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

by Murray Bailey

Alex had been squatting and now scuttled backwards, the man’s gun remaining fixedly pointed at his chest. Joachim said something else but Alex wasn’t listening. He stared at Vanessa in disbelief.

  “You’re working with them?”

  Vanessa’s eyes briefly met his and then she moved, stepping between the two men.

  She said, “Let him go.” Not a question, but a command.

  Joachim said nothing and smiled.

  “There’ve been enough deaths over this. I did this on the understanding he would be allowed to live. Gershom guaranteed it.”

  Alex stood and came up behind her, reducing the opportunity for Joachim to shoot him. Vanessa sensed him there and edged right. Alex edged with her. This gave Joachim the chance to see the papyri in the chest. Still with his gun aimed through Vanessa at Alex, he sidestepped to the chest. He removed a bag from his shoulder, placed it on the floor and then dipped into the papyri-filled chest. Removing a scroll, he used one hand and the edge of the box to partially unroll it.

  “Shine your torch,” he snapped at Vanessa. When she aimed it close by, he briefly glanced at the document, dropped it and looked at another.

  Vanessa said, “Is that more explosive in the bag?”

  “Don’t worry, there’s plenty of time for us to get out safely.”

  Instinctively he’d glanced at the bag as he spoke. That was when Vanessa kicked out. A shower of debris and a chunk of stone flew from her foot towards Joachim. He dropped into a squat and fired the gun, but the shot was wild.

  Vanessa was already pulling Alex to the doorway. As she moved she kicked out at an upright.

  Joachim shouted and fired again. This time Vanessa grunted. She lunged at the upright and immediately the ceiling began to cave in.

  Alex grabbed her arm. He pulled and they tumbled into the corridor. Dust blasted up the corridor, showering them. The ceiling began to crack. A stanchion creaked and snapped.

  Alex pulled Vanessa to her feet and helped her up the corridor as it began to crumble. The torch picked out Vanessa’s white chalk marks easily and they hurried through the lower level and then the first level of the maze. When they reached the top they staggered up the final steps and collapsed onto the ground.

  Alex lay panting and looking up at the stars. Beside him Vanessa stood and looked in the direction of the temple. A man leaning heavily on a walking stick stood not ten paces away.

  Alex made himself stand. In the pale moonlight it took a moment to recognize the old man. “Uncle Seth!”

  “Not really,” Gershom said, his voice as thick as liquid tar. “Cat, where’s Joachim?”

  Alex heard Vanessa answer that the other man had been crushed by the collapse of the burial chamber. So this was it. No more lucky escapes. He looked at Vanessa. Her arm was slick with blood.

  “Vanessa, you were shot!” Alex tore a sleeve off his shirt and tied a tourniquet above the wound. She put her other arm over his shoulder for support and he put an arm around her. Suddenly nothing else seemed to matter. Together they walked out of the trough.

  Alex and Vanessa stopped two paces short of the old man.

  Gershom said, “Was the evidence there?”

  “Yes. And Joachim laid the explosive.” Vanessa looked long and hard at the old man. “He tried to kill us. You promised—”

  “What did he see?” the old man said, referring to Alex.

  “Nothing. The chamber collapsed.”

  The old man nodded. “Then I say there will be no more deaths,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  “But nothing incriminating can be allowed to leave this place.”

  Vanessa kissed Alex on the cheek and hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly into his ear. “I had to do it—but something changed. I really fell for you, please remember that.” Then she broke the embrace and handed him the keys to the Land Rover.

  Gershom checked his watch. “We need to get going before the explosion. And you, young lady, need a doctor.”

  Alex walked slowly towards the farm buildings and, like an automaton, got into the car. He covered the first few miles in a daze and couldn’t recall the route he’d taken. He had the window down, elbow on the frame, the fresh air blowing hard against his arm. It felt like a bad dream. He leaned out and let the rushing air blast his face, waking him up. He thought he heard a dull explosion, but it came and went so quickly he was left wondering.

  He turned onto the dual carriageway, pressed the accelerator and headed for Cairo. He found a radio channel playing rock and settled back for the journey, his mind spinning with everything that had happened. Everything he’d seen. He no longer had the evidence, but Vanessa had helped him. Did she know? Of course she knew. He might not have the evidence, but she knew he had taken photographs.

  He knew the secret.

  SIXTY-SEVEN

  Fifteen months later

  Abubakar Habib sucked his teeth. “Show me again the area of your planned excavation.”

  Alex took a deep breath. This had already been approved by the Ministry of Antiquities, but he had quickly learned how things worked in Egypt. There was no point in arguing, that would only aggravate matters. This minor local official either wanted power and respect or money—or perhaps both.

  Alex called to his assistant. “Mahmood, please make the inspector a cup of your best coffee.”

  A young Nubian man waved from the next room and there were soon sounds of a pot on the small gas cooker they all shared.

  Alex pulled out the approved documents and looked at the diagram of the four hundred square metre patch in the northern hills of Amarna. Some tombs of nobles were known to be there, but this location had yielded nothing in the past.

  Inspector Habib marked the areas of other excavations and also the area where peasants’ graves had been found in the plain. “These are not your areas.”

  “I agree.”

  Habib pointed at the area Alex was interested in. “There is nothing here.” He sucked on his teeth for a moment as though thinking. “Which team did you say you are with?”

  Again, Alex pulled out the relevant papers. “Macquarie University, headed by Professor Steele. The permit is for one year.”

  Mahmood, the Nubian assistant, scurried in with a small steaming cup of Egyptian coffee. He nodded encouragement to Alex, who returned his smile.

  Habib tasted the coffee without comment and set it down. “You will not enter any tomb you find, is that understood?”

  “Not without you being present.”

  “If you find anything at all it must be recorded. I will make visits. If I find any item not recorded, your permit will be revoked. Any items and that is it. No more digging.”

  “Understood.”

  “You and your team are staying on the site?”

  “We are staying in caravans. We will not leave Tell el-Amarna without notifying you.”

  “Good. When you and your team come and go, you will tell me first. I must know when you leave. If someone comes or goes and you don’t tell me, then that is it also. No more digging.”

  The inspector went over the details of the permit once again before he finished his coffee. Alex was surprised there was no suggestion of money to be paid, but he knew this was just the beginning.

  When he was alone again, he sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. It felt much longer than fifteen months. So much had happened. He had checked into a hotel at Cairo airport and flown back to England the following day. He had returned to his flat in Maida Vale without any media attention and caught up on the news. There had been a couple of students murdered, one of which had caught the public’s attention because of the mystery surrounding the girl’s final movements. And so the attention moved away from Alex and the Highclere burglary.

  He felt a mixture of elation and disappointment. He had made an incredible discovery and yet he knew it wouldn’t be believed. The photographs didn’t prove it was Nefertiti’s tomb at Tell el-Daba. The destruction of part of the hi
ll at the ancient site was reported in the local press as a gas explosion. Alex realized that claiming to have discovered the tomb would create unwanted media attention. Another gas explosion. Ellen’s death and now the destruction of an ancient site. He could imagine the headlines and the hounding. No, it wasn’t worth it.

  Alex had searched for the Brotherhood of Levi on the Internet. There was limited information on the group and a conspiracy theory suggested they had senior roles in all Western governments, controlling and censoring, and actively ensured information about them was destroyed. Alex noted that Levi in the Bible was a son of Jacob whose three sons had responded when Moses felt betrayed by his people. In Exodus, while Moses was on Mount Sinai, the Israelites turned to Aaron, a high priest who created a golden calf for the people to worship. In retribution, the sons of Levi killed three thousand of the followers in punishment for turning to other gods. It followed that a modern group would have the same aims.

  The golden calf was undoubtedly a bull which was an incarnation of Ra—the sun god. It made sense. While Moses was away, the Israelites returned to worshipping the sun. Maybe this also confirmed that they had come from Akhenaten’s city and the worship of the sun by the name of the Aten. Alex was convinced that Aten and Ra were one and the same.

  He also knew now that the god of Moses was definitely not the sun god. It was another god entirely. A rival god. A god whose true identity the Brotherhood was clearly determined to erase from their history.

  During the first few days Alex reviewed the photographs and sketched what he had seen. Because of the dim light, the photographs were poor, but he managed to reconstruct most of it to his satisfaction. He also began to write potential academic papers that avoided reference to the missing papyri and Judaism, but focused on what might have become of Akhenaten and his queen.

  In the second week he was amazed to receive an email from Vanessa saying her wound was healing well and she had finished the article about him.

  The article had changed his life. Its publication in a Sunday paper coincided with him finding the item missing from the exhibition. Now that all the pressure was off, he was able to think clearly, able to revisit Highclere Castle and look at the exhibition through Ellen’s eyes. What would he have done if he knew the Map-Stone would be stolen. She wasn’t strong so she couldn’t carry it far. She also couldn’t take it past a camera.

  Alex found it under the four canopic jars in Tutankhamen’s mock burial chamber. No one had noticed the jars were a little higher than they used to be.

  He had published his paper on the theory that Akhenaten’s tomb had been moved and coincided with where the Amarna Letters had originally lain.

  On the back of his paper, he managed to persuade Professor Steele to support a dig at Amarna. Officially he wasn’t leading the group, but that didn’t matter. He was here.

  There was no doubt in his mind that the Map-Stone had been meant for Akhenaten’s spirit so that he might know where his beloved wife was interred. Perhaps there had been a similar guide in Nefertiti’s tomb ensuring they could be reunited for all eternity. A little like the physical link between Senemut’s and Pharaoh Hatshepsut’s tombs.

  Lord Carnarvon had found the ceremonial stone. If it had come from Akhenaten’s burial chamber, then the tomb had already been disturbed. Perhaps the Amarna Letters had also originated in the hidden tomb of the heretic pharaoh.

  After the initial exchange of emails with Vanessa, he heard nothing more. Now and again he would read an article by her and he guessed she was travelling the world. Her association with Alex and Egyptology gave her credibility that seemed to extend to other ancient civilisations—but always from the human angle. Her latest piece had been on a temple hidden in the jungles of Cambodia. Alex didn’t doubt for a moment that she was physically there.

  He went into the kitchen and made himself a cup of Earl Grey tea, black. He returned to his desk and relaxed, the scent of the tea wafting away the stressful meeting with the local antiquities official. Was this how Carter and Carnarvon used to feel about them? He suspected it was worse in the mid-1920s because of the political tensions between Britain and Egypt, and in the Middle East generally. The changing rules of discovery and reward must have been infuriating to the two men who spent so long and so much trying to find the boy king’s tomb. Their expedition had started because Carter had found evidence suggesting Tutankhamen’s tomb was in the Valley of the Kings. The many similarities made Alex smile.

  He opened a drawer and looked at the papers he had compiled since returning from Nefertiti’s tomb. He understood the sensitivity of what he’d seen, but it didn’t make total sense. Was it really enough to kill over?

  He picked up the most intriguing. It was a series of colourful circles with names in them. At the time it meant nothing, but a little investigation proved intriguing. The diagram was known as the Tree of Life, part of the Jewish Kabbalah. The very name was a clue since both the ancient Egyptians and the Jews had a Tree of Life. The ancient Egyptian tree was from the story of Osiris, whose coffin was saved from the river by catching in the tree’s roots. Effectively, the tree was the doorway to the afterlife.

  Alex had learned that, in Judaism, the Tree of Life was used to explain many things from religion to psychology. The relevance to Sigmund Freud was not lost on him. The circles represented characteristics and also archangels. It was the latter that Alex found most interesting, because the papyrus had names written beside them. For Alex it was conclusive evidence that Judaism was based on the ancient Egyptian religion. There were ten interconnected circles on the paper in three columns. Three circles were on each outside column and four in the middle one. There was an eleventh black circle midway between the first triangle of circles and its mirror image below.

  Alex couldn’t reproduce the writing well enough to be absolutely sure, but it was close. The nine main gods of Egypt, the Ennead were: Shu, Tefnut, Geb, Nut, Osiris, Isis, Seth, Nephthys and of course Ra, known by many names, probably including Aten. Alex had written each of these names on the paper. Each god equated with a Jewish archangel. That left the one at the bottom, which represented Kingdom. And the black one, which represented Da’at—the void. The first was easy. Alex had written Pharaoh/Horus because the association was clear and Horus was the representation of the living god. Finally, against the black circle he had written Amun. Amun was the hidden one, and it seemed to tally, although Amun was not of the Ennead. He was the god Akhenaten had disapproved of but had been reinstated after his death and later merged with Ra. Amun’s role within the Tree of Life seemed to make sense.

  Mahmood disturbed Alex’s thoughts, looking sheepishly into the room.

  “I’m sorry, Mahmood, what did you say?”

  “Mr Alex, there is a phone call.”

  Mahmood held out the satellite phone shared by the group.

  “Hello.”

  “Alex? It’s me.”

  “Vanessa?” Her pen name was Rebecca but her real name was Cat, short for Catherine. Even though he knew this, in his mind she would always be Vanessa. She didn’t seem to mind him calling her that.

  “Well done on getting the position and licence to dig.”

  Her voice sounded so great. He felt a thrill run through him. There had been so much left unsaid.

  “Vanessa, I—”

  “Things have changed, Alex. I’ve changed. My uncle died a couple of months ago and—”

  “Seth? He was really your uncle?”

  “Gershom. Yes he was. He was kind of a father to me after my parents died. He left me all of the details about being High Priest. He had planned for Joachim to take over but something must have changed his mind.”

  “As a woman, could you—?”

  “Not officially, but the Brotherhood of Levi was a law unto itself.” She sighed. “However I’ve broken all ties with them. And without a high priest they can’t exist anyway.”

  “Are you saying things will now change about disclosing the links between Egypti
an religion and Judaism. That the Jewish God is in fact made up of multiple gods—the archangels?”

  Vanessa sounded surprised. “No I am not! Anyway it wasn’t that. I thought you’d worked it out. You realized Sigmund Freud had an ulterior motive when he suggested Akhenaten was the founder of monotheism—the worship of the sun.”

  “Do you mean… are you suggesting it was a distraction from something much worse?”

  “In some people’s eyes, yes.”

  And then Alex got it. “It was Osiris not Ra.”

  “Moses was the high priest of Osiris. You were right about the name. He was known as Osarseph or Osar-moses.”

  “The god of the afterlife. A revered god. And husband to Isis. It seems appropriate that he would be the one.”

  “The people fled Amarna when Pharaoh Akhenaten died. I don’t know whether Nefertiti was ever Pharaoh, but she led her people to the sanctuary of the Delta. Moses was her high priest and at some point Akhenaten was viewed as Osiris and Nefertiti their Isis.”

  Alex nodded to himself, remembering the mural on the tunnel to the burial chamber.

  Vanessa said, “I don’t know how soon after arriving that Nefertiti died, but it seems her death precipitated the persecution of her people, the Ibiru. And so Moses led them to Israel.”

  “Wow!” Alex whistled. “What about the missing papyri. There really were papyri in Tutankhamen’s tomb weren’t there?”

  “Yes.”

  Alex recalled the story from the clay tablets. Meryra had wanted the truth told. “So the papyri were too sensitive. Lord Carnarvon had them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was he murdered?”

  “Apparently, he refused to give them up. You were right. The Brotherhood had him poisoned. So they got the documents and destroyed them.”

  “What about Howard Carter?”

  “He had nothing. Carnarvon had the evidence. Carter feared for his life most of the time and his threat to the House of Rothschild was just bluster. They knew it, but it was an insignificant price for them to pay for his silence.”