A soft knock, and the secretary entered with Stone’s coffee. He took a sip, then turned back to Logan. “Well, I’m not going to be coy anymore. You’ve graduated to the inner circle.” He regarded his guest, his eyes dancing with the same private amusement Logan had noticed before. “You recall that Narmer was-according to most Egyptologists-the unifier of upper and lower Egypt?”
“Yes,” Logan said.
“And you recall that he wore the ‘double’ crown, representing the red and the white crowns of the two Egypts-the sacred relics of the unification?”
Logan nodded.
Stone let his gaze roam slowly around the office for a moment. “It’s a very curious thing, Jeremy. Did you know that no crown of an Egyptian pharaoh has ever been found-not one? Even King Tut’s tomb, which was discovered intact and unlooted, containing absolutely everything he needed to take with him on his journey to the next world, contained no crown.”
He let this fact settle in a moment before going on. “There are several theories why. One is that the crown had magical properties that somehow prevented it from passing into the next world. Another-more popular among scholars, naturally-is that there was never more than one such crown in existence, passed down from one king to the next: thus it was the one thing that couldn’t be taken on the journey to the underworld. But the fact is, nobody knows for sure why one has never been found.”
Stone picked up the disk again, turned it over in his hand. “What Petrie saw on this ostracon were four hieroglyphs dating from a very early period.” Extending a finger, Stone pointed to them in turn. “This first is a representation of the red crown of upper Egypt. The second is the white crown of lower Egypt. The third is a hieroglyph of a vault, or resting place. And the last is a primitive serekh containing Narmer’s name.”
In the silence that followed, Stone put the ostracon back on the table, inscription side down, and placed his coffee cup atop it.
Logan barely noticed. His mind was working quickly. “Do you mean to tell me…”
Stone nodded. “This ostracon is the key to the biggest-and I mean the biggest-archaeological secret in history. It’s why Petrie dropped everything and left his comfortable retirement to undertake a long, dangerous, and ultimately unsuccessful search. It tells us that King Narmer was buried with the original two crowns of Egypt: the white and the red.”
22
The senior staff lounge, located down the corridor from Oasis in the Station’s Blue wing, was a space in which the movers and shakers of the expedition could gather for relaxation and friendly chat. The fact that lower- level staff were denied admittance meant that even sensitive aspects of the work could be discussed informally without fear of betraying any secrets.
Jeremy Logan entered the lounge with a distinct feeling of curiosity. He’d been unable to visit it before, but his newfound status with Porter Stone meant that all doors-most, anyway-were now open to him. The lounge was better appointed than the other spaces he’d seen, even Stone’s own office. The walls were covered in a veneer of dark wood, and chairs and sofas of burgundy leather were arranged over thick Turkish rugs. These appointments, along with the heavy brass lamps, gave the lounge the feeling of an Edwardian men’s club.
Logan put down his duffel on an empty chair and glanced around. Urns of coffee and hot water stood on a long table in the back, along with cucumber sandwiches and madeleines. One wall was lined with bookshelves; the others displayed framed landscapes and sporting prints. He wandered over to the wall of books and briefly scanned their titles. There were numerous current thrillers, lots of nineteenth-century English novels, and biographies, histories, and works of philosophy. In fact, there was everything, it seemed, except anything on Egypt or archaeology. It was almost as if this room was meant as a determined escape from the project at hand. He thought back to the bridge games he’d observed, recalled what Rush had told him about Stone’s belief in diversion from the business at hand.
Three people were sitting around a table, speaking in low tones. Logan saw Fenwick March, Tina Romero, and a cinnamon-haired woman whose back was to him. Tina smiled at him; March gave a curt nod, as if to imply Logan’s presence in the lounge was at the second-in-command’s own sufferance.
Logan chose a magazine at random from one of the tables and sat down, loath to intrude on their conversation, but Tina waved him over. “Come on, Jeremy,” she said. “Maybe you’ll learn something.”
Logan retrieved his duffel and joined the group. As he did so, he saw the face of the other woman. It was Jennifer Rush. Seeing her up close made him briefly go weak at the knees. She had her hair in a severe French twist-precisely the style his own wife had always favored. Except that, even to his hardly objective eyes, Jennifer Rush was far more beautiful. She had an oval face, with high cheekbones and a narrow, sculpted chin, and amber eyes. The combination was exotic, and in a way Logan thought she resembled an Egyptian princess herself.
Jennifer Rush smiled briefly at him. “You must be Dr. Logan,” she said.
“The enigmalogist,” March said. “You two should have a lot in common.” He turned back to Tina Romero. “In any case, I think you and Stone are wrong. We’re not going to find the crown inside the tomb.”
“So you say,” Tina replied. “And what makes you so sure?”
“Because no such thing has ever been found in any tomb.” He leaned forward. “What kinds of things are traditionally discovered in later pharaonic tombs? Offerings of food and drink. Ushabti. Statuary. Jewelry. Gaming pieces. Canopic jars. Funerary offerings. Inscriptions from The Book of the Dead. Even boats, for God’s sake. And what do they all have in common? Just one thing: they aid the pharaoh in his journey from our world to the next and they provision him for that next world.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Crowns-they are of this world.”
“Sorry, but I don’t buy it,” Tina said. “He would be pharaoh in the next world, just as he had been here. He would need his trappings of power.”
“If that is true, then why have no crowns ever been discovered-even in unlooted tombs?”
“Be as skeptical as you want,” Tina said, her voice a notch higher. “But the fact remains: Narmer went to incredible trouble, unheard-of trouble, to keep his tomb secret. Other First Dynasty pharaohs were content with the mud-brick tombs at Abydos. But not Narmer. His tomb wasn’t even a cenotaph, like the royal tombs at Saqqara-a symbolic grave-it was a goddamn fake! Think of the lengths he went to, the dangers he took, the lives he sacrificed, to keep the location of his real burial chamber a secret. So tell me, Fenwick, old boy: If it isn’t the double crown that’s hidden in that tomb- then what is buried down there beneath the Sudd? ”
And she sat back, a triumphant look on her face.
March looked at her, an arch smile on his lips. “A very good question. What-if anything?”
Tina’s triumphant look morphed into a scowl.
March turned to Jennifer Rush. “But maybe we should be asking you that question. What secrets have come to you from beyond, pray tell?”
The faint tinge of sarcasm in the archaeologist’s voice was impossible to miss. Nevertheless, Jennifer Rush didn’t rise to the bait. “My findings are confidential between my husband, me, and Dr. Stone,” she replied. “If you want to know more-ask them.”
March waved a hand. “That’s all right. I hope you don’t mind my skepticism, Mrs. Rush-but as an empirical scientist, who bases his beliefs on reproducible evidence, I have a hard time placing much credence in parapsychology and pseudoscience.”
Something in March’s haughtily dismissive attitude got Logan’s goat. “An empirical scientist,” he interjected. “And reproducible evidence might scour that dubious tone from your voice?”
March glanced toward him, as if sizing up a potential opponent. “Naturally.”
“What about Zener cards, then?” Logan said.
For a moment, Jennifer Rush’s eyes fell upon him, before glancing away again.
March frowned. “Zener cards?”
“Otherwise known as Rhine cards. Used in experiments on extrasensory perception.” He pulled his duffel toward him, rummaged in it for a moment, then pulled out a set of oversize cards and showed them to the group. Each held one of five different designs against a white background: a circle, a square, a star, a cross, and three wavy lines.
