‘Let me take a good look first.’ Bryant’s desk-lamp revealed a little more information about the panel on the bracelet, but he needed a spotlight to see it properly. Dragging an illuminated magnifying stand from beneath his desk, he set the bracelet underneath and studied it through the distorting glass.
‘Oh, I think there’s a penis.’
May looked surprised. ‘I don’t see that. Are you sure?’
‘Quite sure. It’s rather faint.’ Bryant slid the bone panel under a sheet of paper and ran a pencil back and forth across the top. ‘See it now?’ He held up the rubbed sheet. ‘It isn’t just any penis, either. I’ve seen this before.’ He had that knowing smile on his face that May had come to dread, the one that said,
‘Go on, then. You’re dying to tell me.’
‘Look at the base. It’s a penis that’s not attached to a body. It’s got wings-you can just make out the traces. See these tall flowers in the background-they’re lotus leaves. And the other ones intertwined-that’s papyrus.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘The lotus flower and the papyrus reed are the symbols of Lower and Upper Egypt. When they’re tied together like this, a new meaning is created, an indication of unity and strength. These are very common symbols, especially when used in conjunction with river glyphs. Rivers feature strongly in Egyptian mythology because life springs from the waters of the Nile. But the penis. .’ He scratched thoughtfully at his unshaven chin. ‘According to Plutarch, Osiris was killed by his evil brother Seth, who tricked him into climbing inside a coffin which he then cast into the sea. He later ripped the corpse into fourteen pieces and threw them into the Nile. Isis and her sister Nephthys found all the pieces except the phallus, which had been swallowed by a crocodile, and buried them. They gave new life to Osiris, who stayed in the underworld as its judge and ruler. The penis of Osiris is therefore a potent symbol of fertility and rebirth.’
‘Very interesting. But does it have anything to do with Greenwood?’
‘It’s an Osiris bracelet representing death as a male and rebirth as a woman. It could simply mean the loss of the sun and the arrival of the moon, or any other great change. The flight symbolism is interesting. A winged penis was a Tudor icon used by the prostitutes of south London, specifically the ones working near the river between Blackfriars and Lambeth.’
‘Is the bracelet old?’
‘No, it’s probably quite recent. Things like this are still sold all over the Upper Nile. The symbolism is clearly connected with the site of its discovery. The bracelet cord and clasp are unbroken; it didn’t fall off someone’s wrist.’
‘I wonder why it was left there.’
‘I think we can work that out, John. Old beliefs never die. There’s hardly a building or thoroughfare in London that doesn’t contain a token somewhere in or under its construction. A more interesting question is
‘Let’s suppose he has a way of getting into the remaining Fleet tunnel,’ May suggested. ‘You said it doesn’t pass beneath any important buildings on its way to the river, but you may be wrong. There’s a discreet bank behind Ludgate Circus, a new one with smoked-glass windows and ram-raid-prevention bars, that deals with fund transfers from the Upper Nile. I think your first idea wasn’t so barmy after all, Arthur. Jackson Ubeda was born in Tennessee, but according to his file he’s of Egyptian extraction.’
‘You think he’s about to drop in on an old friend?’
‘Or an enemy.’ He helped Bryant gather up the maps. ‘There’s not a jot of evidence, of course, which means we’ll have to hope that Greenwood decides to go spelunking while we can still afford to keep an eye on him.’
‘I have a better idea,’ said Bryant. ‘Janice, would you step in here a moment?’
‘You won’t be able to bellow at me when they finally put a door on your office,’ Longbright warned. ‘What do you want?’
‘Tell me, do you own any valuable jewellery?’
‘On my salary? Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Well, could we perhaps borrow some for a couple of hours?’
‘You nearly got me fired the last time we raided the evidence room. Why?’
‘I want you to become a wealthy Egyptian woman for about half an hour.’
Sergeant Longbright straightened her skirt and wondered if she had overdone the eye make-up. She knew that older married women in Cairo sported the look one saw all around the Mediterranean, gold sunglasses and bright boxy jackets, but she felt like a cross between Cleopatra and Dalida. She was wearing an ostentatious emerald necklace which Bryant had borrowed from a sealed evidence bag, much to Kershaw’s horror. The waiting room of the Upper Nile Financial Services Group was a cool marble sarcophagus. Longbright seated herself between arrangements of dried flowers on plinths, like a bereaved relative waiting to view a corpse.
She had booked an appointment with the manager, Monsieur Edouard Assaad, explaining that she wished to transfer money from a town near the Sudanese border to an account in London, trusting that he would prefer to speak English rather than French or Arabic. To enter the building, she had been required to pass through a metal detector and have her bag examined, in line with the requirements of banking in Cairo. May specifically wanted to know about the building’s vault, and she was considering how to angle the conversation when M. Assaad arrived.
He had agreed to meet with Longbright to reassure her that Upper Nile FSG was the secure and sensible choice for a woman of means. Small and almost absurdly neat, from his waxed black tonsure to his freshly polished Oxford toecaps, he shook her hand warmly and ushered her to a side-room lined with crimson tapestries and low cushions.
‘I may also wish to deposit a number of valuable items with you,’ Longbright explained as a small silver tray of mint tea arrived. ‘Would that be possible?’
‘It can certainly be arranged,’ promised M. Assaad, supervising the ritual of pouring.
‘I was given to understand that you have a vault here on the premises.’
‘I’m afraid you have been misinformed, Madam. We primarily deal with electronic transactions, but if you wish, we will contact an affiliated company where space in a secure vault may be set aside for you.’
‘Thank you.’ She wondered if she had failed to observe the rules of formal hospitality, moving too quickly into the discussion of business. Like Bryant, Longbright had never been adept at small talk. ‘I was recommended to you by an old friend of mine, Mr Jackson Ubeda. I assume he is a client of yours?’
‘I am sure you would be the first to appreciate that we are unable to divulge the identities of our clients.’ M. Assaad’s gracious demeanour shifted slightly. Longbright could tell that she had made him suspicious. Or perhaps the mention of Ubeda’s name had bothered him.
She decided to press on. ‘Surely you do have some kind of underground storage facilities?’
‘Alas, no. The lower-ground floors were filled in many years ago. There were apparently some problems with damp undermining the building.’
‘That’s right, an old river runs near your property.’
‘So I have been told.’ M. Assaad was clearly losing patience. ‘Perhaps you would care to see our chief clerk, who will supply you with the appropriate documentation for your account.’ He punched out a number, covering the mouthpiece while he waited for a reply. ‘We have a great many friends and clients in Aswan-I am sure you will find our services invaluable.’
