Storm cycle, p.15
Storm Cycle, page 15
Rachel nodded. “I’ll take a look at the decoding software you wrote. I’ve gotten pretty good at harnessing Jonesy’s brute force in solving problems.”
Tavak smiled. “I have a feeling that’s like saying Tiger Woods is ‘pretty good’ at golf.”
Val didn’t look up from the keyboard. “You got that right.”
“Part of the message is easy to read. It alludes to another former patient of Peseshet’s who would protect her legacy. But I discovered that the scope of this puzzle may be larger than I first thought.”
“What do you mean?”
“We already knew that Natifah had persuaded Peseshet’s former patients to honor the doctor by erecting hidden monuments in their tombs. I assumed all of these patients were in Egypt, but that may not have been the case.”
“You mean Natifah may have gone to other countries to hide the clues?”
“It makes sense. She was on the run, and it would have been smart to leave Egypt. She was in Babylonia when Peseshet was killed. She had to return to Egypt to retrieve Peseshet’s tablets, but she wouldn’t have had to stay there. In their travels, Peseshet and Natifah would have encountered any number of rulers or noblemen who would have been grateful enough to honor Peseshet as she requested. And since they weren’t subjects of the Pharaoh, there would be less danger to them and their families for erecting these hidden monuments to her.”
“So where does that leave us?”
Tavak showed her the pages. “The inscription on the wall of Kontar’s tomb mentions a ‘soaring bird of twilight’ who protects the next piece of Peseshet’s legacy. It says that this piece is written with the fire of the sun on his tomb. I couldn’t find anyone in Old Kingdom Egypt who might match that description, but when I had Jonesy broaden the search, I found something interesting.”
Tavak pointed to a photo that depicted a stone-chiseled representation of a man wearing ornamental robes. “This was a holy man in Babylon. We don’t really know his name, although modern archaeologists call him Nemop. He’s thought to have gained his powers only late in life, so he was well known as the Eagle Who Soars at Sundown.”
“The soaring bird of twilight . . .”
“Yes. Babylonia was an important trading partner to Egypt during Peseshet’s time, so it’s entirely possible that she was sent to minister to the country’s VIPs in exchange for goods or access to trade routes.”
Rachel looked at Tavak’s handwritten notes, which included a list of half a dozen items. “What’s this?”
“Things that were probably buried with him to take to the afterlife. Clothing, work animals, dried fruits, twenty-two ounces of oil from a sillicyprium tree, among other things.”
“I don’t like where this is going. Does this mean we’re about to raid another tomb?”
“I don’t think so. Nemop did have a temple that he used in life and became a sort of shrine to him after his death. It was discovered in 1937 by an archaeologist named Danielle Hutton.”
Tavak raised a downloaded black-and-white photo of a woman wearing tall boots, broad-pleated pants, white blouse, and a pith helmet. She appeared to be at a dig site.
Rachel glanced at the picture and smiled. “Are you sure this isn’t a movie lobby card? She looks like Katharine Hepburn.”
“Danielle Hutton was the real deal. But I can’t find any information about where Nemop’s shrine went. We know it was moved shortly after the discovery, but the trail goes cold after that. An occasional stray artifact from the site can be found in online museum catalogs, but I haven’t been able to find anything else.”
“It could have been lost or destroyed during World War II.”
“Possibly. But there is someone we can talk to.”
“Surely not Danielle Hutton.”
“Afraid not. She died in 1995. But look at this.” Tavak raised the picture and pointed to a little girl in a khaki outfit standing in the background alongside several men. “This is her daughter, Emily. She took up the family business and became a great archaeologist in her own right. She teaches at Berkeley.”
“So we’re headed to California?”
Tavak smiled. “Not exactly.”
TEN
QUANTO VALLEY RIDGE
ARIZONA
Rachel folded her map and looked at the expanse of desert before her. She and Tavak sat in an open Jeep driving toward the unobstructed horizon.
She wiped her forehead with her handkerchief and leaned forward in the passenger seat. “It must be a hundred degrees.”
Tavak smiled. “Try a hundred and fourteen.”
“And this woman is camping out here.”
“That’s what I was told.”
“Is that really a good idea for an eighty-year-old?”
“From what I understand, it’s her graduate students on the expedition who are having the problems. She’s been doing this her whole life.”
“Amazing.”
“I just hope she can give us something we can use. It’s a long way to go for nothing.”
Two hours later, Tavak slowed as they approached a small village of tents situated in the shadow of a craggy rock formation. A dozen students worked with shovels, pickaxes, and wire brushes at various spots around the encampment.
They pulled alongside a young man with mirrored sunglasses. Tavak called out to him. “Where can I find Dr. Hutton?”
“Find her yourself.” The young man plopped onto the ground cross-legged. “That lady’s gonna kill me.”
“So she’s here?”
”Oh, yeah. She’s here.” He squinted at them. “Think maybe I can hitch a ride back with you guys? Maybe it’s not too late to switch my major. I’ve got a pretty good—”
“Stop your whining, Benjamin!” A strong, sharp voice cut through his sentence.
Rachel and Tavak turned to see a woman who could only be Dr. Emily Hutton. Her tanned, weather-beaten face was creased with deep lines, but otherwise she looked astonishingly like the photo of her mother. She possessed the same angular features, and her gray hair was pulled back in a ponytail.
Emily took off her hat and struck the young man about the head and shoulders. “Drink some water and get back in your hole. Now!”
“I can’t. Not yet.”
“Sure you can. And you will. How would you like Cassie Davis to see an eighty-year-old woman taking your place because you’re too much of a wuss to finish what you’ve started?”
The student glared at her. “You hit me. That’s abuse. I could write you up, and—”
“For God’s sake, you’re twenty years old. You’d get laughed off the campus if you filed a report. Now get back to work.”
Benjamin muttered something beneath his breath. Then he picked himself up and trudged back toward one of the dig sites.
Emily turned back toward Rachel and Tavak. “I take it you’re not here to give me the extra supplies I need.”
“Afraid not,” Tavak said. “We want to talk to you about a discovery your mother made.”
“Ah, shit. Which one?”
“Nemop, in Babylonia.”
“You couldn’t have called or sent me an e-mail?”
“Your graduate assistant wouldn’t give us the number of your satellite phone, and she refused to pass along a message. She said it was for emergencies only.”
Emily chuckled. “Good girl. I’m very busy out here. See me in my office in ten days.” She turned away.
Rachel jumped out of the Jeep. “Wait!”
Emily stopped, but she didn’t turn around.
Rachel ran around to face her. “Dr. Hutton, please. I’m Dr. Rachel Kirby. I’m a university professor, too. I know how important this project is to you, but if you could just give us a few minutes of your time.”
Emily glanced between Rachel and Tavak. “Young lady, if you’re a college professor, you know how precious my time is out here. I have to fight like hell to get the grants I need to mount these shindigs.”
“I understand.”
“And still you want to take some of my valuable time.”
“Yes. It’s important.”
“Of course it is.” Emily sighed. “Just a few minutes, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
“Uh-huh. Okay. Come see me at the end of the day. We’ll talk.”
Tavak shook his head. “We need to get back right away.”
Emily shrugged. “Then go. I’m not stopping you.”
“Okay, okay.” Rachel put a hand on her arm. “We’ll stay. Thank you.”
Emily’s face lit with a broad grin that was definitely elfish. “Don’t thank me, Rachel Kirby.” She bent over, picked up a pair of shovels, and handed them to Rachel and Tavak.
Tavak looked at his shovel. “I’m afraid to ask what this is for.”
“Last time I checked, it was for digging. Which is what you’re going to be doing for oh, the next seven hours or so. It so happens we can use a couple grunt laborers here today.”
“Are you serious?”
Emily turned and walked away. “Talk to the tall blond girl over there. She’ll tell you where to dig.”
As the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, the excavation site’s atmosphere changed from that of a slave-labor camp to a block party. Torches were lit and folk-rock music suddenly blared from an array of speakers. Two of the students erected a long table, while another uncovered a grill pit and started a fire.
On the hill where Rachel and Tavak had worked in relative isolation, Tavak threw down his shovel. “I guess the whistle has blown.”
Rachel glanced at her throbbing hands. “I hope we were really accomplishing something. I have a feeling they just put us up here so everyone could look up whenever they needed a laugh.”
Tavak smiled. “I wouldn’t put it past the old girl. Come on, let’s find her.”
They worked their way down into the heart of the camp, where they finally found Emily seated on a canvas folding chair, holding court for a half dozen of her students. She held a shot glass in one hand and a bottle of tequila in the other, which she used to frequently refill her students’ cups.
Rachel ventured into circle. “Dr. Hutton?
“Welcome, welcome!” Emily now appeared much looser than she had earlier in the afternoon, and her eyes appeared as two tiny slits. She smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m not drunk. At least not yet. But a couple of hours from now, that’ll be a different story.”
The students laughed and clinked their glasses.
Emily poured herself another shot. “So tell me, why in hell would you want to know about Nemops?”
“It was a major archaeological find,” Tavak said. “But little seems to survive.”
“Oh, it survives. Just not anyplace where people can easily study it.”
“Why not?”
“It was the deal my mother struck with the government. She could dig, study, and catalog, but none of her finds could be taken from the country. They went into storage. There was some talk of a national museum, but it never happened. Eventually, everything was either sold off or pilfered. As you know, ancient Babylon is modern-day Iraq. Some of those Babylonian archaeological sites have been paved over and have military helipads on them. Nice, huh?”
Rachel knelt next to her. “Do you know where the artifacts ended up?”
“My mother kept track of that stuff. She was hoping to interest a foundation in gathering it for a permanent collection, but she never got very far. What are you interested in?”
“The temple itself. The walls, anything with inscriptions on it.”
Emily laughed so hard that the student next to her had to grab her wrist to keep her from spilling her drink.
“Did I say something funny?” Tavak asked.
Emily wiped her eyes. “Do you like monkeys?”
“Monkeys?”
“Yes. You see, that temple went on the auction block in 1939 to line the pocket of some corrupt government official. I think a few museums were in the running for it, but an American with far too much money was also there. His checkbook was bigger, so he went home with it.
“What American?”
“William Randolph Hearst. Heard of him?”
Tavak nodded. “Of course.”
“He was buying art treasures all over the world for a little place he was building on the California coast.”
Rachel’s brows lifted. “Hearst Castle? It’s there?”
“In a matter of speaking. You see, Hearst never bothered reassembling the temple. I guess he just didn’t know what to do with it. The walls, floor, ceiling—the whole thing—became a sidewalk.”
“You’re joking,” Rachel said.
“Wish I was. My sense of humor isn’t this good. Those priceless temple walls became an inlaid outdoor walkway in Hearst’s zoo on the property. It was the largest private zoo in the world.”
“Incredible,” Rachel said. “And it’s still there?”
Emily nodded. “Near the monkey cages. There are no animals anymore, of course. I don’t think the tours even go up there nowadays. And the whole estate now belongs to the California Park Service.”
Rachel and Tavak exchanged glances.
“You never answered my question,” Emily said. “Why does this matter to you?”
Rachel turned back toward her. “We think Nemop may have had an association with someone else we’re studying. Peseshet.”
“The lady doctor? It’s possible. Timing would be about right.”
“But there were no inscriptions on those temple walls that mentioned her?” Tavak asked.
“No. And my mother photographed everything. If you hunt around, I think you can find the pictures online.”
“Yes, I’ve found quite a few of them,” Tavak said.
Rachel stood up. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Hutton.”
“You’re welcome.” Emily stood, steadying herself by gripping the back of her chair. “Do something for me, will you? When you find what you’re looking for, let me know. My mom carried the memory of Nemop around with her most of her life, and she would have been happy that people are still talking about the guy.”
HEARST CASTLE
SAN SIMEON, CALIFORNIA
“For heaven’s sake, why use a boat?” Rachel asked as she helped Tavak pull the blue-and-white motorboat onto the narrow strip of white sand below the castle. “It would have been quicker to drive here.”
“But not as serene or beautiful.” He drew a deep breath. “Sea air, golden sunlight . . . It’s good for the soul.” He took her arm. “Come on, it’s a little hike to the main gate.”
Before long they were within the gates and had taken the tram from the visitor center to the main house. They stood next to the Neptune pool facing the remnants of the zoo over a quarter mile away. Rachel handed Tavak the binoculars. “The cages are to the right.”
Tavak peered through the lenses. “All I can see is concrete. Our inlaid walkway must be in front of the cages, hidden by those trees.”
“That’s what I think.” Rachel stepped back and took in the estate’s massive, Spanish-style structures, clay tennis courts, and the long, winding road that led down to the Pacific Coast Highway. They had just seen the exotic gardens on the other side of the main house, and their odors blended with the ocean air in a combination she could only describe as intoxicating.
Tavak smiled. “It’s easy to imagine Charlie Chaplin, Cary Grant, and Carole Lombard going for a midnight swim here, isn’t it? Or maybe playing tennis with some foreign head of state?”
“Or going for a stroll on a priceless four-thousand-year-old temple wall?”
“That, too.”
She motioned toward the long-abandoned zoo cages. “So how are we going to get over there?”
“I’m working on it.”
“I guess it would be too much to suggest that we go through official channels. You know, write a few letters, contact an administrator . . .”
Tavak shook his head. “That’s a good way to drown in red tape. Dawson isn’t waiting for anyone. He won’t be writing letters.”
“So what’s your master plan?”
“We hitch a ride. Tonight.”
HEARST CASTLE
9:20 P.M.
“You okay back there?” Tavak called back to Rachel over his shoulder. He was in the passenger seat of a white-paneled van, sitting next to Paul Deakins, a stocky fifteen-year veteran of Marsh Food Supply. Deakins was making his nightly delivery to the Hearst Castle food-service kitchen, and he’d been persuaded to risk his job for a generous cash bribe from Tavak.
Rachel clung to the metal racks in the back of the van. The vehicle lurched on a steep incline as it neared the visitors’ center. “Oh, I’m just great. Tell me again, why aren’t you back here instead?”
“This company has never had a female delivery person. You’d stick out.”
“That sounds as flimsy now as it did the first time.”
Deakins laughed. “Hang on, we’re almost there.”
Within a minute, they were at a small loading dock at the visitors’ center, a building that contained the ticket windows, souvenir shops, and restaurants. It was a waiting area between the parking lots and trams that took guests to the main houses and gardens of the estate.
Deakins backed the van into place and cut the engine. He sat in silence for a moment.
“What is it?” Tavak asked.
Deakins glanced at them. “I’m just—You guys aren’t terrorists or anything, are you?”
Tavak smiled. “It’s a little late for a guilty conscience, isn’t it?”
“You said you just want to look around.”
“It’s the truth. We’re not going to take or harm anything.”
Deakins glanced back at Rachel, who gave him a reassuring nod. “Okay. If you got caught, remember your promise. You snuck in over the fence somewhere. Let ’em wonder why their sensors didn’t pick it up.” He grimaced. “And be careful. These grounds have as many security alarms as Fort Knox. Anyone thinks there’s something funny going on, and that hill will be lit up like a Christmas tree.”
