Adam Palmer - The Moses Legacy

‘It used to be at the antiquities museum,’ Mansoor explained, ‘but it was returned here a few years ago, after some intensive restoration work.’

‘These corners…’ Daniel trailed off.

‘Goddesses,’ Mansoor replied. ‘Protecting Ay on his journey into the afterlife. Isis, Neith, Nephtys and Selket.’

Daniel looked up and noticed a decorated doorway leading off the main chamber. Above it was a painted illustration of four figures with animal heads, wearing crowns sitting at a table. But these figures were clearly male.

‘The four sons of Horus,’ said Mansoor, again reading Daniel’s mind.

In response to an encouraging nod from Mansoor, Daniel walked into the side chamber, but found it strangely disappointing. Its walls were unadorned and it did not even contain the Canopic jars with Ay’s internal organs. Noticing that neither Gabrielle nor Mansoor had followed him, he returned to the main chamber and looked at the painted walls. Before him was a scene showing Ay in a swamp with twelve wild birds, probably ducks, rising out of it. Ay appeared to be hunting and his wife was also present in the scene. Ay’s image had been defaced, apparently delicately.

Once again, Mansoor provided the commentary to Daniel’s thoughts. ‘It is widely believed that this tomb was actually built for Tutankhamen, but that Ay appropriated it and had King Tut buried instead in the small tomb that Howard Carter found. At any rate, there are similarities between the paintings here and those in Tutankhamen’s tomb. They were probably the work of the same hand.’

Towards the top of one of the walls were two illustrations of boats. Daniel looked around at some of the other wall paintings and noticed that parts of the image – presumably Ay himself – had been erased. This was not in itself a surprise to Daniel. He knew that there had been a power struggle between Ay and his successor Horemheb and that the latter had launched a campaign of damnatio memorae against several of his predecessors. The ‘cartouches’ – or royal symbols – had been targeted particularly vigorously as had the image of Ay.

Daniel stopped before the image of the baboons. After a few seconds he noticed Mansoor’s presence beside him. And Mansoor was smiling.

‘These are the baboons that gave their name to this tomb, and possibly also to the entire valley.’

Daniel nodded, but he was confused. ‘The thing that I was most interested in is the Great Hymn to Aten.’

‘That’s at his old tomb.’

Daniel looked at Mansoor for an explanation.

‘Ay originally prepared a tomb for himself at Amarna. But when Amarna was abandoned by Tutankhamen, it became impossible to use that one, so instead he prepared a new tomb for himself here. But it was the tomb in Amarna that had the Great Hymn to Aten.’

‘I see,’ said Daniel.

He was distracted by the look on Gabrielle’s face.

Goliath had decided not to take the taxi across the spur road to the western valley. That would have created one more witness and thus one more person to kill. Instead he had walked across. This was not something forbidden, or even discouraged. Indeed, tourists were told that it was the best way to enjoy the view. However, they were warned that the walk there and back would take two to three hours and they should only attempt it if they were fit. Most important of all, they should bring plenty of water and drink it regularly.

Goliath knew that he was fit enough to make it easily, and his height and long strides meant that he could do the walk quicker than most. He knew also that Akil Mansoor was a very determined man and there was presumably a lot that he wanted to show Daniel Klein. This offered him a perfect opportunity.

As he approached, he saw an old man in traditional Bedouin costume sitting idly by a hill smoking a hookah pipe.

What on earth…?

Then he realized when he saw a jeep parked only a few yards away. The hill wasn’t just a hill, it was a cave… a tomb. And this man was the guardian of the tomb.

They’re in the tomb!

And that meant a perfect target.

As he walked along slowly, the guardian looked up from his pipe. Goliath realized that he might arouse some suspicion, so he waved casually and made his face look confused and uncertain, like a lost tourist. He had every right to be here. The western valley was not out of bounds, even if the tombs were not open.

‘Oh, er… excuse me,’ he said. ‘Do you speak English?’

A lot of the Bedouin guides did speak English, making money from the tourist trade, but Goliath wasn’t sure if a tomb guardian would. The last thing he wanted was for this man to run off to the tomb calling for Mansoor or the others. But fortunately the old Bedouin smiled.

‘Yes… a little.’

‘I was wondering if you could help me. I’d like to know if any of these tombs are open?’

‘Not to the public,’ said the guardian as Goliath drew closer. ‘But one of them is open at the moment, and some important people are there. I can ask them if they will give you permission to-’

Before he could finish, Goliath took him out with a single chop, just below the ear. As the man fell, Goliath moved round him, grabbed and locked the V formation of his left biceps and forearm under the man’s chin and with a crossing-over motion of his right arm, snapped the man’s neck.

Goliath didn’t even wince at the crunch, he simply dragged the Bedouin to the entrance to the tomb. The door was made of heavy iron and had a key still in the padlock – a thick snap-shut padlock, not one of those cheap jobs that you can pick with a hairpin.

When he reached the doorway, he leaned in to hear what was going on. He heard voices, male and female, engaged in earnest conversation about hymns and psalms. It was, no doubt, all very interesting. But not today. These people were dabbling in affairs that were not of this earth, and soon they too would no longer be on this earth. He threw the guardian’s body into the tomb, moved back and slammed the door after him. Then, with a swift movement, he closed the padlock and heard it click.

‘Hallo!’ a woman’s voice rang out from the tomb. ‘Who’s there?’

He heard a rumbling exchange of voices in English, but it was no longer of interest to him. He had more important things to do.

He didn’t know how long it would take them to die, and therein lay the problem. Had they told anyone where they were going? Even if they hadn’t said exactly, would their approximate location be enough to find them?

There was still, however, one factor that might give away their location: the jeep. It was big enough to be picked up by a satellite or an aeroplane. But then again, he realized, that wasn’t really a problem after all. In fact, it would also provide an easy way of getting a sample of their clothes.

Quick as a flash, he got into the jeep and drove back along the spur road to the main valley.

Gabrielle had been the first one to hear something going on above them. In fact, she was the only one to realize the significance of it. The others had heard the door slamming, but assumed it was the wind. Her initial inquiry in English had received no response, prompting Mansoor to switch to Arabic.

‘Nasir! aYn a’aNt! ’ shouted Mansoor.

Gabrielle and Daniel both understood. ‘Nasir, where are you?’

It was not a case of shouting from fear or anger, he had raised his voice simply because he wanted to be heard. But the silence that followed was frightening.

‘Nasir?… Hl Huneka… Nasir?’

‘M

Yhdth,’ Gabrielle shouted in her own flawless Arabic. ‘M

Yhdth.’ She was asking what was happening.

Daniel was wondering that too. He hadn’t yet reached the panic stage, but he was concerned.