Map of the Dead: A mystery thriller that's a page turner

by Murray Bailey

  Marek instructed Ahmed to wait at the hotel and he took the driver’s seat. Tariq climbed in beside him and spoke in Arabic.

  Marek said, “I will have to translate because he claims to speak little English.” He dropped his voice. “The truth is, I suspect he can’t be bothered.” He started the engine and pulled away from the hotel and skirted the hill. “It’s a large area, over a square mile of excavations—and that is excluding the Pi-Ramesses site to the north.”

  Tariq directed Marek to drive along a farm track until they reached the canal that ran east of the hill. They crossed the canal and then a road to pick up a lane that started well, as it headed east, but became a track again as it bent north through cultivated land. After the bend, Tariq pointed vigorously to the right.

  Marek translated. “This is the site of the recently discovered giant palace. Our guide here calls it a citadel.” He pulled to a stop and the group got out. In the fields ahead, Alex could see ruins and clear signs of excavation.

  Tariq handed each of them a sheet of paper with a map, only the layout was nothing like what they were looking at here. On the diagram, a wide river ran south to the north-east corner of the page. Tell el-Daba was clearly marked but it was almost completely surrounded by water and Alex counted a further seven islands. A high proportion of the area had been under water, unlike now. The modern-day canal followed the line of the main river, but cut through the area they were now standing in.

  Tariq spoke and Marek then explained. “This palace was bordered to the east and north by water. The modern canal and road we crossed on the west now slice off one corner of the area.”

  Vanessa looked around. “Just how big was this palace?”

  After a discussion, Marek said, “It is actually complicated, as I’ll explain, but the outer wall is almost square, each side about three hundred yards long.”

  Tariq talked as he walked.

  Marek translated, “The old citadel is probably Twelfth Dynasty. The main buildings were limestone. On the ground you will see mud-brick pavements, typical of the period.” They stopped by a section of wall with straight lines painted on it, horizontal in blue, white and red. “Simple decoration,” Marek said. “They think the ceilings were probably more elaborately painted with hieroglyphs, because chunks with partials have been unearthed. Unfortunately, nothing complete enough to be interpreted.”

  Alex pointed to some columns. “Are these from a later period?”

  Marek grinned. “Yes, my friend, this is what we are looking for. This is New Kingdom.”

  SIXTY

  Tariq described the area in Arabic to Marek, who then relayed the message. “It is quite complicated here. The columns were for platforms. They’re New Kingdom—Eighteenth Dynasty—and where we are now was a smaller palace on stilts.”

  Tariq led them across an area without excavation and into the main ruins.

  Marek said, “The area we’ve crossed may have been a lake, or perhaps the stilts were due to flooding. Pumice from the eruption of Thera, the island now called Santorini, was found here and no doubt a tsunami followed. The buildings were an amazing seven metres off the ground!”

  They walked through the section Marek had been told was the main palace. Its length was almost the whole side of the enclosure and Alex paced out ninety-two strides for its width.

  Tariq pointed out part of the enclosure towards the end of the palace and said it had been a monumental doorway with pylons.

  Alex looked at Marek. “Pylons suggest a temple.”

  Marek asked and shook his head at the response. “The excavation team has found no evidence of a temple here. We have a large courtyard followed by walls running along the whole width. It’s unclear why they would have long thin rooms like that, but after six, the main dwelling seems to start. Behind the large palace, Tariq said, was another palace but, from the look of it, I think they’re administrative offices.”

  Alex said, “The orientation looks like it’s south-west to north-east, correct?”

  “Yes, but interestingly the later buildings were not aligned with the earlier ones. It’s as though the earlier giant palace was obliterated before the Eighteenth Dynasty palaces on platforms were built.”

  They had looped around with Tariq throwing in commentary and Marek translating the titbits.

  “What do you think?” Marek asked Alex as they reached the Nissan.

  “I think we should see all the sites first.”

  Marek spoke to the hotel owner and indicted they should get back in the car. “Next stop, a temple,” he said.

  They crossed the canal and headed north, just short of a modern village called Ezbet Rushdi South. Again the ruins were in a field.

  Marek translated as they got out. “This was the high point of the island north of Tell el-Daba and thought to have been a Twelfth Dynasty town centre.”

  Tariq led them through the field and pointed at the walls of a north-facing building. Alex estimated the entrance walls to be four metres thick and noted the blocks were limestone.

  “What makes Tariq say it’s Twelfth Dynasty?” he asked. “The construction looks older.”

  After a moment of questioning, Marek said that a fragment of a stele with Amenemhat the First’s Horus name on it had been discovered, however there was some doubt because the temple was cut into an older structure beneath.

  After the temple, they drove south over the hill to the southern edge of what would have been the island. They stopped by a large excavated area showing a network of stone walls and bricks.

  As they walked around, Alex noted many houses loosely scattered, like a village without any palace or temple. The lack of structure suggested a period much earlier than the New Kingdom he was interested in.

  Tariq kept talking and pointed out a number of tombs, but Alex waved his arms and signalled for them to return to the vehicle.

  Their next stop was on the top of the hill just above the hotel. Here the ground had never been cultivated and the excavation had uncovered large sections of wall. Tariq suggested the cluster of buildings comprised four temples. They started with the largest, which Alex paced out at twenty by thirty. He found the structure difficult to judge and the offering area, with its remnant of a stone alter, seemed less linear than the temple. Beyond this, Tariq pointed out a building to the left, after which he said there was a defence tower. On the right he indicated a small house.

  Alongside the large temple, Tariq said there was another temple, although Alex couldn’t make this out. Next to this was a cemetery.

  They walked north, through areas Tariq said were more cemeteries, until he came to the fourth temple. This was aligned with the others on the hill, and although fewer walls remained there was a clear similarity in design with the one on the adjacent island hill.

  They returned to the Nissan and Tariq asked if they wanted to see the next site—a small group of simple houses. Alex recognized the name of Amenemhat the Third as Tariq said it, and agreed they should take a look.

  When they stopped, Tariq didn’t get out of the car, and Marek translated. “At one stage this was under water. There has been limited excavation so there’s little to see. There may have been one palace here or a couple connected. Magnetometry has shown two large courtyards, one with rooms on one side, almost the mirror of the other. There was a fortified wall with a tower and possibly a staircase leading up to it.

  “How big are we talking?” Vanessa asked. She squinted out of the window as if trying to picture what Marek was relaying.

  “Not all of it is clear, but so far at least a thousand square yards. A fair size, but overall about a quarter of the size of the first palace area we saw.”

  “So that’s it then,” Alex said, feeling a little frustrated. He’d hoped the building they were looking for would have been obvious.

  “One more,” Marek said with a shrug. “Looks like our friend here doesn’t count this one.”

  They skirted a farm building and followed another track and
stopped at a T-junction. Ahead was a vast area of excavation with clear ruins. The sun was on the horizon, its lower part shimmering red as though melting into the land.

  They got out and Marek translated. “This area was on the edge of the hill overlooking the river and the citadel.”

  Alex said, “There’s a lattice of walls. What are we looking at here?”

  Marek translated then responded, “They are not totally sure. It appears to either be a large residence or a series of regular houses in rows within an enclosure.”

  “Twelve in a row,” Vanessa said, having walked along the line. “Do they know how many rows?”

  Marek said, “No, and there’s an interesting structure in the north-east corner. It could be a tower, but the foundations are partial.”

  “Eighteenth Dynasty?”

  Tariq waved his hand, indicating maybe.

  “So that’s it,” Marek said. “Any insights, Alex?”

  “Could I get a more detailed map of the three sites that could be from the New Kingdom? The first, this one, and the cluster of four temples near the hotel?”

  Marek spoke with Tariq and said they should go back to the hotel. The light would soon fade and the owner had some charts that could be useful. “Although it’ll undoubtedly cost us some more,” Marek added with a rueful shrug.

  In his hotel room, Alex studied the detailed diagrams provided by the owner. He’d expected a temple to be orientated east–west like Akhenaten’s, but not one of the temples was like that. The group of four nearest the hotel interested him the most. He studied the layout. There was something that he couldn’t put his finger on.

  He took a break from staring at the outlines and thought about the symbols written on Meryra’s Map-Stone.

  He decided to browse the Internet for inspiration, although it took him fifteen minutes to work out how to sign on using the prepaid dongle because it was in Arabic. When he finally gained access, he logged onto Ellen’s secure site about the Map-Stone.

  He studied the images and sketched them. As he looked at the throne he noticed a mark. Could there be a symbol missing in front of the throne? Changing the order had provided the location of the ancient city, but there was still the mysterious throne. Alex knew the symbol was often associated with Isis, but he had known enough to realize it was a separate clue within the code he’d shared with Marek. He looked at the image in a number of photographs. None of Ellen’s drawings had the mark, but he was sure it was there. It wasn’t an indentation or a natural discolouration of the stone. Either it had been deliberately painted and faded or it was a mark added at some later point.

  He drew it and wondered whether the symbol could be a disc that represented Ra. He searched the Internet for anything similar and came up blank. He then decided to research the three-four-five triangle. He spent twenty minutes reading nothing new about the golden triangle, when the term golden rectangle appeared in an article.

  Alex sat back as though poleaxed. That was it! He read some more and then studied the map of the excavations. Certain he’d found it, he traced out a simple version of one of the temples: Temple IV.

  Drawing only the foundations, he saw it immediately: the Isis throne was clearly part of the structure. The plan showed that the bottom right corner was subtly based on her throne. The dot on the Map-Stone appeared to correspond to the object Marek had assumed was a building sign. From the foundation diagram it looked like one of two pillars.

  Excited, he texted Vanessa:

  It’s the temple closest to the hotel!

  As he put down his phone he remembered to check the email from Mutnodjemet. He clicked on it and saw there was no message, just a link. He followed that and a new window opened with a private posted message. As he started to read, his heart seized.

  Didn’t you know? Marek was found dead in his flat in Cairo. Suicide, the report said, with foul play ruled out. Strange, I can’t find the link now. Could someone have removed it?

  SIXTY-ONE

  Marek wasn’t who he claimed to be.

  The room phone rang.

  “Alex”—it was Vanessa—“are you coming down for dinner?”

  He could hear noises in the background. Could Marek—whoever he was—overhear? “Are you alone?” Alex eventually asked.

  “No, Marek and Ahmed are here. We’ve been waiting for you.”

  “Don’t react to what I say.”

  “What?”

  That reaction in itself may alert the imposter. His head was spinning. How could he say this?

  “Look, sorry, tell them I’ve got whatever they call Montezuma’s revenge. I’m not feeling well. Tell Marek I’m not well. Say I’ll be all right after a good night’s sleep. OK?”

  “Alex…?”

  He repeated the instruction and ended the call.

  At 3am he packed his things and rang Vanessa’s room.

  “Alex, what’s going on?”

  “Get dressed. I’m coming to your room.”

  She said something, but he didn’t listen as he put the phone down. As quietly as he could, he opened the bedroom door and stepped out into the dimly lit corridor. He placed a pen between the door and jamb so that it wouldn’t slam closed and took a step. The floor creaked slightly. He stopped and listened.

  Nothing.

  He stepped again, and again. Slow and hesitant. Three more paces and he was at Marek’s door. Here he paused, took deep breaths and stepped past. Beyond the door he listened again. From somewhere in the hotel the low rumble of snoring reached his ears. Alex hoped it was Marek.

  He walked forward, still slowly, trying to glide over the rugs. At a corner he turned and five more steps put him outside Vanessa’s room. He knocked on the door, gently, but in the still of the night it sounded loud.

  No response.

  He was about to knock again when he thought better of it. He took out his phone and texted her. Open your door. I’m outside. Quiet!

  The wait seemed interminably long but, just as he thought he would have to knock again, sounds of movement came from the other side.

  She opened the door a crack and he immediately pushed into the room, took the handle from her and closed it. He winced as it clunked shut and then turned to Vanessa. She was in her pyjamas.

  “Vanessa!” he whispered, hearing frustration and urgency in his own voice.

  She walked backwards to the bed, sat and patted it.

  “Get dressed now!” Alex whispered again. “We need to get away. I was right about Marek.”

  “Alex…”

  He waved at her to speak quietly.

  “Alex…” She patted the bed again. “I think you should calm down. I’m worried about you.”

  “No, no! Look—” He pulled out his laptop and showed her the email from Mutnodjemet. Then the second message with the link. “I was right not to trust him. All those signs that he didn’t know everything. That really isn’t Marek.”

  She shook her head as if trying to process what he was saying. “But the message doesn’t give any details. How do you know this isn’t just a windup? Or maybe this is a conspiracy nut. Maybe they’re just as paranoid…”

  He held her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “I’m convinced. I’m telling you there have been too many inconsistencies. And today, at the first temple, there was a partial stele—the stone with writing. That’s Marek’s specialization, for God’s sake! It was only this evening I realized he should have been interested even though it’s nothing to do with why we’re here.”

  Vanessa stood. “All right, we’ll get out of here.” She dressed quickly and Alex helped her cram things into her case.

  As she closed it, he said, “We should go to the police. Agreed?”

  She nodded.

  “There’s no chance of a taxi, so we’ll have to take the Nissan. I guess we’ll need to hot-wire it.”

  “It’s been a while, but I should be able to.”

  He was astounded.

  She grinned. “The wrong crowd and a mi
sspent youth, remember?”

  They crept out into the corridor and he did the same trick to stop the door slamming shut. They walked lightly in the opposite direction of Marek’s room, down a flight of stairs and into a lounge area. Most of the lights here were out and there was no one around, no night porter and no receptionist. Finally, they needed to cross the foyer before they would reach the front door.

  Alex wondered whether a small hotel like this would lock the front door at night. But when he reached for the handle, it turned and the door opened easily.

  Outside the air was cool. They stood and scanned for movement. In the moon’s creamy light everything appeared tranquil. Nothing stirred. The Nissan was parked only fifteen metres away. There was no cover, but no one was around. With an exchange of nods, Alex and Vanessa started towards it.

  A man stepped out from beside the vehicle, his handgun pointed at the centre of Alex’s chest. The light caught his face and Alex knew then that it was the man from the BMW and the tomb, the man who had grabbed Pete from the train.

  There was a noise behind them. Alex spun around to see Marek approach.

  Marek smiled and pointed his gun at Vanessa’s head. “Drop the bags,” he said, his voice shockingly loud in the still night.

  Vanessa let go of her case and put down her handbag. Alex let his bag fall to the floor.

  “On your knees. Hands behind your backs.”

  They knelt.

  The blow to the back of Alex’s head was immediate. He crumpled, his world suddenly black.

  SIXTY-TWO

  As Alex came round, he had flashes of images and for a few minutes he was confused. Then he became aware of being uncomfortable, the air was warm and it was hard to breathe. Cigarette smoke. His hands and feet were tied.

  He opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the back of a seat. He was squashed on the floor in the back of a big vehicle, possibly a four-by-four. Awkwardly and gradually, he manoeuvred into a kneeling position and then fell sideways onto the seat and sat up.