The Atlantis Keystone

by Caroline Väljemark

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  It had been one of Anna’s favourite spots, the Torpa woods by the Rune Stone. She had even suggested that they should have their wedding ceremony there but Erik had found the idea absurd. It was a pretty meadow with an interesting history but it was in the middle of the forest! In the end they got married at Torpa. The burial ground of the estate was where his ancestors lay buried and would probably also be where he would lay to rest one day. In the evening after their arrival at Torpa, Erik had called Anna’s parents. They had suggested their local grave yard in Gothenburg, only ten minutes from their house. With her there they could easily visit her grave and look after it. Erik had agreed to this but only an hour later Anna’s mother had called again, having changed her mind. She had known that this was not what Anna would have wanted. In fact, Anna would have hated their over sized local grave yard and its modern church. Her relatives were spread all over the country and there was no other obvious place. She reverted back to Erik’s original suggestion, by the Rune Stone, close to her loved one.

  Already the next morning Erik suggested that they go there, to choose a suitable spot. Emma took his hand as they wandered the path to the now familiar meadow. He understood that this was to support him and to show that she cared for him as a friend, rather than any declaration of love. In any event, Erik appreciated it. He looked over at her. She looked nice in spite of her baggy winter jacket and hat. Her cheeks were healthy red and her eyes were shining in the winter sun. She looked very different from Anna though, who had had a naturally tanned face with freckles and distinct laughter dimples in her cheeks. He missed her. It was warm for February, around ten degrees. There was no snow on the ground and the sun was out.

  “How will the logistics of this work?” Emma asked referring to the distance from the house to the stone.

  “It’s a bit of a trek from Torpa and it feels like it’s in the middle of nowhere but one of our neighbours lives only five minute walk away from the stone and I’m sure they will let us all park there. It’ll be alright, as long as the weather holds up.”

  They eventually reached the meadow. The stone looked just like it had done the previous summer but as expected; winter had taken its toll on the grass, leaving unflattering pale green moss in its place. There were no flowers to be seen and the whole place looked a bit sorry, scattered with dead leaves on the brink of decomposing and surrounded by naked trees. Even so Erik still sensed the magic of the place. The lonely stone on the little hill had not lost its romantic appeal, appearing as if it had been taken straight from the history books. Somehow it looked even more mysterious in these winter conditions than in the summer. It was easier to imagine the Vikings who had inscribed it. He noticed that Emma had tears in her eyes. He understood that she was thinking about Paul. He decided to embrace her. She cried on his shoulder for a moment. Erik wanted to cry but couldn’t. He looked around, trying to visualise where it would be appropriate to bury his wife. Somehow it didn’t feel right to put another stone in this place. The one stone there dominated the area and another stone would never live up to the one on the hill, or would even detract from it. Adding another stone might ruin the mystery and the balance of the place. It simply didn’t feel right. They walked around for a bit. Erik was just about to call it all off when Emma suddenly noticed something unusual.

  “Look! Over there.” She was pointing in the direction of an area behind the hill. They walked over. Erik noticed it too. The earth had been recently disturbed. It looked as if someone had dug a hole.

  “Very strange… Who would want to dig a hole out here?” He walked up to it and studied it closely.

  “Someone who wants to hide something, Emma said with a mysterious smile.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “Well, someone could have buried something here.” They were both thinking the same.

  “It’s not impossible… We need to call the police.” Erik suddenly felt a surge of urgency.

  “We might be wrong. It could be nothing and we would have wasted police time. I say we try to check ourselves first.” Emma jumped up and down on the spot to evaluate the ground.

  “But the earth is hard. There’s no way we could dig into ice.” He was unsure about the whole DIY venture.

  “True but look.” Emma was bending down, feeling the ground with her hand. “The sun is shining in this area and the earth is less hard here. We can at least try.” She clearly wanted to.

  Erik gave in. “Fine, let’s try. We need a shovel though. Let’s go back to the house.”

  It took them another hour and a half before they were back by the stone with the shovel. Nothing appeared to have been touched in their absence. Erik volunteered to dig. It was surprisingly easy. Only about thirty centimetres down they hit something hard. Whatever it was it was hidden in black plastic bags. They were getting excited. There really was something there and whoever had dug this had not bothered to dig very deep. It took them less than half an hour and most of their combined muscle strength to get the plastic bags and the heavy contents out of the hole. It was well packaged and wrapped in three separate bags, sealed with string. They exchange excited looks as Emma untied the string. The size corresponded to what they had seen on the TV screens six months earlier. It was about fifty centimetres tall, one and a half meters long and fifty centimetres wide. Very heavy. One thing Erik noted was that it seemed big enough for a coffin, at least for a small person or someone squashed in there. This sent chills down his spine. His thoughts went back to Anna. He decided that this was not the place for her to be buried. Emma had got the strings untied.

  At that moment Erik suddenly had a realisation. “Oh my God, Emma. Could it be that Paul is the perpetrator after all? He could have ordered the hired burglar to hide it here; because this was a special place for the two of you. A place where he knew you would go!” Emma looked unsure so he quickly added: “I might be wrong.”

  She hesitated but then responded: “No, it makes sense, I suppose. He is the main suspect. Everything is pointing in his direction. The burglar’s story, his disappearance, his recent deciphering progress – everything! You are right. This was a special place for us. This is where we kissed for the first time. It is a memorable spot and he might have thought of it as a good symbolic place to hide the tablet.”

  “Shall we open the plastic bags or wait for the police?”

  “We’ve got this far. We might as well open them.”

  “Ok, this is the moment of truth. If the tablet is here I’ll know it immediately.”

  They both held their breath. Emma folded back the opening of the plastic bags and the chest was revealed. It looked different from the black and white camera images they had seen on the TV screen but there was no mistake. This was the Torpa chest; the chest that had been hidden in the space in the wall in the old Torpa stone house for hundreds of years; the chest that had been stolen six months ago; the chest that Paul had been sure contained the other half of the Torpa tablet. It was greyish in colour and damaged on all sides from advanced age and possible heavy handling. Its wooden lid had numerous cracks, in particular around the black metal hinges. It looked as if it was several hundred years old – and it probably was. Its odour was murky. This was the moment of truth. Could the tablet still be in there?

  Emma hesitated: “Oh my God! I can’t believe we’ve found it! This is the chest!”

  “Sure is!” Erik grinned enthusiastically. “Shall we open it?”

  “I’m not sure. We don’t want to disturb evidence or incriminate ourselves but I suppose a little peek can’t hurt.” They exchanged a long look once again.

  “Let’s do it. Let’s open it.” Erik carefully tried to lift the lid. “It’s locked.” The front of the chest displayed a key hole which made sure it was not possible to open the lid.

  They looked at it carefully for a few moments until Emma said: “Erik, you know what. Do you know what I think?” She looked at him with something resembling relief. Her cheeks wer
e red from excitement and the cold wind. “This chest hasn’t been opened! Look at the lock. Look at the lid. There’s no sign of anyone opening this recently! The lock has not been touched for a very long time. You can see that the space between the lid and the rest of the chest is full of dust and stuff which could only have got there over a period of many years – at least, not a few months.” She touched it gently with the back of her index finger. Erik inspected it closely.

  “I can’t believe it; I actually think you’re right! But why? Why would someone go through all the trouble of stealing the chest and then not even bother opening it? It doesn’t make any sense. Paul would have wanted to see the tablet. He would have hired the burglar to take careful pictures of the tablet which was supposed to be hidden in the chest. If the burglar didn’t even open it he would have been well and truly ripped off.”

  “Or maybe Paul wasn’t the perpetrator.”

  Emma’s suggestion was left lingering in the air. Erik looked again at the lock close up and then felt a rush of excitement.

  “Actually, we may not need to open the chest by force. I think I might know what key would fit!”

  “How can you possibly know that?” Emma’s voice was full of doubt.

  “After all I’ve spent my whole life in the vicinity of the old stone house and I know it very well. You know the key that was mentioned in the Torpa journals; it’s still in the house. I’ve always wondered about it but now, looking at this lock, I wouldn’t be surprised if we’ve found where the mysterious key belongs!”

  Despite this realisation about the key, they decided to put the chest back in the plastic bags and into the hole for protection. They needed to call the police. Realistically, opening the chest was out of the question. The last thing they wanted to do was to destroy any evidence which had the potential of clearing Paul’s name. The fact that the chest was unopened was helpful for him. They re-covered the hole with earth and flattened it so that it would look as if they had not been there. Although it was fairly obvious that the earth in the spot had been disturbed, they hoped that not many people ventured out there.

  “Are you sure it will be safe to leave it here? Would it not be better to stay here and wait for the police to arrive?” Emma asked as they had finished and stood and admired their work.

  “It will take a long time before they get here. We had better get home. Besides, I didn’t bring my phone. Did you?” Erik felt his pockets as he spoke. Emma did the same.

  “No. I’m afraid not. I suppose we don’t have a choice then, unless I stay here and you go back to the house.”

  “That’s out of the question. I’m not leaving you alone here. Come on, let’s go.” He took Emma’s hand for a moment to pull her away from there.

  They ventured off in the direction of the house, reluctantly leaving the chest in the hole by the rune stone. They were half running down the familiar path, which by now, Emma pointed out, seemed much shorter than it had done all those months ago. They both felt some sort of urgency, not wanting to risk the chest being stolen once again. As they reached the house Erik immediately called the police. They promised to come straight away. As soon as he had hung up Erik suggested that he venture out to the stone house to fetch the key. Emma insisted on joining him.

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  The old abandoned house was cold and Emma was glad she had kept her winter jacket on. She had not been in there since the summer’s day when the camera hole had been drilled. Being there brought back memories of the Torpa ghost who she was sure she had seen but who may actually have been Erik’s eccentric grandmother on a nocturnal excursion before she died. The space in the wall looked different. The wall had been carelessly opened and the space between the outer and inner wall was plain to see. The space had no windows and no furniture; only thick white and grey walls. The only thing found had been the chest and after its sudden removal the space had been left empty. Somehow the sight of the space scared her even more than when it had been bricked up. Her imagination started to run riot and she imagined that any ghost trapped in the space would now run wild in the house, leaving them exposed and vulnerable. She kept these deluded thoughts to herself though but was hoping that Erik would find the key quickly so that they could leave. He led them to the room where she thought she had seen the white haired person, possibly Erik’s grandmother, that night in August. As they entered, chills were running down her spine. An old solid oak chair had been placed in a lonely corner next to the window. She imagined how the old woman had sat there when the burglar had entered the house. A kerosene lamp was on the floor next to it. The room was sparingly furnished with a grand fireplace at one end and an old wooden dining table in the middle but there were no dining chairs. The red thick curtains had been infested by moths and showed clear signs of age. That this house had once been inhabited was plain to see but it was equally obvious why ghost stories had emerged out of its cold, dark and dingy rooms. She could feel her teeth chattering as they crossed the room. Almost laughing at her own stupidity, Emma suddenly thought she had seen Erik’s dead grandmother in the corner of her eye by the chair. She spun around so hastily that Erik turned to see what she was doing. He immediately spotted her discomfort and could not disguise an irritating smile. She didn’t like him noticing her weaknesses. Torpa had clearly proved to be one of them. However, when they both heard a loud unmistakable noise from somewhere in the building Erik stopped smiling and got hold of Emma in one swift movement. She let out a little scream at his hasty action and felt herself, and possibly Erik, shaking from fear. There was definitely something there. Something appeared to be nearing the door to the room they were in. Erik was hugging her as if he wanted to protect her from all evil. When the door slowly started to open Emma let out a loud scream and Erik let her go to grab hold of an old fork-like object in the corner next to the fire place. The sight greeting the intruder was almost comical, with Emma at that stage sitting on the floor and Erik, like a knight ready for a duel, directing the fork in the direction of the door. When they saw the surprised face of Erik’s father, they both felt ridiculous.

  “What are you two doing in here?” he asked, walking over to give them a welcoming embrace. Erik’s parents had only just come back from Stockholm to spend the weekend at Torpa.

  “That’s a long story,” Erik responded elusively whilst lowering the fork. “Let’s go back to the house and we’ll explain.” Before leaving the room Erik found the rusty old key on the shelf where he had last seen it and put it in his pocket.

  Less than forty minutes had passed but it felt like an eternal wait before two police officers finally arrived in one police car. Erik had warned them about the size of the chest and the weight of it but they didn’t seem to have brought any special equipment. Erik and Emma came out to greet them. Erik’s parents had already gone again, this time to go shopping in a nearby town.

  The lack of resource on the part of the officers was immediately explained by one of them: “We had to call head office before heading off and I understand that your find is connected to a police investigation. We really can’t do anything until the detective in charge arrives.”

  It was agreed that Erik would show them how to get there by car via their neighbours, to avoid a long walk. Emma was instructed to stay in the house and wait for the police to turn up. She felt generally jumpy after the nerve racking episode in the old house and didn’t enjoy being alone. To keep herself occupied, she spent this time nervously browsing random books in the Torpa library, keeping an eye on the window with a view over the drive way. After an absent minded glance through, she noted that they certainly had an impressive Egyptian collection. Clearly someone in the Torpa family had at some point had a keen interest in ancient Egypt. But there were also books on other civilisations. The Olmec civilisation in Mexico seemed to have been a favourite as well as the pre-Inca civilisations in Peru and Chile. To her fascination Emma also found a book on Ankhor Wat in Cambodia. Most of these books seemed to be early 20th century. When
Erik appeared after over an hour and a half, having walked back, Emma was taken by surprise and much to her annoyance she let out another girly scream. She was relieved to see that it was him and to hear that the chest was still there and guarded by the two local police officers.

  An hour later the other police team arrived; and in style. They had certainly taken the report of the find of the chest seriously and had brought a police van as well as a car, one senior officer and, as far as Emma could tell, six constables or detectives. She hoped that among them was someone specialising in ancient finds. She could not wait to find out what was hidden in the chest. What if the tablet was still in there? What if it contained other prehistoric discoveries brought back by the Vikings? What on earth could be hidden in there? Hopefully they would know very soon. Emma was suddenly excited. One question that kept troubling her was why the burglar had not bothered to open the chest. She mentioned this to the senior officer and added that in her opinion this provided support to Paul’s innocence. He made a note of her submission but remarked that this could simply have been a breach of contract by the hired burglar; that he had failed to open the chest, contrary to his instructions. Clearly he was not one to jump to conclusions.

  Following a few discussions in Swedish, which Emma didn’t understand much of, it was decided that the chest should be opened in situ before being taken away for analysis. This would prevent any unnecessary damage to the contents as a result of inappropriate packaging. The team had brought an array of equipment and tools which were all stored in the van. Emma and Erik got a lift in the police car leading the way to the neighbour’s house near the rune stone. The neighbour in question didn’t seem to be at home and Emma doubted that any permission had been sought to trespass on their property. This didn’t seem to bother Swedes too much. The team very efficiently unpacked and soon they were all walking in the woods on their way to the chest, only five minutes away. Emma laughed to herself as the procession reminded her of Snow White’s seven dwarfs on their way to the mine looking for rubies and diamonds. She started to hum the little jig…Heigh-ho, heigh ho… but somehow she didn’t feel much like Snow White.