The Book of the Dead

by Paul Davis

  ‘He was killed in a way which had much in common with Zeno. A long narrow blade. But this time there was more blood. It puzzled me how the culprit managed to avoid being covered in blood themselves. But no one saw anyone in such a state.

  ‘I looked carefully at how we all left the barge that morning, and when we all returned. I couldn’t see how anyone could have had the opportunity to slip into Mantios’s room unseen. But that is what Thestor had suddenly realised.

  ‘Mantios was killed as soon as he went down after breakfast. The stifling heat in his room kept his body warm, so I had no idea when his death had occurred. I wrongly assumed it had been only a short time previously. Even so, I should have realised sooner, and Thestor might still have been with us.

  ‘There was still the problem of the weapon. For Zeno, a long narrow blade would have done the trick. But you couldn’t go walking about the Library, or even the city, without someone noticing and wondering what you were doing with it. For Mantios, to avoid being covered in blood, you would have to be some distance away, so perhaps something more like a fine sword had to be used. But again, you can hardly walk around with one. Unless it is well hidden. A little while ago a priest said to me: ‘the thing we are looking for is often in plain view, right in front of our faces’. I think it’s time we had a look at your stick, don’t you, Prokles?’

  -0-

  At Kaires’s words there was a stunned silence. Then Haemon let out a snort of derision.

  ‘Prokles? Have you lost your mind? The man can hardly walk. Given, he could probably just about manage to hobble up on to a box, but getting down to the rear deck in the middle of the night? And climbing a rope to get back up again? Impossible!’

  ‘That would indeed be true, if Prokles really had a badly damaged leg. But you don’t, do you, Prokles?’

  Since his name was first mentioned, Prokles had not moved. His expression had remained serious, but unmoved. He made no answer.

  Kaires continued. ‘We talked about your injury one evening. I offered to take a look at it the next day, in daylight. But you never mentioned it to me again. As soon as people hear I am a doctor they can rarely resist asking me about their own problems. Someone with a genuine injury would have been glad to have taken up my offer.

  ‘Do you value your own opinion so much? Maybe others don’t.’ Haemon again.

  ‘Granted. But there was something else. After our swim the other day, I slipped on someone else’s sandal by mistake. A hobnail had come through its sole into the heel, and I got a sharp pain when I trod on it. I banged it in and found my own sandal.

  ‘Now it is very difficult to fake a limp for a long time. Sooner or later it is inevitably forgotten for a moment. But if there is a constant reminder – a sharp pain whenever weight is put on the heel, then you could keep up the charade quite successfully, only ever putting weight on the ball of your foot. And if occasionally you forgot – well, genuine pain and a grimace would further convince people and elicit sympathy. When Iola got a stone in her sandal and started hobbling, it suddenly struck me that the nail through the heel of the other sandal had just such a purpose.

  He turned to Prokles again. ‘I suspect your injury healed quite quickly. You made a few superficial cuts to induce a bit of scarring, so it looked the part.’

  Prokles put his head on one side and smiled a little. ‘Do go on,’ he said.

  ‘Your accident happened at about the same time Zeno first approached you about his discovery in the archives. Whether you had your swordstick specially made, for of course that’s what it is, or whether you came across it by chance and it suggested the idea to you, I don’t know. After all, you genuinely needed one for a short while. But it must have quickly dawned on you how useful it would be to carry it about with you. And so the plan to murder Zeno began to take shape in your mind.

  ‘It puzzled me for a while why Zeno should have chosen you to help him. But of course what he needed more than anything else was Caesarion’s ring. Where had it been all those years? I suspect it was there all along in the Museum’s collection, in the historical artefacts under your care. Not on display – anything to do with Cleopatra is still considered dangerous material – but tucked away and forgotten by the world at large. Perhaps you had mentioned it in passing to Zeno. In any case you would have been the obvious one for him to ask. Did you sense he was a bit too keen to see it? You must have been kicking yourself that you didn’t take an impression of it before you handed it over to Zeno. It was only when you saw the map that you realised why he wanted it.

  ‘You waited until a day when you knew the court would be full, then you put your plan into action. You left with Haemon, knowing that he lived in the opposite direction to you, and saw him off at the front door. Then you set off yourself for home, on the way slipping down the service alley...

  ‘Afterwards you were reluctant to go on this trip; you had to somehow get the ring back. You didn’t want to bring attention to yourself by reporting it missing from the Museum’s collection, so you waited to see what would happen to it. Unfortunately it was no secret that Gallus had it in his possession. When at the last minute you heard he was going on the Gloria Aegyptae, you pretended to allow Haemon to persuade you to come.

  ‘Then came poor Mantios, blundering in to your otherwise successful attempt to repossess the ring. I wondered why you hadn’t killed him straight away when he discovered you; after all it was the middle of the night and you were alone on the upper deck. But of course you didn’t have your swordstick with you; it would have just got in the way of your climbing exploits. So you had to wait until the next day. On the morning of his death, everyone seemed to have left the barge before Mantios went down to breakfast, leaving only myself and Iola on board. I had seen everyone leave except you, Prokles. Thestor said he had seen you in the market, and I believed him.

  ‘But it wasn’t you at all. Thestor was very short sighted, and he could easily confuse a man at a distance, distinctively walking with a stick, for someone else. Most people wear simple tunics, and there is nothing exceptional about the way you dress. It would be a simple enough mistake to make. I imagine you heard him say this as you came back upstairs from your room, unseen by the rest of us. You must have realised what an advantage it gave you. So you waited until we had all left and then went to see Mantios...

  ‘Afterwards you left the barge, perhaps mixing amongst members of the crew to be less noticeable. But even if you left on your own, it was the people coming back onto the barge who were scrutinised by the doorman, not those leaving – and foolishly, that’s all I asked about.’

  ‘What about Thestor, then?’ asked Aristeon, ‘If he was vouching for Prokles, why kill him?

  Kaires absently moved behind the third vacant chair. ‘Because something made him realise that the man he had seen in the marketplace wasn’t Prokles, after all. He had followed Prokles back after the swim, and must have seen that he walked differently to the man he had seen; perhaps limping on the other leg. He didn’t think it that important, because he couldn’t conceive that a genuinely disabled man could have been involved in Mantios’s murder.’

  Kaires gripped the back of the chair and turned back to Prokles. ‘So you decided that he had to die, as well. Was it hemlock? Chosen especially for a philosopher? His death was truly unforgiveable. It was a simple matter to leave it for him, disguised in his favourite mint infusion. Later you returned and left the note, good enough to convince Dexios, but nonetheless a clever forgery. Zeno was not the only expert copyist in the library.’

  Prokles sat as if frozen to his chair, his expression fixed. Dexios stood, thunder in his face. He spoke with force and determination in his voice. ‘Is this true? Have you nothing to say?’

  But Prokles was on his feet as well, realising that the game was up. With no sign of a limp, he vaulted his chair and made for the side of the barge, before any of the Prefect’s guards could stop him.

  In a flash Iola was up after him, and, grabbing the stick
which he had left behind, managed to trip him up and send him sprawling on the deck. In a second she was on top of him, clawing at his face. ‘You killed my father!’ she screamed.

  Prokles hands were around her throat. ‘You fool!’ he shouted. ‘It was all –‘

  ‘Somebody save my daughter!’ screamed Myrine, rushing over to the fighting pair. But she was not as fast as Dexios, who was upon Prokles in an instant. He brought his hand down with all the force he could muster, and it was all over; Iola sprang away, and Prokles lay dying, blood bubbling from his mouth, clasping a dagger which had been plunged deep into his chest. Dexios stood over him.

  For my brother,’ he said.

  -0-

  The body of Prokles had been taken below, awaiting arrival in Terenouthis. Kaires sat in the Prefect’s saloon, Gallus himself by his side. Opposite them sat Strabo and Chaeremon. Kaires held Prokles’s stick warily, turning it round and round in his hands.

  ‘For goodness sake open the damn thing up,’ said Gallus, never a model of patience. ‘It can’t be that hard to find the way.’

  Kaires had tried pulling on the top, which had been shaped into a djed pillar, turning it this way and that to no avail. He passed it across to Chaeremon, who fiddled about for a while without result. Strabo watched for a while and asked: ‘May I?’

  ‘By all means,’ said Chaeremon. ‘It’s a devious little thing and no doubt takes a similar type of mind to open it.’

  Strabo took the stick in his hand and pushed up the silver band at the base of the djed pillar, simultaneously twisting the top. With a click the catch released, and the top lifted free. He handed it back to Kaires.

  ‘It’s an old design, one that I’ve come across before in my travels. Quite simple, really, but it takes more than a simple mind to open it.’ He smiled sweetly at Chaeremon.

  Kaires gently withdrew the long, narrow blade concealed within. Tightly wound round it was a length of papyrus, which he carefully unrolled and stretched out on the table in front of them.

  ‘You were right, Kaires,’ said Gallus. ‘You took a risk, though. What if he’d thrown it overboard? With that blade inside it, it would have sunk immediately.’

  ‘True, but we’d have seen where he threw it and would have had a good chance of retrieving it. I didn’t think he would, though. I thought he’d face it out, as he did. If he’d had any inkling earlier on, he could have dropped it overboard anywhere and we’d never have found it.’

  They all looked intently at the papyrus before them.

  ‘This is what Zeno unearthed in the archives. It must have been in with the rest of Cleopatra’s documents, and have caught his eye. It’s rather strange looking, all these diamond shapes,’ said Kaires.

  ‘Perhaps it’s unfinished,’ suggested Chaeremon, earning a derisive glance from Strabo.

  Gallus pointed to a series of hieroglyphs along the centre. ‘What does this mean?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, it joins in with Caesarion’s cartouche in the middle section. When it’s all put together, it says “Seek, Caesarion, and you will find,” presumably referring to the hidden gold.’

  Kaires took the seal impression he had made and carefully cut along the edges of the print. Placing it in the empty space in the centre, he carefully matched up the lines on it with those of the map, and pinned it in place. He stared at it for a moment, until the pattern coalesced, but it meant nothing to him.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Gallus. Looks like a lot of nonsense to me.’

  ‘See how it all matches up? The diagonal lines have become squares or rectangles. Three large ones, and a host of smaller ones.’

  ‘Well? What does it mean?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ Kaires admitted.

  ‘Nor me,’ said Strabo.

  ‘I do,’ said Chaeremon, taking his turn to cast a look of disdain at his fellow geographer. ‘It’s the ground plan of the Great Pyramids complex.’ He pointed. ‘The three large squares are the three main pyramids. All the smaller rectangles are the old tombs of the nobles, now falling into ruin.’

  They all followed Chaeremon’s finger as he showed them what he meant. ‘Caesarion’s cartouche lies over this area to the west of Khufu’s pyramid, and a line comes down to this spot amongst the noble’s tombs. I think that’s where we are being told to look for Cleopatra’s treasure.’

  ‘It makes sense,’ agreed Kaires. If Caesarion was returning from the East, he’d probably have come across from the Red Sea and massed his army somewhere about Heliopolis, before heading north to take Alexandria. It would be a perfect spot to hide the store of gold.’

  ‘We can be there in two days,’ said Gallus, rubbing his hands together. His eyes were suddenly bright.

  ‘Of course it might be long gone, or Cleopatra may never have had the chance to carry out her plan,’ said Strabo. ‘There may be nothing there; probably never was.’ This time he earned disdainful looks from both Chaeremon and Gallus. The latter spoke.

  ‘She was a famous tactician. As soon as she saw the possibility of defeat arising, she would have prepared for it. I think there’s a good chance that it’s still there. It’s only the possibility that someone else might have discovered it first that worries me.’

  ‘Very unlikely,’ countered Chaeremon. ‘The place is pretty much deserted apart from a few travellers who are still prepared to make the journey to see the huge monuments to the long departed pharaohs. Strabo won’t be able to believe his eyes when he sees them, doubting everything he’s told as he usually –’

  ‘Can you stick to the point?’ asked Gallus.

  Chaeremon continued. ‘The old kingdom tombs are of no interest, and are usually completely ignored. Most of them are filled up with sand, and inaccessible. I would think that Cleopatra would have covered her tracks well. If she put the gold there in the first place, then that is where it will still be; it’s very unlikely anyone would have stumbled across it by accident.’

  ‘But there are hundreds of tombs. It will be like looking for a needle in a haystack.’

  ‘As Chaeremon said, I think Caesarion’s cartouche is marking out a particular tomb for us to go to. It would be a good starting point, anyway.’

  ‘It had better be,’ said Gallus. ‘I haven’t the time to go digging up the whole lot. Thank goodness his cartouche isn’t on one of the pyramids themselves. If they’re as big as everyone says, it would cost more than all the gold in Egypt to find it in the first place. Are you sure there aren’t any more clues?’

  They all peered closely over the papyrus, but could see nothing else.

  ‘I wonder what Prokles would have done had he found the gold,’ asked Strabo. ‘I mean, how would he have gone about shifting such a quantity of gold without arousing suspicion?’

  ‘He was clever, said Chaeremon. ‘He’d probably have taken no more than he needed for the present, and gradually built it up over time. Then off to Athens or Rome where nobody would know him, a new name, and a new life. Millionaires are two a penny there. He’d simply blend in as a rich trader from the Eastern Empire who had decided to settle down in the Mother City. I doubt the source of his wealth would ever have been seriously questioned. A house on the Palatine, a villa at Baiae, slaves, a life of luxury. No wonder he was prepared to take a risk.’

  They returned to a close study of the papyrus.

  ‘I don’t know. It’s too good to be true. Probably all turn out to be a wild goose chase,’ said Strabo.

  -0-

  The Gloria Aegyptae sailed into the dock at Terenouthis late the following afternoon. The passengers assembled on the top deck to watch as the body of Prokles was taken ashore. There was to be no funeral, just a quick cremation the next day, with a scattering of the ashes to the winds. No one was to attend; it would all be arranged by the local governors according to the wishes of the Prefect.

  There was a sense of subdued excitement on board. Everyone was glad to see the last of Prokles. The business of the murders had been cleared up, and the veil of suspici
on lifted from them all. Kaires felt everyone was free to breathe again, and it showed. Despite the solemnity surrounding the body’s removal, there was a general mood of easiness, of renewed comradeship, of relief at the lifting of a curse.

  Gallus was keen to push on to the pyramids as soon as possible, but had agreed that the barge could stay a couple of hours at Terenouthis the next morning to allow the scholars a chance to visit the town. There were two temples of note; one to Hathor, and the other to Renenutet, the Egyptian cobra goddess. Kaires was keen to visit the latter, as it was renowned for the treatment of snakebites.

  Kaires slept very soundly that night. For once his mind was at peace, not teeming with conflicting thoughts, churning away and preventing him from getting the sleep he so desperately needed. He woke a little later than was his custom. As usual Iola was up and ready before anyone else. She was waiting at the door to the dining room and intercepted Kaires as he went in to breakfast.

  ‘No time for that,’ she said. ‘We’ve only got a short time here, so we need to make the most of it.’ She indicated a straw bag by her side. ‘I’ve got bread and cucumber here for both of us, and a couple of boiled eggs. Better get going.’

  Kaires began to regret his decision about her apprenticeship. He was not sure he was going to be able to keep up with all this. Still, nothing like youthful enthusiasm, he thought. He remembered when he had started out, how his thirst for learning had led him to do exactly the same sort of thing to his tutors. He ought to put a stop to it at the beginning.

  ‘Iola, I –’

  But she was already halfway down the gangplank. Kaires clenched his teeth and followed. He caught up with her on the dock.

  ‘Iola, you’re really going to have to go by my rules. And one of them is that breakfast is a very important meal of the day, not to be rushed, and especially not to be eaten on the move. Any physician would tell you so. Before looking after your patients, you have to look after yourself. Keeping yourself healthy is the most impor-’