Read Four Ways to Pharaoh Khufu Online
Authors: Alexander Marmer
Franz’s Wirtshaus Bistro, Berlin, Germany
Thursday, September 21
7:45 p.m.
“T
his place doesn’t look half bad,” said Anna as they walked inside Franz’s Wirtshaus Bistro, shaking off the raindrops. They made their way to the back where Michael made sure he was sitting facing the entrance, following a technique used by almost every law enforcement officer. The idea is to always face the entrance and not sit with your back to it, as if in anticipation of a dangerous subject walking through the door. Michael’s life motto, “prepare for the worst and hope for the best,” was always in motion. The German culture’s propensity for bright lighting meant that even their back booth was filled with cheerful light.
“I’m starving!” Michael exclaimed, looking at his wristwatch. “Wow! It’s a quarter to eight.”
The waitress brought their menus. While Anna spoke with her, Michael scanned his menu.
I wish this was in English,
he thought, suddenly feeling tired.
Noticing Michael’s expression, Anna leaned forward, “Let me help you out. You might like … sauerbraten. It’s really good.”
“What’s that?”
“Roast beef. You can get a side order of potato dumplings or mashed potatoes to go with it.”
“Sure, that’s sounds good. I’ll have the mashed potatoes,” Michael started to smile. “Is that what you’re getting?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll get a beer, too,” added Michael.
As the waitress walked away, Anna leaned over conspiratorially, “So, what do you think? What are we gonna do?”
Michael leaned forward as well, whispering, “Wait for our food.”
Anna chuckled, “Oh, come on, you know what I meant.”
“Well, two men are chasing us all over Berlin so they can get their hands on a package your father sent to you before he died. These men believe that whatever is in that package will lead them to the ancient stele your father supposedly stole from their tribe, right?”
Anna nodded in agreement.
“After what happened today, I think there are more people involved in this chase.”
“You really believe there are more tribesmen here in Germany?”
“Don’t be surprised if more people are involved. It depends on how powerful their organization is.”
“So, almost anybody here could be a spy?”
Michael leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “Take, for example, our waitress.”
“Oh, come on, Michael,” she started to laugh.
Michael sat back with a wry smile.
Anna reached into her purse. “Can I have the papyruses?” she asked, gently taking out a magnifying glass and placing it on the table.
Michael gave her a puzzled look, but pulled out the bag and handed it across the table to her. “What’s this?” He looked pointedly at the magnifying glass.
Anna was busy unrolling and opening the bag. “David let me borrow it,” she said softly, not looking at him.
Michael looked at her firmly and cleared his throat.
Anna glanced at him, pulling out the papyrus with the pencil rubbing and placing it on the table. “OK, ok,” she sighed. “I took it, but I’ll return it to David as soon as we figure everything out.” She picked up the magnifying glass and looked through it at the papyrus. “So, what do you think about this?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” said Michael, taking the magnifying glass from her hand. He studied the papyrus, adding, “I think your friend David was right, there is more to it. Here, take a look.”
Taking back the magnifying glass, Anna agreed, “Yes, I can definitely see the bottom edge is unfinished.”
“Well, there could be two possible explanations: either the person who made the rubbing was scared off and couldn’t finish it,” Michael said, thinking. “Or that’s the only remaining part of the artifact that survived until this day.”
The waitress came bustling back to their table, plates in hand. Anna quickly moved everything safely to the side. After she had settled their plates, the waitress smiled at them, “Bon Appetit!”
Anna smiled back at her, “
Danke
.
”
The waitress hurried away as they started eating. “So, you think this stele was an ancient artifact made during Pharaoh Khufu’s reign?” asked Anna, pausing to wipe her hands.
“I’m just assuming that there’s a possibility that an ancient stele was found and that the papyrus is the proof of that.”
“Do you think my father made the pencil rubbing?”
“Quite possible.”
Anna took another bite and chewed slowly, deep in thought. “Do you think he stole this ancient stele?” she looked up at Michael sadly.
“No, I don’t think so,” said Michael, using his most reassuring tone of voice.
The waitress appeared at their table again, dropping off a pair of beer bottles and tall glasses.
Reaching for a bottle, Michael began pouring the creamy liquid into a glass. He took a sip and set his glass down. “Wow. This is not very cold.”
“Yes, that’s how we drink it.” Anna replied patiently.
“You’re right. Sorry. It’s fine. OK, you told me your father was helping restore the Great Pyramid?”
“Yes. The last time he called me, he was working with a French company to install a new air ventilation system inside the Great Pyramid.”
“OK, here is what I think happened in Egypt. Your father found an ancient artifact by accident. Then he hid it somewhere, not knowing what to do with it. After all, he was an electrical engineer, not an archeologist with permission to excavate. Somehow the members of some ancient tribe found out about it and started blackmailing your father so he’d give it back. He didn’t want to reveal its location, so they poisoned him.”
Anna listened carefully to Michael’s trail of thoughts.
“But of all the places they could poison him, why would they do it inside the Great Pyramid?” she asked suddenly.
“I don’t understand that either.”
“Hopefully we’ll find out one day,” said Anna. “I know my father isn’t a thief.”
“I assure you; I truly believe that too.”
Anna nodded thoughtfully, picking up the other bottle and pouring herself a glass. “Okay, then why would he send the pencil rubbing to me?” Anna rolled her eyes. “We weren’t that close after he divorced my mom several years ago.” Abruptly, Anna’s eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t wanna forgive him.” She lowered her face, picked up her napkin and dried her tears. She blew her nose and took some slow, deep breaths, calming herself.
“Anna, I don’t understand why he sent it to you,” Michael said sadly. “And quite frankly, I know your father never stopped loving you.”
“Michael, I don’t know what to think anymore,” said Anna, looking up miserably. Michael reached inside his jacket, pulled out a small brown notebook and handed it to her. As she started slowly flipping through the pages, she looked up at Michael in surprise, “This is my father’s.”
“He gave it to me.” He grimaced, “I’m sorry, I wish I had thought of it earlier.”
“Me too.”
“Do you see anything unusual in there?”
“Well, I’m looking through it right now,” she said, carefully turning the pages over. “There are at least a hundred names in here,” she said, scanning the pages. “Are you suggesting we start calling every one of them? And what exactly are we going to ask?” She laughed, “Excuse me, did my father tell you about an ancient artifact he found in Egypt?”
“Are there any archaeologists in that notebook?”
“Possibly, but I have no clue who they would be,” she paused and gave it some thought. “Actually, all of his contacts could be archaeologists. He always considered himself to be one of them even though he was an electrical engineer.”
“Anything related to the pyramids?” he asked. “The Great Pyramid in particular?”
“Not really, nothing about pyramids at all,” said Anna closely examining the pages. She stopped. “This could be something.”
“What?”
“I just found your mystical phrase.” She pointed to one of the lines inside the pocketbook.
Hr. Kirilov — Moskau, Russland —“Vier Möglichke
iten.”
“What does that mean?” Michael asked.
“It’s in German, and it says ‘four ways.’”
“You mean it’s actually written, ‘
four ways’
? The hairs were standing up on the back of his neck.
“It says Mister Kirilov — Moscow, Russia — ‘four ways.’”
“Your father said that to me!” he exclaimed excitedly. “But who is Mr. Kirilov?”
“I have no idea, but we will need to talk to him in order to shed some light on this.”
“Is there a phone number for him?”
“I’m looking,” she paused, turning the pages. “No, unfortunately no address, no phone number.”
“Is it possible to call information and ask for someone in Russia?”
“Sure, I can try,” said Anna, reaching for her purse.
“I’m going to the men’s room.”
When Michael returned, Anna was still talking on the phone. She ended the call, “No luck, his phone number is not listed.”
“Well, then there’s only one thing left to do,” said Michael as he sat down, a thoughtful look on his face.
“Are you suggesting we go to Russia?” asked Anna, not sure whether Michael was serious or joking. “I’ve never been to Russia and have always wanted to visit. It’s an amazing country; I’ve heard so much about it,” Anna chattered happily. She paused, looking at his face. “I still have two more weeks of unused vacation,” she added.
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Michael was looking at her incredulously. “What I meant was that we could Google his name.”
“Oh! OK, I can do that,” she laughed, a bit embarrassed. She focused on her cell phone, keying in words. “Here,” she held the cell phone so he could look at it with her. “Your search –
Kirilov Russia
– did not match any documents,” flashed across the screen. “Nothing,” she glanced at Michael. “We gotta go there,” she added eagerly.
Michael looked at her like she had two heads.
“We’re going to Russia!” she exclaimed merrily, ignoring him.
“You can’t be serious,” he shook his head. “Russia is an enormous country.”
“Yes, I am serious,” said Anna. “And we can get away from Seth and the tribesman.” She paused, watching him. “We’re going to Russia!” she exclaimed again.
Michael remained silent, deep in thought.
“What? Don’t look at me like that,” she pouted. “You hinted first. Come on, say it!” she demanded, a grin eagerly spreading across her face.
“OK,” he finally blurted out, feeling pushed.
“
Fräulein
!” Anna called for the waitress so they could settle the bill.
“Visit Russia before Russia visits you,” Michael pondered as he absent-mindedly pushed aside his dinner plate.
Franz’s Wirtshaus Bistro, Berlin, Germany
Thursday, September 21
8:30 p.m.
A
fter paying for their meal, they wound their way through the boisterous crowd to the front door. Looking through the bistro’s window, Michael spotted someone running past. He turned to Anna, “Stay here.” He jogged to the front door and looked outside. He resolutely looked back and forth, but the person had vanished.
Mystified, Michael opened the bistro’s front door. Hearing a loud commotion down the street, he turned and observed a man being chased by an angry crowd. The mob’s frenzy was palatable. Just as the man was about to escape, another mob emerged from around a corner, blocking the man’s only route to escape. A blood-curdling yell sliced through the evening air, followed by others.
In a few seconds the running man was abreast with the bistro
.
To his own astonishment Michael suddenly recognized the desperate man.
The Medjay!
The tribesman who had brushed past him in Egypt, the man responsible for the death of Anna’s father, the man who had kidnapped Anna herself at knifepoint that very day.
The Medjay stopped short in front of the bistro
,
winded and helpless. Michael stood still, mesmerized. The Medjay was a foot away from him, within arm’s reach. Amazed by this turn of events, he realized he only needed to block the Medjay’s way and the frenzied, screaming crowd would immediately have him.
The mob was closing in on their prey, chanting excitedly, seeing their victim’s inevitable fate. The Medjay slowly turned, his eyes leveling with Michael’s and widening with recognition. Suddenly, despite the fact that Michael’s life was in danger from that same Middle Eastern warrior, he grabbed the Medjay’s tunic and abruptly pulled him inside the bistro.
The two ran to the back, zigzagging around several tables despite the indignant hollers of the raucous and drunk customers. Still holding onto the Medjay’s sleeve, Michael pulled the warrior into the kitchen. They burst through the kitchen door to the amazement of the cooks and through the back door to the outside.
Back at the front door, Anna was speechless. Her mind was confused and reeling from the scene she had just witnessed, but could not believe.
Michael was helping the Medjay escape?!
The roar of the bistro faded into the background as she sat down on a nearby chair.
Michael was disappointed after rushing through back door. He had imagined that it opened into an alleyway. Instead, it was a courtyard with a grassy park, circled by trees and bushes. The foliage was thick and glossy, still dripping from the day’s rain. Michael started heading in one direction, but a small glass door happened to catch his eye. He turned and raced toward it. As he neared, he realized it was propped open ever so slightly. He grabbed the handle and flung it open. Sprinting past a surprised family in raincoats waiting for their elevator, Michael headed for a glass door that looked promising. As he slammed through the doorway, he groaned when he realized that it opened into yet another courtyard. Berlin is an old city and although it has orderly streets, Michael was finding it to be filled with nooks and crannies. As he sprinted past benches and tables he could see that the courtyard opened into an alley.
Michael looked to his left and saw that the wide alley ended at another building. He turned right, deftly skirted around a small pickup truck and kept running. He instinctively looked back; the Medjay was on his heels. He turned left onto the sidewalk, not wanting to run back into the arms of the chanting, salivating mob. Relief flooded his mind when he saw they were approaching a tree-filled park. He was not sure how large it was but felt assured of disappearing into the thick stand of trees and overgrown bushes.
The dark and solemn park provided a shadowy cover for Michael and the Medjay as they sped over the wet, slick grass. The large leaves dripped rainwater, and as they brushed past the thick bushes, droplets of water exploded onto them. They raced behind an old stage and only slowed down as they cautiously exited the other side. With no one in sight, Michael headed for a break in the bushes, hoping to find an exit.
Leaving the park, they ran through a maze of interconnecting streets. During the entire run Michael remained ahead, occasionally looking back to make sure that the Medjay was still behind him. To Michael’s surprise, not only did the Medjay keep close, but also seemed to be giving him a run for his money.
Michael could hear a buzz of people so he followed the growing clamor to a busy, lighted market area. He slowed down, merging with the crowd. Michael stopped, looking around desperately for the Medjay. The warrior had disappeared. Pleased with himself, Michael turned and slowly jogged back the way he had come.
When he reached the bistro, he found Anna waiting for him just inside the front door. Her arms were crossed and her face was filled with emotion. “You just pulled a
Der Polnische Abgang
Michael!” she said sternly.
“What?” Michael was a bit winded and not understanding her German. He motioned for her to come outside. The bistro had gotten even louder; the air was hot and thick to him after running so hard. He relished the cool, crisp air as he walked over to a tree and leaned against it. “What are you saying?” he asked as she approached him.
“You just pulled what we Germans call a Polish Retreat,” she replied irately. He was stretching his legs methodically. “You ran off without saying anything at all!”
He looked over at her, smiling.
“I don’t understand why you helped him,” she asked, her voice trembling. “He would have been captured and all our problems would have been solved.” She went on to grimly inform him that they were in Kreuzberg, a borough populated predominately by Turkish immigrants. Unfortunately, the Egyptian tribesman had stolen something from the wrong kind of people in the wrong place.
Michael remained silent, still focusing on his cooling muscles.
“And,” she continued crossly, “it’s cold out here!”
He continued to carefully stretch his limbs while deep in thought.
Anna looked at him solemnly, “You don’t even know why you helped him, do you?”
Michael stopped stretching and looked Anna in the eyes. “He was frightened,” he said quietly. “I couldn’t just leave him there to get lynched by that mob.”