “Ah, here is a section you might like Professor.”

  Warrington offered a slight smile. “These are the recently documented finds from Egypt, from the site called ‘Oxyrhynchus.’ Have you heard of it?”

  Matthias looked confused. “The name is not familiar. It’s a Greek name. I assume Hellenistic Egypt, referring to a nose?”

  Warrington displayed a satisfied grin. His chin raised a little. “We’ve had people working there for nearly twenty years. The site is a series of what we might call garbage mounds from the first century. Most of the findings are papyrus, and quite a bit of it. Flinders Petrie is there right now. It has taken a back seat, of course, to Dr. Carter’s find of the Tutankhamun treasures. Gold easily outranks paper.”

  “Well, I guess it depends what was written on the paper,” Matthias quickly added.

  Something small and black swiftly crossed their path, nearly touching their shoes. Matthias jumped and looked down the aisle where it went.

  “That, Professor, is the ‘collections cat,’ as we call him. No one is certain how he came to be here, but he doesn’t cause any trouble and might help in case any pests may appear. I don’t particularly like cats or pets myself, but he seems to be worthwhile.”

  Matthias crouched down, looking into the shadows. “Does he have a name?”

  “Yes, someone named him Tobias Luxor, I imagine because he seems disposed to remain with the Egyptian storage items.”

  Matthias’ eyes sparkled. He went to a storage shelf on which there lay rolls of papyrus and various personal effects such as combs, simple jewelry items and containers.

  “All this came from Oxy, what Oxyrhynchus? Fascinating.”

  He lifted one of the scrolls, then laid it back in its position. He continued down the aisle, occasionally leaning forward to see one of the items more closely. “Mr. Warrington, may I come and examine these? Have they been given any scholarly inspection?”

  “Professor, most of what we have here is for preservation and, in a few cases, display. If something stands out, it is given proper consideration for professional review. There is simply too much to read and analyze in depth.”

  Matthias seemed unable to contain his astonishment. “I would certainly like to read whatever might be available here.”

  “You may, on your own time, of course.”

  Warrington stopped. Anger bubbled within him. “But nothing must be displaced, Professor.”

  “No, of course not.”

  Matthias gestured toward two nearby study desks. “Perhaps, I could use one of those when I have a moment.”

  “Yes, when you have your moment.”

  Warrington turned and continued the tour, satisfied with his leadership.

  ***

  When he and Warrington returned to the second floor, Matthias noticed that Miss Shefford was standing halfway down one of the rows of storage racks, speaking with a museum worker who was moving collection items from a large cart onto the shelves. He didn’t say much but she was relaxed and giggling. Occasionally, her fingers touched his shirt as she gestured.

  The moment she saw the two men enter the room, her expression became serious and s
he returned to her desk.

  Matthias shook hands with Warrington. “Thank you. The visit to the lower level was a delightful addition to an amazing day. I am grateful for this opportunity to be here and to work for you.”

  Warrington looked uncomfortable, but pleased. “Yes, it is good you are here, and I am certain this arrangement will serve us well. We have work to do, now. Your schedule ends at four o’clock. By the way, Archbishop Worthy will be here tomorrow. He shares your interest in documents and is supportive of our Keeper’s work. You may wish to meet him. Good evening.”

  Warrington observed for a moment the man with the cart, then slowly marched away.

  Matthias’ thoughts tumbled as he watched Warrington leave the room. Then, he was a bit startled to see that Miss Shefford appeared to be staring at the wall behind her desk as though she could burn a hole through it. As he approached, she pushed back in her chair to get up from her desk, nearly running over Matthias’ foot. Obviously not seeing the encounter, she exited the room. Her heels clicked down the marble hall to the lady’s room.

  Puzzled, Matthias shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled over to the man with the cart.

  “Hello there,” he cheerfully said.

  “G’day, sir.”

  The man continued to move new things from the cart to the shelving and the documented items onto the cart. He didn’t look up.

  “My name is Justus, Professor Matthias Justus.”

  There was no answer or eye contact.

  “And, what is your name?”

  “Mort, sir,” he said after a moment.

  “Well, Mort, I’m new here, and I wondered what you might be doing.”

  Mort put his hands on his hips and let out a deep breath.

  “I move the items, sir. I get the newly received ones from the lower level and am then directed to bring them up here. Then, when Miss Shefford has done the paperwork, I bring up a new batch and take the old ones down to storage.”

  He paused and gave Matthias a dull stare.

  “Well then, Mort. I guess I’ll be seeing you on a regular basis. If you have any suggestions, let me know.”

  “Suggestions about what, sir?”

  “About how we are doing with this. You know.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know exactly what you mean. I just do what I’m told, sir.”

  “I see. Very well. It was nice to meet you, Mort.”

  When Miss Shefford returned to her desk, Matthias noticed that her eyes appeared to be red. They worked silently at their own desks. As Mort was about to leave, he stopped on his way to the door and said, “Oh, Miss.”

  Miss Shefford stopped her work but ignored him. Matthias looked at her and then at Mort.

  “Yes, Mort?” Matthias asked.

  “Nothing, sir. I just thought I’d let you know I was leaving for the day.”

  Matthias looked again at Miss Shefford. She didn’t move. “Fine, Mort, I guess we’ll see you tomorrow.”

  As he pushed his cart down the hallway, Miss Shefford left her desk. She breezed over to the storage racks, turning and shifting the items with a nervous energy. When she returned to her desk, Matthias noted that her more relaxed and precise processing had returned.

  “He seems like a nice fellow,” Matthias quietly offered.

  She didn’t respond.

  “Miss Shefford, Mr. Warrington mentioned that Archbishop Worthy was coming tomorrow. That name is new to me. Can you tell me about him?”

  Her face slowly turned toward him. Her expression was hard, and her lips had lost their color.

  Matthias felt cold. “What can you tell me about Archbishop Worthy,” he asked, clearly hitting every consonant.

  She responded in a flat, dry voice with a hint of cynicism. “The Archbishop comes on Tuesdays, usually. He is well thought of by Mr. Warrington and Keeper Budge. As yourself, he has an interest in old documents, and he reads Latin of course, but also some Hebrew. I believe he has an added interest in popularizing the museum’s collection with officials of the Church and in the community amongst distinguished people.”

  Her expression remained empty as she looked at Matthias.

  “I see, thank you,” he said.

  He returned to the paperwork on his desk, but his senses where alive to what she was doing. She resumed her work. It was quiet for a long time.

  Just before four o’clock, Matthias left the workroom and visited the men’s lavatory. When he returned to his desk, he placed the biscuit tin into his attaché case with the Field Notes book. “Miss Shefford, this has been quite a day. Thank you for your assistance. I look forward to working with you over the next few months.”

  He waited. She glanced at him and a slight smile curled the corners of her lips.

  “You’re welcome, Professor. I guess we’ll be back tomorrow.”

  ***

  As Matthias strolled down the marble halls and then the stairs, he swung his case back and forth along his side. He glanced at the various exhibits and softly blew a faint whistle. When he reached the entry, he waved at the entrance clerk. The man returned a hesitant acknowledgement with a lifted hand.

  Matthias walked down the sidewalk as though he owned it. He nodded to everyone. Some paused to look back as he passed them by.

  When he arrived at the rooming house, he ran up the porch steps, flung open the door and dashed up the stairs to his room.

  He laid his attaché case on the small desk, took off his coat and lay back on his bed. The colorful comforter welcomed him with a soft rise. Closing his eyes, his breathing became deep and resonant.

  “Professor Justus, it’s seven o’clock,” Mrs. Whitley said at the door. “Professor Justus.”

  His eyes fluttered open. He rubbed them and yawned deeply. “Yes, ma’am, I’ll be right there.”

  “We’re about to serve dinner.”

  He heard her thudding shoes go down the creaking stairway. Getting up, he took a few steps over to a small window and looked at London, bathed in dusk. He pressed his cheek to the windowpane and squinted to see if he could see the British Museum. A few buildings were in the way. A bang sounded from the street and a truck lurched forward with a plume of black smoke behind it.

  Stretching his arms up to the low ceiling, he surveyed his room. He put on his coat, removed the biscuit tin from the attaché case, and went downstairs to eat.

  He paused on the stairs, thinking about Warrington, Miss Shefford, and Mort. The treasures of the museum flashed past his eyes. A sly grin emerged.

  PART THREE

  Indianola, Iowa

  Simpson College

  III - 1

  Angie McGrady lifted the receiver of her office desk phone and punched the buttons on the base. She leaned back in her chair, looked up at the ceiling, and twirled her hair with a finger. The young woman’s glossy red lipstick accented perfect, white teeth. Her pert nose flowed up to large, blue eyes behind her heavy glasses.

  “Hi Greg, how’s your day?” She waited a moment, fingering her hair. “Well, I just wondered where we’re going for dinner tonight.”

  She sat up and drew hearts on her desk pad. “That sounds great. I’ll meet you there. I’m sorry you have to work late all the time.”

  She carefully examined her nails. “Okay, sweetie, I’ll see you then!”

  She laid the receiver on the phone base and stretched out her arms.

  Tom, a student aide, drifted in and stopped by her desk. “I was wondering if I could take off for a few minutes.”

  She grinned at him, but her mind was elsewhere.

  “Miss McGrady? I was wondering if I could leave for a few minutes?”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah. Fine.”

  She got up and drifted out to the front desk. As Angie approached the counter, she gestured to an assistant who was speaking with Rennie.r />
  “That’s okay April, Ms. Haran already has a key to her work room.”

  Angie greeted Rennie with an energetic smile. “So, how is our project coming along, Ms. Haran?”

  Rennie reached across the counter to shake hands with her. “Great, Angie, and it’s getting more interesting.”

  After an awkward pause, Rennie asked, “What’s new with you?”

  “Oh, nothing, just the same stuff,” Angie nearly giggled. “So, what’s the latest on the professor?”

  “Well, the professor was a nice guy who might have become a bad guy; maybe a womanizer, but with good taste. International intrigue and …,” Rennie leaned over the counter and looked suspiciously to the side. Meeting Angie’s eyes, she said, “And, he may have been murdered.”

  She drew out the last word in a dramatic way.

  “Oh, my gosh! That’s awful!”

  Angie shifted back to a sillier persona, tilting her head from side to side and rolling her eyes.

  Rennie asked in a more professional tone, “So, what’s the good news? You have something going on?”

  Angie looked down at the counter and underlined with her finger a sentence on a form which lay beneath the glass surface.

  Rennie whispered, “As a seasoned investigative reporter, I’d have to say I see something important on the horizon.”

  Angie turned to her assistant who was a few feet away. “April, perhaps you could organize those archive requests at the work desk.”

  When April left the area, Angie quietly said, “I’ve been seeing a guy named Greg for a couple of years, and I think he might ask me something tonight.”

  She blushed and covered her mouth with one hand. She looked over at where April sat at a distant desk.

  Rennie slapped the counter and laid her bag down. “Hey, congratulations. Tell me about him.”

  “I met him at an event at the Civic Center. I was with a girl friend and we were getting a glass of wine during the intermission. He looked so great; well, he still does! He’s a lawyer; deals with bonds and big financing deals, mostly government stuff.”

  “So, what’s with tonight?” Rennie whispered.