by Tony Evans
Chapter 3
Later that day, as the dull November afternoon shaded imperceptibly into dusk, I sat in Professor Van Helsing’s comfortable drawing room together with that gentleman and my wife. We had of course told Mina everything about the ghastly events in Islington, which she heard with remarkable calmness. Not for the first time I speculated that our experiences in Transylvania had made her more than usually resilient to such horrors.
Before Van Helsing and I had taken our leave of Inspector Delland, we had suggested that he call on us at four o’clock, in order to receive Miss Wilton’s expert opinion of the weapon used to decapitate Flinzer. I had made a detailed sketch of the deadly object, as Delland had wished that the sword should remain securely locked in the strongroom. On our way back from Theodore Flinzer’s house, the Professor and I had left a message at University College for Sarah Wilton asking her to join us for afternoon tea.
When Sarah arrived, Van Helsing told her all about the horrible events at the home of Mr and Mrs Flinzer. She appeared shocked, but perhaps not as surprised as might have been expected. I took out my pocketbook and passed it to her, open at the page of my sketch of the sickle. She studied it for some minutes and placed it on a small side table where Mina, Van Helsing and I could see it.
‘The provenance of this relic is in no doubt,’ Sarah said. ‘It is an Ancient Egyptian sickle sword, known as a khopesh. This particular example is a ceremonial version, used in certain religious rituals and buried with the pharaoh in his tomb so that he could defend himself if attacked by evil spirits. The design on the hilt’ – she leant forward and touched the sketch – ‘is that of a scarab beetle, a powerful talisman intended to attract good luck. Such symbols were never found on the ordinary weapons of this type used for warfare. However, the fact that this khopesh is ceremonial does not make it any less deadly. In a well-trained hand it would be capable of inflicting horrible damage – such as the injuries sustained by the corpse you discovered in Theodore Flinzer’s house.’
Mina picked up my pocketbook to examine the sketch more closely. ‘Tell me Miss Wilton, do you think there are many people alive today who would have expertise in the handling of such a weapon?’ she asked. ‘I assume it’s not been used in warfare for several thousand years.’
As my wife spoke, I could see both anxiety and indecision in Sarah’s expression. She stared first at the floor, then glanced up at Professor Van Helsing, as if seeking his intervention.
‘Miss Wilton,’ the Professor said softly, ‘I really think that we must be frank with Mr and Mrs Harker, given what has happened to poor Flinzer.’
Sarah drew in her breath. ‘You are right, of course, Professor.’ She turned towards Mina and I. ‘I must offer you an apology. I thought that it might be possible to prevent the sale and dispersal of the contents of the tomb without revealing my late father’s concerns, but clearly that is not now possible. I also owe an apology to Professor Van Helsing; he promised to say nothing about my father’s discovery, but I should not have asked him to conceal anything from you both, who I know are his closest friends.’
‘You are not to blame yourself,’ Van Helsing said. ‘You were acting for the best. However, I now suggest that you tell Jonathan and Mina your father’s story. Inspector Delland is not due to join us for another thirty minutes.’
Sarah nodded. ‘Very well. Professor, I believe that you still have Sir Edward’s journal?’
Van Helsing left the room and returned a few moments later with a large leather-bound volume, the size of a ledger-book. Its cover was mottled and faded in patches, as if it had been exposed to extremes of weather.
‘I have read it, as you requested,’ he said to Sarah. ‘And I believe that you are right to be concerned.’
She took the book from him, found the page she sought and laid it open upon a low table in front of Mina and I. ‘This is my father’s journal,’ she said. ‘In it he kept a private record of all his archaeological investigations. The relevant entry is here.’
The confidential journal of Sir Edward Wilton FRS: 14th February 1886, Valley of the Kings, Egypt.
It is now two weeks since I and the other members of my expedition made our remarkable discovery of the Tomb of Karnos II. I have not revealed the ingenious method that I used to locate the entrance, although Dr Samos may suspect: he has questioned me closely about the dirigible flights I undertook last month. It will not surprise me if I learn that he, too, intends to take to the air on his next expedition.
As the leader of our party and the most qualified to interpret the hieroglyphics of the New Kingdom period, it has fallen to me to decipher the stone tablet found between the two sarcophagi. For the last twelve hours it has lain here in my tent, whilst I have laboured with pen, ink and books of reference to assist in its interpretation.
The troubling and unexpected nature of the inscription is not altogether a surprise to me. It is most unusual to find such tablets located next to the remains of the pharaoh and his queen, in a place normally reserved for the food and drink intended to sustain the royal couple on their journey into the afterlife. The tablet’s positioning in this way suggested some great importance is attached to it – as indeed has proved to be the case.
The precise rendering of Ancient Egyptian writing into modern nineteenth century English is fraught with difficulties, and the transcription below should be seen as a mere approximation to the original hieroglyphics, which have a peculiarly sinister import impossible to describe.
“Let any mortal who has entered this holy place take heed: here lie the preserved bodies of the noble departed: the god Anubis, Lord of the Underworld and Protector of the Dead; and the grave goods to sustain their journey. All that is within the sacred circle must remain together forever, and any who separate these relics will be destroyed utterly.”
These words are followed by a succession of symbols that are not capable of being translated into words, but which are associated with the most powerful incantations used by the priesthood of Ancient Egypt, the potency of which I have myself experienced.
Fortunately the reference to the “sacred circle” is very clear. When we opened the tomb, the centre of the burial chamber had been demarcated with a circle of powdered green quartz, and the most valuable items had been placed within it.
Despite the evident – and to my mind, all too real – threat implied in this powerful curse, I do believe that there is a way to remove the tomb objects in relative safety. It is my opinion that provided the relics are kept close to each other, then the priestly incantation will not take effect: that is, it is not removal from the tomb but separation of the objects from each other which might cause terrible danger.
It is not my intention to reveal the meaning of the inscription to the other members of my expedition. Either they will laugh at the warning and disobey it, or they will believe it and refuse to offer me any further assistance. Instead I shall tell them that the tablet is merely a prayer for the dead, which I will invent accordingly. None of my fellow explorers are capable of translating the hieroglyphics without a good deal of study, and I will make sure that they have no opportunity to do so.
Fortunately the generous legacy I have received from my American relative will allow me to charter a cargo vessel in which to return the grave goods to England together in one hold. I will put them on public display for a brief period – to do anything else would arouse too much suspicion – and then keep the items found within the quartz circle together at my country house in Dorset, where they will be accessible for scholarly study by myself and others.
There is of course the possibility that the actions that I have planned will invoke the spell inscribed on the tablet and lead to my destruction. If that is the case, I trust that as the instigator of their removal I will be the only victim.
When I had finished reading the page from the Egyptologist’s journal, I turned to his daughter. ‘Tell me, Miss Wilton, did your father keep an inventory of the tomb items which he kept sec
urely in Dorset?’
Sarah frowned. ‘Father did keep a record of all the items in the collection: they were listed in a small leather bound notebook, which he kept with him at all times. As you might imagine, I have made a thorough search, but it is nowhere to be found. I’ve come to the conclusion that before he left on his fatal expedition to the Nile Delta he must have given the notebook to Theodore Flinzer for safekeeping.’
I placed my finger under a line of text in Sir Edward’s journal. ‘It seems clear from this document that your father took the inscription’s warning very seriously. He seems to refer to some personal experience of such matters.’
Sarah nodded. ‘That is true. It is not something that we ever discussed, but I have heard that in his younger days one of his associates was involved in a terrifying and inexplicable episode inside the Pyramid of Khufu, and that the events made a great impression on my father. However, Mr Harker, now that you have read my father’s document, and seen for yourself the terrible fate of Mr Flinzer, how do you think we should proceed?’
I thought carefully for a moment. ‘I believe that we should be frank with Inspector Delland, and tell him all we know about the khopesh and the inscription that Sir Edward Wilton discovered. After all, we cannot be sure that the knowledge of the curse was limited to Sir Edward and his daughter. It is just conceivable that a common – or, should I say, uncommon – criminal might seek to use that knowledge to divert attention from an all too human murder.’
*
My wife, Sarah and the Professor were in agreement with my proposal, and so, not long after Inspector Delland joined us, we had told him all we knew about the weapon used to decapitate Flinzer, and the inscription discovered by Sir Edward Wilton.
After hearing our account in silence Delland took a sip of his tea and put down his cup. ‘Firstly, can I thank you for your most helpful identification of the, er, khopesh.’ He paused to scribble the word down in his notebook. ‘The unfortunate victim is certainly Flinzer. We already had evidence of a distinguishing mark – a scar – and when we’d reunited the head with the body, both Mrs Flinzer and the valet, Simpkins, were able to swear it was Flinzer’s corpse.’
Mina helped herself to more cake. ‘Tell me, Inspector, have you yet formed a theory about this dreadful crime? Do you believe that the spirit of Karnos – or his protectors – has returned to take revenge on the art dealer? Or is that too outré a conclusion for the Metropolitan Police?
Delland looked at her shrewdly. ‘It’s an unusual case, Mrs Harker – although I’m aware that you and your husband, and of course the Professor, are not unacquainted with the bizarre and outlandish. In the circumstances I’m happy to share my thoughts on the matter. And of course Miss Wilton is an expert in important aspects of this case, so I’d value her opinion.’
Sarah nodded in acknowledgement as the detective continued.
‘I see little reason to suspect that any abnormal powers are at work here. The Professor and Mr Harker have already told me that Flinzer had started selling off the contents of the tomb that he’d inherited from the late Sir Edward Wilton. Nothing illegal about that, but Flinzer was known to us at the Yard as rather a fly cove. We think several stolen paintings have gone through his hands, but nothing’s ever been proved. Suppose he’d taken one of his less honest colleagues into his strongroom, perhaps to agree a price for the relics, and there’d been a falling-out between them. His companion could have picked up the weapon and used it on Flinzer.’
I held up my hand. ‘If I may interject, Inspector, why would this theoretical assailant then haul the corpse all the way back to the bedroom, and leave its head in the strongroom? Why not just make a run for it there and then?’
‘Well sir, as I see it there are several possibilities. I think it most likely that the murderer did remove the body and intend to return for the head, perhaps in an attempt to separate the crime from any association with the strongroom, and hence the world of art dealers. Then something disturbed him – a real or imagined noise, perhaps – and he had to leave the head where it was.’
‘What about the bloodstains?’ Van Helsing said. ‘There was a large amount of blood on the bedroom carpet, and very little around the head in the strongroom. Surely if the murder had occurred in the way you suggest, the opposite would be the case.’
‘That’s a good point, Professor,’ Delland replied. ‘But supposing the assailant had cleaned up the blood in the strongroom, in order to conceal the true location of the crime – that is, before he knew that the head would be left behind to give the game away? I agree that my theory is not ideal, but then I’ve hardly started my investigation.’
At that point there was a knock on the drawing room door and Van Helsing’s housekeeper entered, closely followed by a police constable. I recognised the officer as one of the two who had been on duty at Flinzer’s house earlier in the day.
‘Beg pardon, sir, but I thought I should show Constable Jeffries up right away. Says he has something urgent for the inspector.’
‘Thank you, Hilda, you may leave us,’ Van Helsing said. ‘Inspector Delland, do you wish to speak to your man in private?’
The detective demurred, and PC Jeffries soon explained the purpose of his visit. Less than an hour ago a telegram had arrived addressed to Mr Theodore Flinzer. Jeffries, on duty with his colleague, had decided on his own initiative to bring it straight to his superior, who he knew to be taking tea with us.
‘You’ve done well Jeffries. Wait in the hall for me – we’ll go back to Islington together.’
Delland swiftly scanned the telegram, then passed it to each of us in turn.
To Mr Theodore Flinzer: from Dr Harold Levin, Curator, Edinburgh Museum of Ethnography: Monday November 9th 1897.
‘Sent today,’ I thought. As I read it, I was gripped by a sense of foreboding.
Returned to Edinburgh yesterday after short absence. Discovered wooden crate marked as containing sickle sword had been delivered Friday November 5th. Broke seal to find crate empty. Please check that it was sent to me as we arranged. If so I will report the disappearance as theft.
Delland sat down heavily in his armchair and shook his head. ‘Dear me,’ he said. ‘This case gets stranger by the minute. Why can’t I have a nice stabbing in a Limehouse public house to investigate, with a dozen witnesses and a quick confession? It’s clear from this telegram that Flinzer must have sold the khopesh to the Edinburgh Museum. So why didn’t it arrive?’
‘It might be that it was never packed,’ Mina suggested. ‘If one of Flinzer’s servants had been given the task, they may have kept the sword, hoping to sell it themselves.’
Delland shook his head. ‘Possible, but hardly likely. Such a theft would be certain to be discovered when Dr Levin opened the case. And as Flinzer would know who had been told to post it, suspicion would immediately fall on the thief. I think it’s far more likely that the khopesh was abstracted after it left the house – perhaps whilst in the parcel sorting office – with the intention of using it to kill Flinzer.’
Van Helsing coughed gently. ‘That seems an over-elaborate way to obtain a murder weapon. A visit to a cutler’s shop would be far more straightforward. But suppose there were a pair of such objects amongst the tomb items? That would mean that a thief could have stolen it in Edinburgh, or en route. Then – coincidentally – the murderer could have picked up its fellow in the strongroom.’
Sarah Wilton shook her head. ‘That’s highly unlikely. I know of no cases where more than one khopesh would be provided in a single tomb.’
Delland frowned. ‘I’ll start by questioning everyone in the Flinzer household, to see exactly how the sword was dispatched. I don’t think we can discover any more until then.’
‘Let me make a suggestion, Inspector,’ I said. ‘I propose that you agree that for, shall we say, the next seven days, the tomb items are kept locked away in Flinzer’s strongroom. Of course when – or if – the murderer is apprehended, I quite see that the khopesh will
at some stage have to appear in court, which will necessarily mean that it is separated from the rest of the artefacts. However, with all due respect to your powers of detection, that is unlikely to happen within a week. You will of course be conducting your usual examination of such a case – interviewing Flinzer’s business associates and such like. At the same time, with your permission, my friends and I will indulge our more outlandish theories.’
Delland got to his feet. ‘Agreed!’ he said with a smile. ‘On one condition: should the three of you discover anything that might be pertinent to this case, I’d like you to let me know immediately. And I, in turn, will inform you if I arrest the culprit.’
‘Inspector, are you sure that the tomb objects will be safe at Flinzer’s house?’ I asked.
‘As safe as if they were taken to Scotland Yard,’ he replied. ‘I have arranged for a constable to be stationed outside the house day and night whilst the relics remain there. They are of course very securely locked away. Also, Mrs Flinzer has insisted on remaining in residence.’
‘She must be a strong-minded lady,’ Mina observed.
‘Indeed, Mrs Harker. She does seem to have coped with her husband’s ghastly demise remarkably well. Of course, it helps that she’s a healthy young woman with a strong constitution. I understand that her late husband was her senior by sixteen years.’
*
Inspector Delland declined our suggestion that he should join us for dinner, on the very reasonable grounds that, despite his onerous duties, his wife still expected to see him on occasion. When he had left us, we sat down together and planned the further action that we would take regarding any further dangers presented by the Wilton Collection.
