Marjorie Thelen - The Hieroglyphic Staircase

“Hi. You must be doctora Palomares. They told me at the guard house that you’d be at the Hieroglyphic Staircase.”

No, not someone’s maid. She spoke English with only a slight hint of Spanish accent.

“I am Consuela Lascano,” she said with a bright smile, showing perfect white teeth. “Everyone calls me Connie.”

She held out her hand, and Elena shook with her. What a smile. Who was this person? She waited for some explanation, baffled why this young girl was looking for her. Maybe something happened in town, and she was sent to summon Elena. Close up Elena could find not a wrinkle on the girl’s face. She wore no eye makeup or lipstick, standard fare for any fashionable Latina. Large, dark, doe shaped eyes with long lashes and full Mayan lips made her a natural beauty.

Who was she and what did she want?

Correctly reading Elena’s thoughts, Connie said, “I am from the Department of Security. I have been assigned to investigate the mysterious deaths here. I understand you are the person who can shed some light on these events. Do you have time to talk?”

Elena nearly fell over backward. “You mean you’re the new inspector?”

“Yes, that’s right.” She laughed. “I know I don’t look the part, do I? No. I look very young. I work in the undercover division, you see. We try to keep a very low profile. It helps in our line of work.”

“Department of Security in the government of Honduras?” asked Elena.

“Yes, we are part of the national government but we also do international work. That’s why I speak English. It was a job requirement.”

“You speak it very well.”

“I spent a few years in the States. As a matter of fact I went to school there. Stanford. California. Criminal justice.”

She must have been about two when she entered college. Her youthful appearance didn’t add up to that many years.

“Here,” Connie said and pulled a thin clip of cards out of her skirt pocket. “Here is my ID. I can see you don’t believe a word I say.” She was still smiling as she handed the badge to Elena, like this wasn’t the first time someone didn’t believe who she was.

It was a photo ID of the young woman, a good likeness, properly laminated and with the seal of Honduras. Departamento de Seguridad was lettered across the top, a hologram ran down the side, an ID number was under the photo.

Elena handed the badge back to Connie. “Good photo. Where do we start?”

Dominic couldn’t find Elena when he went by the Archaeological Park after the clinic closed. That sent him into gut twisting panic. Security had become tighter on the road into the Park. A roadblock had been set up after reporters had tried to storm the Park, looking for a story. Dominic had gained entry only because the guard, Edmundo, recognized him. He stood in the parking lot of the closed Museum, wondering where in creation Elena had disappeared to. He had walked to the Hieroglyphic Staircase, expecting to find her working there but she was nowhere to be found.

Edmundo had told him the new inspector had arrived and had interviewed Elena for a long time. The new inspector was a very pretty female according to Edmundo. But she had departed more than an hour ago, and no one seemed to be left on the grounds except half a dozen guards. They hadn’t seen Elena since the new inspector left.

The sun was almost down. His uneasiness grew, thinking how Elena was out there somewhere alone and unprotected. He considered circling the Museum once more to see if maybe she was in the back, or had taken a walk, when he saw her walking toward him from the direction of the wooded area behind the Museum.

He hurried to her. “Thank God, you’re safe.” He checked her over to make sure she didn’t have a scratch. “I had the awful feeling something had happened when I couldn’t find you.”

“I’m sorry, Dominic,” she said. “I spent most of the afternoon with the new inspector. We had to visit the crime sites, and she asked just shy of a million questions. What a steel trap mind that girl has. Every detail I told her she remembered and could recall half an hour later in regards to something else.”

“Is this inspector any friendlier than the previous one?”

“Oh, my yes,” she said. “She has a delightful sense of humor, speaks incredible English, and has traveled all over the world, working as a detective for various international agencies. Isn’t that something? And she looks like she should be in grade school.”

“I’m glad someone assigned a decent investigator this time. Someone who isn’t trying to pin the blame on you. Did she seem suspicious?”

Elena shook her head. “No, she didn’t express an opinion one way or another. She said she’s fact finding. I told her about Miguel. They will form a search party to look for him, if we don’t find him. That’s where I was just now.” She gestured with a wave of the hand, “I was out in the bush looking around, calling for him. But, nothing. The little devil.”

“It’s getting too dark to search any longer,” said Dominic.

“Right. I left my computer inside the Museum. Will you wait here while I get it?”

“No, I’m going with you.”

In the Museum their footsteps rang in the still air.

“I stowed my gear in the director’s office,” she said.

The door to the office stood open, the desk in full view in the center of the doorway. Elena rounded the desk, opened the lower drawer and extracted her computer. She joined Dominic in the courtyard where he stood gazing at the huge, fierce face of a bird god with green feathers and golden talons carved on the side of the temple.

Dominic said, “I’m glad I don’t have to tangle with that guy. He’s looks tough.”

Elena laughed. “You won’t since he’s frozen in stone. Such a beast only existed in the minds of the Mayans.”

They walked to the entrance where the door stood slightly ajar.

Elena stopped and listened. “Do you hear that tapping? I heard it in the office, and I thought it must be a bird. But there it goes again.”

Dominic listened, cocking his head to one side like the right ear might be a little better than the left. Then a noise sounding like cheet, cheet came to Dominic’s ears. “I hear something but I can’t identify where it’s coming from with the size of this place. It’s hard to pinpoint a source.”

A stone rolled across their path, and they both jumped.

“Where did that come from,” said Elena.

“Over here,” said a tiny voice.

They looked around.

“I’m by the door. In the shadows. I don’t want anyone to see me.”

“It’s Miguel,” said Dominic.

He pulled Elena to a stela just behind the door. The boy stood in the shadows.

“ Doctora ,” said Miguel, “I heard you calling me but I could not answer. You see, the man is looking for me. He has been hanging around the nature trail. It has been difficult to get something to eat. Do you have anything to eat with you?”

Elena fished in her many-pocketed vest and withdrew an unopened pack of banana chips. “Here,” she said, “this should help. And this.” She fished in another pocket and pulled out a stick of beef jerky, vacuum packed.

“ Gracias ,” said Miguel.

Elena pushed shut the great door of the Museum. “There. Now no one will see you. We can talk.”

The child opened the beef jerky with his teeth and chewed off a chunk, stuffing his thin cheeks with a wad of meat. Elena led him to the stone bench along the wall, placed so that visitors could get a view of the panorama of the great open room. Dominic followed, and the three settled onto the seat.

She produced a small bottle of water and handed it to Miguel, which he opened and drank in gulps. After he had finished the beef jerky and started on the chips, Dominic asked, “How are you getting on, Miguel?”