by C T Cassana
“Really?” asked the doctor with a worried look.
“Please take every precaution. The handling of this case has been exemplary and it would be a shame for any information on the patient to get out, especially given that it involves a minor...”
“Of course!” agreed Dr. Price, evidently angered at the idea that something like that could have happened. “Don’t worry, I’ll be on the alert.”
“If you hear of anything suspicious, please contact me so I can investigate it,” Max told him, holding out a card on which he had written the same number he had given to Nurse Michaels. “Call me on this mobile number. This is a very delicate matter and I would prefer to keep it strictly confidential, even from my office staff. You never know where a leak might come from.”
After saying his good-byes to the physician and Nurse Michaels, Max left in a hurry. He needed to contact Jeff Carter urgently to obtain as much information as he could on Elisabeth Wilford and her scrawny brother.
CHAPTER XXII: In Memoriam
Max went to see Emanuel Gentile again to bring him the latest news. In the past, he wouldn’t have hesitated to share every detail of his investigation, giving him the identity and all the information he had on his next victim. But for the first time in his life he did something that he never would have dared to imagine doing before: he lied to the Grand Master and broke the vow of obedience that he had sworn to keep.
Unfortunately, it was too late to hide the fact that the owner of the cape was a boy and that he lived in London. But it wasn’t too late to conceal the fact that he had a fourteen-year-old sister who would also have to die, along with his whole family. Emanuel Gentile only knew of the existence of the grandmother, so Max spoke of a boy with no other relatives apart from her. He also gave him a different name, Carl Watson, which matched the initials on the compass. The Milford clue was a false lead, which was why there was no boy on the list of people he had investigated. The whole mess had been caused by a mix-up in the paperwork at the hospital, an unfortunate administrative error that had now been cleared up.
This excuse convinced the old man, who nevertheless perceived a certain distance in his confidant’s behavior. He knew his protégé, and the human condition, all too well. Although he didn’t know what was behind it, he could tell that Max was not relaxed this evening and that he was making an effort to pretend that everything was normal. Gentile listened to him attentively, scrutinizing his interlocutor’s every word, his every gesture, his every pause. His aging eyes studied him, trying to pierce the pretense and find the reason for his forced behavior.
“When will you recover the cape?” he asked.
“I’m finalizing the details,” replied Max. “Nothing can be left to chance. It’s too risky.”
“We don’t have much time,” replied Gentile. “You still have to present the cape to the Grand Council and put yourself forward as a candidate to succeed me. And we have to allow seven days for other knights to put their names forward as well. After that, the candidate has to be elected and everything has to be ratified by the Grand Council, and all that takes a long time, Max. We don’t have...”
“We’re talking about a child and his elderly grandmother,” Max interjected curtly.
“We’re talking about a young brat and a stupid woman who shouldn’t be letting her grandson play with something neither one of them understands. It’s your duty to wipe them out and get that damned cape, Max. That’s an order.”
“I know,” replied Max, struggling to keep his true feelings hidden. “But it has to look like an unfortunate accident. If it is revealed to be a crime, it could cause a big stir. And we don’t need it to turn into a media spectacle that would force a police investigation.”
Emanuel Gentile agreed with a nod of his head. Perhaps the fear of being discovered was all that was troubling Max. Or perhaps the age of his prey was making him hesitant for the first time in his life.
“I have never left anything to chance, and I’m not about to do it now that we’re so close,” stated Max flatly. “That’s what has made me one of the best time traveler hunters.”
But not the only one, thought the Grand Master in silence. Then he bid his pupil farewell, while quietly wondering whether he was backing the best candidate.
If Max didn’t bring him results soon, he would consider one of his other options. They were not as promising and certainly not as trustworthy, but then who knew whether Max himself was really to be trusted.
If within the next week he didn’t have the results he wanted, he would give another knight the boy’s name that Max had entrusted to him. And it would be another knight who would kill the little brat, Carl Watson, and become the next Grand Master of the Order of the Knights of Time.
. . .
The days after the discovery of the papyrus scroll were absolute madness. First of all, a vast diplomatic and institutional operation had to be carried out to convince the French authorities to permit the second papyrus scroll of Nefertiti to be exhibited in the British Museum, where it would be presented to the world. An unprecedented request, if not absolutely outrageous.
In the end, the words of Monsieur Chartier, the Louvre’s director, were decisive in winning the authorities over.
“Mes amis,” he said, making a show of the finest French gallantry. “Without Dr. Wilford, we never would have found this papyrus. Allow her to exhibit it now, while we make the preparations to exhibit it later in the Louvre, together with the first papyrus of Nefertiti and the Rosetta Stone, which, I am quite sure, our British friends will agree to lend us.”
Having overcome this first obstacle, it was also necessary to produce a translation that would give an idea of the content of the second scroll and, as a result, the true story of the Egyptian queen. To achieve this in such a short space of time, pictures of the ancient document were sent to Egyptology experts and departments at universities all over the world so that each one could decipher a small fragment, while a work team put everything together and ensured that it made coherent sense.
Last of all, the two scrolls had to be presented in an appropriate setting, one that could transmit the huge importance of the finding. Amazingly, something that would normally take several months to plan and produce was finished in a matter of days.
The curse upon the Queen Nefertiti exhibition had finally been lifted.
Nevertheless, Maggie wasn’t completely satisfied yet. Although she was pleased to see the British Museum benefit from the finding, she felt that the credit for this extraordinary achievement should have fallen upon a person of flesh and blood rather than an institution. Thus, taking advantage of the great prestige and importance she had acquired from the discovery, she boldly set out her demands to the board of the museum.
After various debates on the matter, the museum director, Mr. Clark, ultimately acquiesced to Maggie’s demands to place a plaque at the entrance to the exhibition with a message from the British Museum, expressing its gratitude for the finding to the person who had made it possible. And as if that weren’t enough, the plaque had to be unveiled solemnly at the opening ceremony of the exhibition before hundreds of guests.
. . .
While Max looked over the photos of the members of the Wilford family that one of his informants had sent him, he recalled the words of Dr. Price. Indeed, Charles Wilford was the skinniest boy he had ever seen. He then reviewed the documentation he had before him.
Without a doubt, this was the most difficult mission of his whole life, as he had to recover the cape and eliminate its owner and everyone who knew of its existence. He reviewed the plan he had drawn up one more time: it was as horrific as it was efficient. Nobody would ever discover who had been behind the death of the Wilford family.
Regrettably, this case raised too many questions, requiring him to act forcefully, with no room for mercy. He knew that the boy had time traveled with his sister and with one of his grandmothers; but he didn’t know which grandmother, or whether he had traveled wi
th any other members of his family. As for Margaret and Marcus Wilford, it was clear that they were very well-educated individuals, both with an extensive knowledge of history, which made it unlikely that they would have known or approved of the trips to the past that their son had been making. However, all this was conjecture and Max knew that he couldn’t take any risks by leaving any loose ends.
His duty was to ensure that the unpleasant affair was ended with no room for doubt, even if that meant sacrificing more lives than were strictly necessary. A mistake like that didn’t matter if the safety of the cape and of the Order of the Knights of Time was assured. This case was so exceptional that Max knew that nobody would question anything he did. As cruel as the decisions a knight had to take might be, they were all justified, all essential for the protection of humankind. It was terrible to cut short the life of a boy and his whole family, but it would be much worse if the world learned of the existence of the time capes, or if they fell into the hands of an unscrupulous, untrained or irresponsible individual.
In this case, Charles Wilford posed too many uncertainties and represented an unacceptable risk for the Order of the Knights of Time, not only because he was a child, but because his cape was too powerful, making it necessary to keep it under tight control. Its power was so great that it would even be dangerous if it fell into the hands of one of his rivals, other knights who were more ambitious and less inclined to observe the code of the Order.
Max gathered up the documents calmly, unhurriedly, as if he wanted to delay the arrival of the dreadful moment. Before putting them away in the safe, he set his bracelet with the coordinates for the Wilfords’ house, which at that moment should have been empty, allowing him the perfect chance to carry out his plan. Finally, he took the maroon-colored velvet cape and draped it over his shoulders.
But then, despite the fact that he would only be making things much more difficult, he went into the dressing room and put on one of his tuxedos. Once dressed, he approached his desk, where he picked up an invitation to attend an exhibition opening being held that evening at the British Museum in London.
. . .
The Wilfords climbed the stairs at the front of the building, which were adorned with a big red carpet for the occasion and lined with photographers and television camera crews from all over the world. The atmosphere was charged with expectation, as everyone knew that an important archeological discovery, which the British Museum’s directors had managed to keep a secret, would be announced that evening.
As soon as they entered the hall they were welcomed by the museum director, Mr. Clark, who took Maggie by the arm and led her around to greet different personalities and special guests. Maggie followed the protocol patiently and chatted with the people that the director introduced her to, but as soon as she got the chance she slipped away from them to return to her family, who were waiting for her at the refreshments table. She wanted them all to be in the front row when the plaque was unveiled.
The opening ceremony began at last. The little orchestra there to provide the entertainment finished playing, and the guests crowded around the entrance to the exhibition, where there was a large black satin cloth covering one of the side walls. Mr. Clark stepped up onto a small podium next to the curtain and cleared his throat quickly before beginning to speak.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “It is a great honor for me to welcome you all to our distinguished institution on an evening that I would dare to describe as historic. At the exhibition that opens today, dedicated to the enigmatic Queen Nefertiti, the British Museum is proud to present a most important discovery: a pair of papyrus scrolls that reveal the secret history of the great Egyptian queen.”
A murmur ran through the crowd. Mr. Clark smiled when he saw the effect that his words were having on the audience, and then continued.
“This extraordinary find not only allows us to reconstruct the last years of Queen Nefertiti’s life, but also reveals to us her true story, and what actually became of her. As if this were not enough, these scrolls also give us some clues that will no doubt help us to locate her tomb, something that has not been possible until now despite the many attempts to do so. For now I will reveal to you that the queen’s remains lie in the Valley of the Kings, and that it was the young pharaoh Tutankhamun who ordered them to be transported there so that the beautiful Nefertiti would be buried with the dignity and honors befitting her lineage, which her husband, Pharaoh Akhenaten, had denied her as a punishment.”
The hall filled with murmurs once more, this time accompanied by a few gasps of surprise.
“Various theories about Nefertiti have presented her as a cold and manipulative woman who only lusted after power,” added Mr. Clark. “However, thanks to the papyrus scrolls we present to the world today, we can confirm that, in reality, she was a self-sacrificing wife and mother, as loyal as she could be to her husband, Akhenaten, until his fanaticism finally destroyed his own family.
“There have been many people who have worked tirelessly to bring this important discovery to you today. But allow me to highlight the work of two of them; two people without whom none of this would have been possible. The first is the distinguished Monsieur Chartier, Director of the Louvre, whom I would like to thank not only for his unconditional support, but also for his generosity in allowing the second papyrus scroll of Nefertiti, which is the property of his museum, to be presented at the exhibition we are opening this evening.”
The audience broke into applause while Mr. Clark invited Monsieur Chartier up onto the podium.
“And second,” the director went on, “on behalf of the institution I represent, and on my own behalf, I would like to express our most heartfelt gratitude for one of the experts we have had the good fortune to have working for us at this museum. A wonderful person who recognized at once the huge importance of the first papyrus scroll, and who refused to give up until the second scroll was found, thereby completing the amazing story of Queen Nefertiti.”
The director reached out to pull the cord that would unveil the plaque, but then stopped and turned around to look for Maggie in the crowd. She looked at him, her eyes glistening with emotion, and nodded with an almost imperceptible smile.
Mr. Clark pulled the cord and the curtains opened smoothly, revealing a large photograph of Helen Rotherwick, radiant and smiling. When he saw it, Charlie remembered that night coming back from Mozart’s opera. He took his mother’s hand and silently read the bronze plaque positioned underneath the photograph.
“In Memoriam
Helen Rotherwick
(1949 — 2014)
Her unflagging perseverance and the light of her knowledge
always made this museum shine.”
“Sadly, Helen is no longer with us,” added the director, “but her heart and her spirit will always be alive in our great institution, which she loved so dearly, and to which she dedicated her life... And now, if you will accompany me, let us enter and admire the exhibition.”
The guests broke out in applause once more. Then the orchestra began playing again and the entrance doors to the exhibition opened. All the guests flooded inside, impatient to see the wondrous papyrus scrolls. All except for the Wilfords, who stood in silence in front of the commemorative plaque, paying tribute to their friend a little while longer.
Finally, Marcus rested his hand on his wife’s shoulder and gave his children a gentle push in the direction of the entrance.
“Let’s go enjoy the exhibition, kids,” he said.
. . .
Charlie and Lisa walked around the hall, elated. The exhibition was the happy ending to their great adventure, although only they knew the truth about what had happened, that their trips back in time had been crucial to the discovery of the papyrus scrolls. Or at least, that’s what they thought.
They were both so excited that they paid no attention to the other guests, and failed to notice one in particular: a refined looking man of around forty, attractive but discreet, who was
carrying a maroon-colored velvet cape over his forearm despite that fact that there was a coat-check service at the entrance.
The man, however, didn’t take his eyes off the children. He followed them closely, scrutinizing their every gesture and listening to their every word.
Charlie and Lisa wandered happily around the exhibition, oblivious to the man’s presence, while they admired the objects on display. Everything was there: stelae on which Nefertiti appeared beside her husband, the Pharaoh Akhenaten, and his six daughters; the bust of the queen from the cover of Miss Rotherwick’s book; and a model of Akhetaten, the city that the pharaoh had built in the desert. Also on display was the funeral mask of Tutankhamun, and a throne on which he appeared together with his wife, Ankhesenpaaten, intended to show the public the relationship between two of the best-known figures of ancient Egypt: Nefertiti and the ill-fated King Tut.
The children went over to the large display cabinet containing the two papyrus scrolls of Nefertiti and their corresponding translations. A summary gave the details, unknown until then, of the life of the queen, of her conviction that she was being punished by the gods, who had denied her the male child she had longed for. It also explained how in her desperation she decided to seek help from the god Amun and his priest, and that when her husband discovered her betrayal he imprisoned her in the Northern Palace, where she would die a few months later. The world finally knew that Nefertiti had not been a religious fanatic or a manipulator, but merely another victim of the pharaoh’s madness.
Charlie looked at the display with satisfaction. Just as he’d promised Napoleon, justice had been done for the queen.
Last of all, the siblings looked over the section dedicated to telling the story of the discovery of the papyrus scroll, which began with portraits of Bonaparte, Denon, Costaz and other members of the Egyptian expedition. It also showed Joséphine’s watch with the pastoral scene of the Nile and other jewels of Egyptian inspiration that had belonged to the empress, selected pieces from Napoleon’s Egyptian dinner service, a mural photograph of the fresco at the Villa San Martino showing the Sphinx with a cartoon smile, the desk where the papyrus scroll had been found, and a beautiful portrait of Joséphine herself.
