yesterday. All of our victims grew up in the northeast ern United States. Sheriff Braden isn’t having any luck with missing persons. I want you to scan your drawings and save them as graphic files, JPEG, GIF, whatever works best on the Internet. I want you to locate a professional list serve, discussion board or whatever it’s called for plastic surgeons. Post the drawings of Blue and Green Doe, and see if anyone recognizes either of them. Mention where they grew up, Green’s heart condition and Blue’s tattoo of a butterfly on her ankle.’’
‘‘I could do the same thing with the tattoos,’’ said Neva. ‘‘Look for a discussion board about tattoos. Might get something.’’
‘‘Good idea. Okay, guys, you have your assign ments.’’ Diane stood up. ‘‘I’m going to be working in the museum if you need me.’’
‘‘You seem hyper today,’’ said David.
‘‘Hand-to-hand combat does that to you.’’
‘‘You weren’t hurt, were you?’’ he asked.
‘‘I’m fine. When I finally got to a safe bed, I got a good night’s sleep.’’
‘‘You’ve had some reporters calling,’’ said Andie, eying Diane as she came through the office.
‘‘What did you tell them?’’
‘‘That I didn’t know what the heck they were talk ing about. What the heck were they talking about?’’
Diane described the events of the previous evening, trying to make it sound casual, but failing miserably.
‘‘He’s in critical condition. Have no idea who he is.’’
Andie stared at her with her mouth open. ‘‘Is that the guy who sent the flowers?’’
‘‘Yes.’’
‘‘How is it that you attract all these weirdos?’’
‘‘I have no idea. I’m contemplating hiring someone to steal that interview the TV station has on file so they can’t play the damn thing again. I thought I was just giving generic answers, but they certainly seemed to set this guy off.’’
‘‘He was in your bedroom all the while?’’
‘‘Apparently so.’’
‘‘That’s creepy, not to mention scary.’’
‘‘I’m going to get some work done. I want only museum business calls. Send all reporters to the police for information.’’
‘‘Dr. F.’’ Korey stood in the doorway. ‘‘I’ve got something you need to see.’’
‘‘What’s that?’’
‘‘It’s up in the conservation room.’’
Diane nodded. ‘‘Sure.’’
She walked with Korey to the conservation lab lo cated on the second floor.
‘‘How did our mummy fare on his outing?’’ she asked.
‘‘He did fine. When we got him back, I went back in with the endoscope and took a sample of the tumor. That ought to be interesting.’’
Diane quickened her pace.
‘‘You have the amulets up there?’’
‘‘Sure do. Great stuff. You haven’t seen them?’’
‘‘No, and I would like to.’’
Korey grinned. ‘‘You’re going to like this, then.’’
Mike Seger was in the conservation room looking at the amulets when Diane arrived.
‘‘You tell her what you found?’’
‘‘Not yet. She wanted to see the amulets first.’’
‘‘This sounds mysterious.’’ Diane stopped at a table where twenty-one Egyptian artifacts were laid out on a piece of batting. ‘‘These are absolutely lovely.’’
They were small. The largest piece was a scarab about four inches long. Each piece had a card next to it saying what it was and what materials it was made from.
The scarab was alabaster and probably had been over his heart. Several small fish figurines made of alabaster and lapis lazuli lay in two rows. An in scribed cylinder of sandstone had the name Senusret III written on it, according to the card. There was another row
figure made
SHABTIS.
of several limestone figurines and a of black steatite that was labeled
‘‘That’s a Get Out of Work Free card for the after life,’’ said Korey, as Diane picked up the shabtis and turned it over in her hand. ‘‘According to Jonas, the writing on the back is a spell to let the person send the shabtis in his place if he was ever asked to do work. It seems that’s what the rich folk did in life too. When there was mandatory
