THE SECRET OF THE KING'S TOMB
A Richard Halliburton Adventure
GARRETT DRAKE
For Faith, Julia, Elijah, and Sarabeth,
my four little adventurers
“Those who live in the even tenor of their way simply exist until death ends their monotonous tranquility. No, there’s going to be no even tenor with me. The more uneven it is, the happier I shall be.” — Richard Halliburton, 1919
Prologue
Fall 1912
Memphis, Tennessee
THE EARLY MORNING SUN beamed through the thinning foliage overhead as the truck came to a halt. Mr. Wesley Halliburton adjusted his hat before addressing his sons.
“Boys, I need you to entertain yourselves for a few minutes while I talk to Mr. Jackson about purchasing this land,” Wesley said. “Do you think you can do that?”
Richard and Wesley Jr. both nodded before racing out of their father’s automobile and dashing across the wooded acreage.
Within two minutes, a game of Patriots and Redcoats had broken out, a favorite of Wesley Jr.’s. The two boys selected their weapons from the broken limbs lying on the forest floor before staking out their forts.
Richard crouched near the base of an oak tree and waited for the right moment to strike. He scanned the area in search of his younger brother. Wesley Jr. had scrambled down the side of a hill about twenty yards away and disappeared. As a gentle breeze swept by, crisp leaves rustled, adding to the serene sounds of nature. A bubbling brook at the bottom of a short ravine and constant birdcalls provided a symphony that struck the right chords with Richard. It also provided the cover he needed to launch an assault on Wesley Jr. the second his movements surrendered his hiding spot.
When a woodpecker began hammering away on a nearby pine tree, Wesley Jr. rolled onto his back and stared upward with a smile on his face as he watched the show. Clutching a stick in one hand and a fistful of acorns in the other, Richard seized the opportunity to attack. He stormed down the hill and unleashed a barrage on his unsuspecting brother.
“Back to England with you,” Richard said as he watched Wesley Jr. twisting and turning to escape.
Richard grinned, admiring his stealthy move for a moment longer than he should have.
“Never, you traitor!” Wesley Jr. said.
Wesley Jr. spun around and kicked his legs out, catching Richard in the back of his knees and toppling him. Richard fell down, crashing face first into the moist Tennessee earth amidst a sea of leaves. In a deft move, Wesley Jr. pounced on top of Richard, securing him with a bear hug. The two boys tumbled down the hill, coming to a stop just a few feet short of the water.
Richard broke free from his brother’s grasp and took up a new position behind him. With Wesley Jr.’s face pressed flat against the dirt, he struggled, thrashing his arms and legs in an attempt to buck Richard off. But after several failed attempts to shred Richard, the fight left Wesley Jr.
“I’m not falling for it again,” Richard said.
Wesley Jr. grunted. “I’m not trying to trick you. I promise. I see something.”
“You see something?” Richard asked. “I don’t care what it is. I’m not letting you get up until you surrender.”
“I see an arrowhead,” Wesley Jr. said.
“Where?” Richard said as he stood, hoping to be the first to put his hands on it.
Wesley Jr. darted toward the water and scooped up the artifact before Richard could snatch it.
“Haha!” Wesley Jr. said, dancing back and forth in triumph. “This looks like one from the Choctaws that Dad showed us a few weeks ago.”
Wesley Jr. kept talking, but Richard wasn’t listening.
“Yeah, yeah,” Richard said as he knelt next to the edge of the brook.
“I’m gonna go tell Dad,” Wesley Jr. said as he jumped to his feet and raced off.
Richard didn’t even consider joining. He plunged his hand into the freezing water and retrieved a shiny object. After studying it for a few seconds, he dipped it back into the stream and cleaned off the edges. When he was finished, he used his shirt to dry the piece off and then held it up to inspect it further.
Spanish gold!
Richard could hardly contain himself as he mulled over the possibilities of how the coin arrived at this point.
Perhaps this belonged to DeSoto when he led the conquistadors through here. Or maybe it belonged to some Choctaws who robbed a few Spaniards.
Whatever the gold’s true origin didn’t really matter to Richard. He was confident he could spin a tale interesting enough to lure his classmates into forking over a penny for the privilege to see the ancient artifact.
Chapter 1
The Hermitage Hotel
Monte-Carlo, Monaco
9:45 p.m., January 29, 1922
RICHARD HALLIBURTON KNOCKED on the door and then tugged on the bottom of his bellhop jacket while waiting for someone to answer. Smoothing out the wrinkles around the breast pockets, he wondered if anyone would notice that his uniform was about one size too small. Had there been more time, he would’ve scrounged up a proper-fitting uniform from the hotel’s washroom. But Richard had been sent to rescue Dr. Thurston Miller in the most urgent of missions.
Richard dug into his pocket before pulling out his dagger. Hiding it behind his back, he waited for someone to open the door. Nearly thirty seconds had passed, and he hadn’t heard a sound. He knocked again. Thirty more seconds. Still nothing.
Using his left hand, he turned the knob and opened the door. Much to Richard’s surprise, the door wasn’t locked.
“Hello, Dr. Miller?” Richard called as he entered.
He turned on the light and scanned the room. Papers were strewn across the floor. Drawers were haphazardly placed near the dresser. A briefcase and its contents covered the bed.
That’s when Richard noticed a man sitting in a chair facing the wall in the far corner.
“Dr. Miller?” Richard called again before shutting the door behind him.
Again, there was no response.
As Richard drew near, he noticed the man’s hand dangling over the chair’s arm with a gun just below his fingertips. Upon closer inspection, Richard realized that the drapes were now decorated with blood splatters.
He gasped as his eyes widened.
What have I gotten myself into?
According to Hank Foster from U.S. Army Intelligence, the assignment was allegedly a simple one: Warn the famous British anthropologist about the impending danger of meeting with his guests and urge him not to give up any information. Then Richard just had to listen in on the conversation and report back what he heard.
Such a task seemed simple enough from the fast-talking Texan who Richard had met just hours earlier in the Monte-Carlo Casino. The recent Princeton graduate needed something to help him forget that a few short hours earlier he was on his way to amassing a small fortune at the roulette table before losing it all. But it was the reward that ultimately lured him to accept—a fully funded trip to explore Egypt.
Richard shoved his hand into his pocket and fished out the small replica of the Sphinx given to him by his grandfather J.W. While he was a prisoner during the Civil War, he said there were only two things that kept him alive. The first was hope that he would be reunited again with his beloved Juliet. The second was that he would one day travel the world and visit the ancient sands of Egypt. While Richard never met his grandfather, the story was passed down along with the Sphinx. J.W. never laid eyes on Egypt, and neither had Richard’s father. But Richard vowed to see it for them all.
He pocketed the item and continued to scour the room. On top of the desk, he found a sloppily written letter begging the world to forgive him f
or taking his own life. Richard found another document with Dr. Miller’s signature and compared it with the signed note. They appeared similar but not in the exact manner one would expect from a scientist known for his fastidiousness.
After five minutes, Richard had seen enough and decided to report back what he had observed. But as he strode toward the door, he heard footsteps clattering down the hallway and men shouting.
Richard knew he couldn’t be caught in the room, especially if it was the Germans who were headed here for the meeting. Ripping his knife out of his pocket, he darted out onto the balcony. He pulled the doors shut behind him and plastered his back against the wall. A stiff breeze whipped across his face, which was assaulted by the driving rain. The drops pelted the window and resulted in a high-pitched tinkle.
“We must have missed something,” one of the men said in German. “Check the room again.”
Richard had picked up enough of the language while traveling through Europe for the past six months that he understood the conversation.
“Wilhelm, look at this,” one of the other men said.
After a long pause, the man referred to as Wilhelm spoke. “I don’t remember seeing this earlier,” he said. “A little model of the Sphinx. Interesting.”
Richard patted the outside of his pants pockets, feeling for the replica.
It must’ve fallen out.
“Someone has been here,” Wilhelm said. “Search this room again in case they’re still here. If we don’t find the document, we must go search his holiday home.”
Footsteps thundered around the room—and then they stormed toward the balcony.
Richard was on the third floor and contemplated a jump. However, he knew he was sure to break his leg or ankle in the fall.
Better than being dead.
The door swung open, and he didn’t wait around for the man to make eye contact. Aside from getting murdered, the last thing Richard wanted was for the man to see his face. Richard hurdled over the railing toward the diagonal balcony.
“Stopp ihn!” the soldier yelled.
Richard didn’t even pause as he leaped over the railing again, this time landing on the sidewalk. Despite staggering as he hit the ground, he regained his balance and stayed upright. With his face drenched, he brushed away some of the rain with the back of his hand before breaking into a sprint.
Richard weaved in and out of the foot traffic clogging up the sidewalks on Monte-Carlo Avenue. Above the spatter of rain on the concrete and shouts of umbrella-bearing pedestrians miffed with his clumsy navigational skills, he heard rapid footsteps behind him. Around him, the street lamps flickered as the wind picked up.
Hustling toward the Monte-Carlo Casino, Richard searched for a place to hide. Entering the hotel would likely enable the Germans to hone in on his location. With the crowd thinning along one area of the street, he sought a nook to hunker down while the Reichswehr soldier stormed past was vital for survival.
He identified a possible spot across the street, a small park with trees and a structure that he figured could at least provide an opportunity to escape once and for all. Dodging a horse-drawn carriage and two motor vehicles, Richard crouched down against the base of the tree and peered around the edge to see if he could find his pursuer.
Seconds later, a man stormed into the park and stopped, putting his hands on his hips as he peered in every direction. Richard leaned back, shielding himself from being recognized. His palms started to sweat, his heart racing.
When he leaned forward to see if the man was there, Richard let out a sigh of relief. The man was gone.
Richard wanted to head for the casino but needed to make sure he just missed the Reichswehr agent. When he attempted to lean forward a second time, he felt two large hands clamp down on his shoulders and yank him backward.
Chapter 2
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING out here?” demanded the man clutching Richard’s shoulder.
Turning around, Richard was relieved to see Hank Foster.
“I was followed,” Richard said.
“Let’s get inside now,” Hank said. “You need to tell me everything.”
Richard hustled up the steps after Hank before the two men found a table near the back wall and collapsed into a pair of chairs. A waiter stopped and asked the two men if they wanted towels. After they said yes, the waiter disappeared and a recounting of the event began.
“What did you find out?” Hank asked.
Richard glanced around the room before leaning in close. “They killed him.”
“Dr. Miller?” Hank asked, his eyes widening.
Richard nodded. “Shot him in the head and then staged it to look like a suicide.”
Hank cursed as he clenched his fist. “Dr. Miller was a good man.”
“Well, the Reichswehr were looking for something. The main German leader—I believe he went by the name Wilhelm—mentioned something about looking for it at Dr. Miller’s holiday home.”
“He winters in Marseille, a relatively short train ride away,” Hank said. “We need to know what the Reichswehr is after there.”
Richard cocked his head to one side. “You mean, this isn’t over? I have to do more for you?”
“Probably not much more,” Hank said. “Look, all you need to do is get on that train in the morning for Marseille. Then just slip some money to some of the house staff after the Germans leave to find out what the Reichswehr soldiers were asking about or looking for. Then just report back to me.”
Richard scowled. “Earlier, my simple task was to eavesdrop on the meeting and tell you what I heard—and you agreed to pay for my trip to Egypt.”
“That was all before Dr. Miller was murdered.”
“And that’s exactly why I don’t think I should be compelled to continue on this foolish expedition for you.”
Hank chuckled. “Come on, Richard. This shouldn’t be difficult for you. Heck, you usually tempt fate at least twice before breakfast. Remember, I’ve been following you across two continents. I know you aren’t genuinely fearful of something as benign as making new friends at a dead archeologist’s winter home and snooping around a bit.”
Richard felt his heart still thumping in his chest, which wasn’t unusual given his past history. As a young teenager, he spent a few months in the hospital while doctors tried to figure out why he had such a rapid heartbeat. And while it eventually subsided, he wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced this amount of pounding.
“If I jump off a cliff and drown, I’ve got no one to blame but myself for my own stupidity,” Richard said. “But secret German soldiers creeping around in the shadows and murdering innocent people? No, this not the same thing as what I do.”
“Sure it is,” Hank said. “They’re both exciting and adventurous. You could die in either one of these scenarios.”
“But if the Reichswehr shoots me, it won’t be on my terms.”
“If you think you always get to dictate the terms of adventure, you haven’t been on enough journeys,” Hank said.
Richard knew Hank was right. Aside from a short trip to Europe that ignited the unquenchable wanderlust raging within, Richard hadn’t seen much of the world. If the Great War had continued, maybe he would have. He looked forward to serving his country in battle. But lurking in the shadows to spy on an elite team of German soldiers? Even to Richard that seemed like a dangerous venture—and one he now knew could have fatal consequences.
“Can’t you find another one of your spies to do the job? If this job is as simple as you claim it is, practically anyone could do it.”
“I don’t trust just anyone.”
Richard eyed Hank cautiously. “And you trust me?”
“I’m an expert at discerning the character of a man. My job depends on it.”
“In that case, I’m still baffled why you’ve chosen me,” Richard said. “When you approached, I was barely a little more than a down-on-his-luck gambler who tossed away the wealth I’d amassed because of my greed.”
> “You’re still young,” Hank said. “It’s an excusable offense.”
“Yet you think you know what kind of man I am? I still don’t know what kind of man I am, nor am I convinced that my decisions are always the best ones.”
“You run toward danger without blinking an eye—and you love your country,” Hank said. “Those are two traits that make you an exceptional candidate for this line of work.”
“Perhaps you’re a skilled recruiter because you have to continually fill new openings.”
Hank chuckled. “I’ll admit that there’s a high turnover rate, but that’s the nature of the business.”
“And that doesn’t sound like any kind of business I want to be involved with.”
“Aren’t you the least bit curious why a group of German soldiers would murder a British archeologist in a Monte-Carlo hotel?”
“All I’m thinking about is that I might be next,” Richard said. “Besides, if this job in Marseille is so simple, you could probably do it yourself.”
Hank looked down and sighed.
In an instant, Richard saw through the ploy. “You already know what’s going on here, don’t you?”
Hank shrugged. “I have a hunch, but I need it confirmed—and by someone other than me.”
“Where are they going?”
“We believe they’re headed somewhere in Egypt.”
“You offered to pay my way there because you want me to follow them, don’t you?”
Hank nodded. “It’s not a crime to ask.”
“You have an underhanded way of asking.”
“Look, I don’t want you to kill anyone or confront them,” Hank said. “I just want you to keep an eye on them and report it back to me. We have teams of highly trained soldiers that could handle the messier duties of this mission if the situation called for it.”
“I don’t know,” Richard said before taking a deep breath and then exhaling. “I’m not sure this is the kind of adventure I’m after, even if it is just spying on someone.”
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