Marjorie Thelen: The Hieroglyphic Staircase

“They aren’t there,” he said and pointed in the direction of the top of the Staircase. “Look. Someone is at the bottom. It looks like that man.”

Paco and Dominic exchanged glances.

Paco pulled out his gun. “Wait here,” he said. “Let me go first.” He held the gun up in the air and advanced cautiously toward the prone body.

“Elena is gone,” Miguel said in a small voice.

Dominic dropped to a crouch in front of Miguel and clasped his arms. “Where was she the last time you saw her?”

Miguel pointed to the top of the pyramid. “On the stairs. She said she knew the hiding place and was taking the man to it.”

“Hiding place?” Dominic said. “What hiding place?”

Miguel shrugged his shoulders covered by a soggy T-shirt. “I don’t know. She said somewhere on the Staircase. That man thinks there’s a hiding place. He made us come here in the storm to find it.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dominic caught movement of a figure on the trail behind them. He turned, hoping it was Elena. But it was José. Strangely enough, he was pointing a gun at them.

José said, “Now you are going to tell me where the hiding place is.”

“What are you doing?” Dominic stood up, holding fast to Miguel’s hand.

“Don’t come any closer,” said José.

“What do you mean? I thought you were a policeman,” said Dominic. A new surge of adrenalin fired through his veins.

“I am. Just not an honest one.” He gestured to Miguel. “We’re going to that hiding place.”

“I don’t know where it is,” said Miguel. “Elena wouldn’t tell the man where it was. She said she had to show him.”

“Then we’d better find Elena,” said José. He stepped to one side, peering through the trees. “Where is Paco?”

“He went to the Staircase,” Dominic said. “There’s someone lying at the bottom.”

“It’s that stupid Jorge,” said José. “He bungles every job. I don’t know how he ended up in this operation. I hope he’s dead. That will put an end to his bungling.”

“Is Paco in this with you?” asked Dominic.

José shook his head. “No, Paco is an honest man. I hope nothing bad happens to him. So keep that in mind. All I want to know is where the hiding place is.”

“Is that what this has been about? A hiding place?” asked Dominic.

José nodded his close shaved head. “Yes. The hiding place. The guy that got killed knew where it was, but Jorge killed him before he showed anybody. Dumb bastard’s always going off like that.”

He pointed the gun at Miguel. “Where’s Elena?”

“I don’t know. She ran away, I think.”

José said, “Then we’d better find her.”

Elena came to, lying sprawled in the rubble at the back of the Staircase pyramid. Rain pattered on her face and cooled the heat and swelling of her cheek. She opened one eye and looked into the trees overhead. They moved fitfully in the wind, but it was far from the ferocious fury of the night before. She was very, very tired. She wanted to close her eyes and sleep right there on the hard rubble. Something nagged at her consciousness as she drifted. Weird figures and shapes swirled around in her mind. She wanted to sleep. But there was something she had to do. There was something she had to do, if she could just remember.

She struggled to sit up. Sharp rocks bit into her back and legs. She winced and eased into a sitting position. Then she remembered. Miguel had escaped, and Jorge had crashed to the bottom of the stairs. She half crawled the few feet to the top of the pyramid and peered over the rocks.

Jorge lay at the bottom, not moving. To her surprise, a man was standing over him. Elena ducked down so she couldn’t be seen. Who was he? She had no idea whose side he was on.

One thing was certain — she wasn’t going to try to figure it out. Chances were it was one of Jorge’s friends come to help him. She would head back to town on the main road. Maybe someone would be out now that the hurricane was weakening, and they would help her.

She didn’t want to be seen while she was in the Park, so she eased out of the rubble, taking care not to make a sound. The best way to stay hidden was to go around the outside perimeter of the great plaza. Trees hung over the stone step structures that formed the outer walls. Staying hidden would be easier. She didn’t want to chance walking out into the open courtyard dotted with stelae and debris. Her path would be in the opposite direction from the jungle path.

Then she heard something that didn’t fit. Were there voices?

Crouching behind the half-ruined wall adjoining the rubble, she listened but couldn’t tell from what direction the sound was coming. She peeked over the top of the wall, trying to see. The only sound was the wind in the trees, and water dripping everywhere.

She was sure she heard voices. She listened. Maybe it was only her imagination.

From her high perch she gazed over the valley beyond the ruins. An angry brown slash scoured its way through the greenness of the jungle. The river had spread far out of its banks and was more like a huge lake than a river. Elena cursed her luck. It flowed under the road back to town. She might not be able to get across. She might not be able to find help, if she went this way.

She leaned her head against the hard stone of the wall. Exhaustion dogged her every thought. Every cell in her body ached. Even thinking was painful.

A sound like a gunshot cracked through the stillness. Then a scream.

She had to get out of there.

Keeping an eye on Paco, José forced Dominic and Miguel to walk within the shelter of the trees bordering the clearing. Jorge was either dead or beyond repair because Paco got up and walked toward the jungle path where he expected to find Dominic and Miguel waiting. José motioned them up the path to the top of the Temple of Inscriptions, up the path where the murder had taken place. Tall, skinny trees and brush provided cover. They made it to the top where they could look out over the great plaza, the very spot Elena was headed the day she discovered the body.

Jorge’s body lay at the bottom of the Hieroglyphic Staircase. No one else was in sight. Dominic searched every available space for some sign of Elena. She might blend in easily with the waterlogged landscape. José stood slightly behind him. Miguel clutched Dominic’s hand.

José said, “Do you see her? I don’t. We’ll go to the back of the Staircase pyramid and search there.”

He motioned with the gun for Miguel to lead the way. Miguel stepped up three stairs that lead to the walkway between the two pyramids. The corridor stretched between the Temple of Inscriptions and the Staircase pyramid. To the left of the path vertical walls joined the two structures. Along the top where they walked was a stone path that served as a connecting link along the top of the walls.

Dominic followed Miguel, heavy footed and discouraged. He didn’t want to find Elena only to have her used by this crooked policeman. He hoped she had run far away. His bargain with God was not working out. There were too many obstacles. He was afraid he’d never see Elena alive again. There were too many guns involved, too many irrational people in possession of guns.

He looked up to see where they were heading and saw movement ahead on the path where a low wall jutted out. Just a flash of something. He wiped his forearm across his eyes to clear his vision. Things were blurred by rain and the unhappy wind that chased around the pyramids. He continued to watch the place where he thought he had seen something, trying to be discreet so José wouldn’t notice. If they found Elena and the hiding place, what would happen then?