The Atlantis Keystone

by Caroline Väljemark

  “I will try to help but don’t expect me to believe him until we find some counter evidence.”

  “Of course, thank you Erik. You’re the best!” She gave him a quick peck on his lips and stood up. She was happier than she had been for a while. Paul may not have done it! Paul may not have had the tablet all this time! All her suspicions about his bad intentions may not have been true. Emma had to admit to herself that she still had a sliver of doubt about his sincerity but fundamentally she believed him. “Get some sleep, because we need to get you out of here as quickly as possible!”

  ▪ ▪ ▪

  It was to take another three days for Erik to recover. After the nurse had stopped giving him drugs his head had started to hurt badly and he had had a brief slant of fever before finally starting to feel better. He was still not entirely fit but his doctor was happy to let him go. Erik knew his own body well enough to know that he was out of danger. Emma had been a great support, staying by his side. She had even managed to speak to the little man who Erik had mistaken for a mental patient due to his constant shouting which Erik could not understand. Apparently he had been asking for some more water and complaining about the poor service provided by hospital staff.

  They were in a car, stuck in traffic, on their way to the airport when Emma’s phone rang again. Sure that it was Paul once again, she was surprised to hear the deep voice of a man introducing himself as Inspector Gunnar Holmqvist from the Swedish police. He had a strong Swedish accent.

  “We have heard that you perhaps have been contacted by Professor Paul Simmons in the last few days. Is that correct?” Emma hesitated for a moment but decided to tell the truth.

  “Yes, he called two or three days ago but I only spoke to him very briefly. He said he was innocent and that someone had framed him”. The police officer was quiet for a moment.

  “Is that all he said?”

  “Yes.” Emma considered whether to mention that he had asked them to find the perpetrator but decided not to.

  “It is my duty to inform you that the yacht which Paul Simmons was last seen in, belonging to his friend Athos Palaikastro, has been found abandoned near the place where he was last seen, on the Spanish south coast near Cadiz. There’s no sign that there were any passengers when the boat went to the shore and according to the Spanish Authorities it appears that Mr Simmons perhaps has fallen overboard during the night. All the life vests were still onboard and there didn’t appear to be any attempt to moor the vessel. A search of the surrounding area has already been conducted and there are no signs of a body but the currents around that area can be very strong. If Mr Simmons did fall overboard the chances of his survival are slim. I’m sorry.” Emma fell silent. Her face was expressionless like a stone. She was in shock, unable to cry, unable to speak, unable to believe.

  “I don’t believe you. Paul is an excellent swimmer and diver. He would not drown. He simply wouldn’t drown. You have to keep searching for him. He’s not dead and he’s innocent! He was on his way to the police. He will show up at your doorstep soon.”

  “We will continue our search for him. You may well be right. We’ll keep you informed… and please contact us if you should hear from him.”

  NINETEEN

  Oxford, February 2006

  Emma was desperate to find a package, letter or message from Paul. After all, he had promised to send her something in the post when they had last spoken. She was pinning all her hopes on this message. Without it they had very little to go on and no evidence that could prove whether Paul had something to do with the break in. Following a brief stop at Emma’s parent’s house in Islington in central London, a modest mid-terrace council house, Emma and Erik travelled to Oxford in a rental car. Erik had refused to borrow Emma’s parents’ old Volvo even though they had offered more than once in the hour they were there. Not because he had anything against old cars or Volvos but because he suspected it was their only car. In spite of the fact that Emma’s family was far from wealthy, Erik was jealous of her for growing up with loving parents and two brothers. He had never been short of money but had never felt loved by his absent parents. He had no brothers or sisters and had had a lonely depressing childhood in a big empty house. His gloomy reflections about his life were not helped by the fact that he had trouble with work. They kept calling him, requesting that he return. He had only booked a week off initially, had managed to get another week and now he had been away for over three, mainly due to his serious concussion. When he had called his boss to ask to have another week it had been on the understanding that he would return at the end, provided he was well enough, and attend an important client meeting. In fact, he was meant to have gone straight to Sweden from Beirut, via a three hour stopover in London. When Emma had had the news about Paul’s disappearance, Erik had decided that Emma needed him and that she wouldn’t rest until they had at least attempted to find the person who supposedly had framed Paul. Erik had to admit that he still believed Paul was guilty. In any event, he had found the decision to stay with Emma an easy one. Work had to come second where such bewildering events had occurred and he was still not entirely recovered. But his boss had not been understanding and had made threats about postponing his promotion to partner by at least another year unless he returned that week. This had put him in a difficult position. He had agreed to make some calls from London and to meet up with a UK based client whilst he was there already the next day and then return to Sweden as soon as he possibly could.

  As they arrived in Oxford Emma parked outside the blocks of flats of her student residence. Erik got out of the passenger seat and was just about to open the boot when he saw a familiar face in the distance, walking across the road. He froze. He thought he had seen Mary Brown from Athens, wearing a thick winter jacket and a woolly hat but no, he decided, it couldn’t be. He must have been mistaken, but the resemblance was uncanny, at least from where he was standing. Her being in England would also explain her absence from Athens.

  “What’s the matter?” Emma asked. You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Oh, nothing. I thought I saw someone but…” He didn’t say anything further. His head was spinning. He didn’t want to start running after this person only to find that she was a complete stranger. But what if it was her; what would she be doing there? Emma had taken her large suitcase out of the car and struggled with it. “I’ll take it,” he offered. They went inside the house and up three flights of stairs.

  “I really hope Paul’s sent me something. He said he would, didn’t he?”

  Erik thought for a while and then said: “Yes, he did.”

  They stopped outside her door on the third floor while Emma searched for her keys. He didn’t know what he had expected from Emma’s flat but he was shocked by the chaos that met his eyes. It was a small studio flat with only one room housing a bed, a kitchen and living room area with a two-seater sofa and a coffee table. It had two fairly large windows and high ceiling making the room swim in natural light. The state of decoration could have been vastly improved, with walls painted in a dark green colour, disturbing for its minimising effect. The kitchen was so small that it might as well have been portable. The furniture was generally old but not antique. Erik guessed that Emma had bought it all in a flea-market or perhaps she had been paid to take it on. Thin white curtains surrounded both windows and Erik noticed that wooden blinds had been installed recently, as the dust from the drilling was still on the window sill. His overall impression of the place was tainted by the disarray surrounding them. Clothes littered the floor, the drawers of the desk and the wardrobe were open and the bed was unmade leaving the sheets in a jumble.

  “Oh my God!” was all Emma managed to say.

  Erik was stunned and speculated: “There must have been a break in. Someone was looking for something. They’ve been through everything!”

  “Yes, look! Someone’s searched my desk too. I never leave the draws open.”

  “They’ve also searched through your clo
thes and bed.”

  Emma was quiet for a moment and slow blush reached her cheeks. She reluctantly admitted: “Well, they may not have done that. I was in a bit of a rush when I left for the airport. But someone has definitely been in here and searched my desk!” She marched out and knocked on the door of the next door neighbour, someone called Kate. Erik followed. Kate was home. She was a short dark haired girl who, according to Emma’s brief introduction, studied maths. Erik was relieved that she was able to give them an explanation.

  “The police were here. It was about a week ago now. I didn’t see what they did and they weren’t in there for very long. I stayed in my flat, not wanting to get in their way. I’ve been worried about you Emma.”

  “I’m fine but Professor Simmons may not be. He’s been reported missing; in Spain. They found the yacht he was on abandoned and …” She paused, still upset by it all.

  Erik helped her out. “The police think he may have drowned.” Seeing Emma’s face, he continued. “But we don’t think so”.

  “I heard rumours about it but I couldn’t believe it. They said he’s wanted in connection with some sort of burglary where someone died”.

  “That’s right”, Emma said. “But Erik and I believe he’s innocent and we’re trying to find the person who framed him.”

  “Well I hope you succeed. I know he’s your favourite professor,” Kate said with a crooked smile before they said goodbye.

  Erik helped Emma tidying up the flat. It felt awkward making someone else’s unwashed bed but he did it nevertheless. “How can you be so sure Paul’s innocent?” he asked, voicing what he had been thinking the whole journey there.

  “Well obviously someone’s conspiring against him” she pointed out. “All evidence appears to point to him as guilty but as Paul said when he called, someone has set him up and mixed up the evidence. The burglar has named him as the person who hired him for the break-in, which is strange in itself. What employer of criminals would give their own name? Would Paul really be that stupid? I don’t think so.”

  “If we then start with the assumption that Paul is alive and that he’s innocent,” Erik suggested soberly, “why would someone want to nail Paul? Who would have anything to gain by it, or have something against him?”

  “That’s what Paul wants us to figure out. It’s a shame that if Paul had sent something to me here the police probably have it now…” she said and he could see she was close to tears. Erik wanted to shout that it was probably for the best and that if Paul was alive he should immediately go to the police, but he didn’t want to upset her. He was just about to say something about Paul’s innocence when he spotted a brown package, the size of a book, in the corner next to the front door under the shoe-stand. There was also a letter from the university.

  “Look there!” he said. “It must’ve been dropped through the letter box after the police were here. It probably moved when we opened the door!” In the mess they hadn’t spotted it immediately. Emma dropped the jumper she was folding and grabbed the package off the floor. It took her no more than a few seconds to rip open the packaging to reveal a book. She looked at it for a moment, standing still without saying a word then suddenly started to cry. Erik didn’t know what to say but he guessed that the book, which looked like a ‘dummies guide’ to something, was from Paul. He walked over to her, putting his arms around her as she started to shake.

  “Come, sit down”. He led her to the bed and made her sit. With his arm still around her, he let her cry on his chest. The book fell on the floor. It was not the first time he had seen her cry in the last couple of days but she normally recovered quickly. Unusually this time it made her seem vulnerable. Despite everything it made him like her even more. He resisted the urge to kiss her. He knew it wouldn’t be right. The reason for her tears was another man who may or may not be alive and who she still had strong feelings for. But why had Paul sent her this book and why had it prompted such a reaction from her? Erik was puzzled. He picked up the book from the floor. It was the ‘Dummies guide to computers” and he noticed that it was a library book. He was none the wiser. Emma eventually dried her face with the bottom end of the bed covers and broke the silence.

  “I gave this to Paul some time ago to tease him. He’s surprisingly computer illiterate. Paul didn’t appreciate it at the time.” she laughed. “I also had to pay a hefty fee to the library for it as I didn’t want to remind him to return it to me.”

  “Surely, a library fee couldn’t be the reason for him sending you this book in the post at such a distressing time, could it?”

  “No, I suspect not,” she laughed again drying her tears with her sleeve. “He must have left a message somewhere in here.” Erik was relieved to see that she quickly cheered up and started to feel excitement at the prospect that Paul may have communicated something to them. He was also intrigued that they were about to find something out.

  “Yes, let’s have a proper look through.” He started to flick the pages from the start but Emma asked him to go straight to page thirteen.

  “May I ask why?”

  “Number thirteen is Paul’s favourite number. He’s always been fascinated by why number thirteen is seen as unlucky. There’re obviously plenty of fairly ‘modern’ explanations, such as that Judas was the thirteenth apostle to sit down at the last supper before he went on to betray Jesus or Friday the thirteenth being the day that the Knights Templar were slaughtered.”

  “Those are modern explanations?”

  “Well, it depends on how you see it. Paul’s fascinated by the fact that already in 1800 BC the Mesopotamian Code of Hammurabi leaves out number thirteen in its numbered list of laws, perhaps suggesting that number thirteen was unlucky for some reason or event happening in pre-historic times.” Erik flicked to page thirteen and Emma shouted immediately: “Look! I was right!” In the inner margin on page thirteen was some diagonal scribble in what Erik guessed was Linear A or B. The writing appeared to have been hastily noted down with a pencil.

  “Look, Paul’s left us a message in Linear A. It’s going to take me a little bit of time to read it.” She went over to her half tidy desk, sat down and started to make notes on a pad of paper. Erik stood looking over her shoulder as she was working.

  “Can you please go over there to the bed? You’re distracting me.”

  “Am I now? I’ll be waiting on the bed” Erik said with a pretend flirty voice. Emma looked up and laughed. He watched her work for the better part of an hour before she stood up, scratching her head.

  “Paul’s left us a message using Linear A writing. I’ve written it out using Linear B values and it’s in Swedish!” Erik walked over and looked over Emma’s shoulder at what she had scribbled down on the paper:

  ‘NYA TECKEN FINNES I DENNA KORTA RAD’

  “Does it mean anything?” Emma asked. “Is it Swedish?”

  “It is indeed. Paul must’ve learnt something when he was in Sweden. It’s not very helpful though. It says ‘New signs can be found in this short line’. That doesn’t help us at all, does it?”

  “I’m not sure. Evidently Paul must have intended to say something by it. Could he have meant something about the actual translation of the Linear A? Perhaps he used a special order which is the same as in the tablet? Or perhaps it’s an anagram!”

  “New signs can be found in this short line.” Erik repeated it. “Let’s put it into an anagram translation site.” They opened Emma’s computer and quickly found one on the internet.

  “Look at this: ‘Faddrarna Ikea Tecknen Snyten Nio’. Who would have guessed they would be able to put an IKEA in there! What does it mean?” Emma was pointing at one of the first results on the page.

  “Nothing unfortunately. It means ‘The fathers IKEA the signs bundles nine’. Somehow I don’t think this is what Paul tried to communicate”, Erik chuckled. Emma laughed as well. They looked down the long list of possible anagrams but none made any sense.

  “Try English? Paul could have written it in En
glish”, Emma suggested. The anagram site was multilingual and Erik tried the Swedish sentence using English as the language. “Look, only 34,483 options! The first possibility is a rather amusing ‘A Anaconda Tenderfeet Kirks Ninny’. This’ll take a while. And Paul could have used Swedish, Spanish, Latin, Arabic or even ancient Egyptian for all I know! What was he thinking?” Emma rolled her eyes in desperation. Erik smiled and held her chin with his hand.

  “You look exhausted. We don’t have to solve this now,” he said and then looked around to see the white envelope still on the floor. “Aren’t you gonna open that letter as well?” He picked it up and handed it over to her.

  “Sure, it’s from the university.” She opened it. “They’ve arranged a replacement professor for Paul. Professor Brown. I don’t know him. Apparently I have a scheduled meeting with him tomorrow. Lucky that I’m here in Oxford.”

  “Her”, Erik added. “I think you’ll find that Professor Brown is a woman”.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Remember I told you about the professor in Athens who Paul and I met up with. I believe this is her. Professor Mary Brown.”

  “But how can you be so sure, Brown is a very common name?”

  “I think I just saw her, just now when we arrived. She’s here in Oxford and I can only assume that she’s the Professor Brown who’s now your new professor. I didn’t tell you about it when I saw her as I wasn’t sure but now it seems almost inevitable.”

  “Is she not also the Professor Brown who told you not to trust Paul?” Emma recalled with a frown.

  “She certainly is. And following our meeting I’ve not been able to get hold of her. All very strange. And we also know that Paul has told her his theory about the tablet.”

  “Well, that should make my meeting with her tomorrow all the more interesting…”