Lady of Heaven (24 page)

Morgan glanced
at Fox as she spoke. “I gathered from reading your journal that you were
following the clues on the papyrus.”

Fanny nodded. “I
was.” The brown eyes glistened with long ago memories, things she hadn’t
thought of in years. It had been the best time of her life. “Kadin and I began
following them, positive we would make an astounding discovery. But when the
scandal broke, Louis left with everything and Kadin and I decided it would be
best to get on with our lives and not worry about the clues on the papyrus.
There would be time later for resume where we left off, but that time never
came.”

“How far did you
get?” Fox was standing behind Morgan, his massive arms folded across his chest,
listening to every word. “The papyrus has several major clues.”

Fanny lifted her
face in his general direction. “Not far,” she admitted. “Kadin knew where the
Ape’s Claw was located, or at least he thought he did, but we went no further.
I wish we had. Kadin wanted to, but he ended up having to protect me from his
first wife’s family instead. It took most of his time. It was… messy, so we
simply put our quest aside and forgot about it.”

Morgan gazed at
the old woman, digesting her words, reading between the lines.  After reading
Fanny’s journal and with all of the pieces she had put together from the past,
she understood everything perfectly.  It all made sense.

“What you did
for love… it’s something that people write stories about,” she murmured,
clasping a frail old hand.  “It’s quite a tale.”

Fanny smiled
faintly; she was beginning to feel very fatigued but trying not to show it. The
excitement of the past several moments had her wondering if she was dreaming.
If she was, she didn’t want to awaken. She could live in this dream forever.

“It was a
romantic adventure,” she agreed.

Morgan squeezed
her hand. “It’s not over yet.”

“What do you
mean?”

“The end of your
story hadn’t been written yet,” Morgan insisted. “I’m going to finish it for
you.”

Fanny cocked her
head, not understanding. “How, darling?”

Morgan smiled at
the old woman even though she couldn’t see her, feeling hope and joy and
ambition. Everything Fanny had come to Egypt with those years ago, Morgan felt
now.  She was going to finish Fanny’s romantic adventure with a bang.

“Fox and I are
going to follow the clues of the papyrus to the end,” she told her. “Fox is an
Egyptologist and a very good one. If anyone can figure it out, he can. For you,
for Kadin, even for Louis and William, we’re going to find what’s at the end of
this trail and write the ending to your story.”

Fanny
understood; she was both surprised and humbled.  But most of her was thrilled.
She took both of Morgan’s hands within her thin, cold ones and brought them to
her lips. She kissed Morgan’s hands sweetly.

“Something
is
there, darling,” she whispered. “I’ve always felt it.”

“If it’s there,
we’ll find it.”

Fox made the
declaration over Morgan’s shoulder, gazing down at the petite pair. He didn’t
know why, but in watching the two of them, he suddenly felt more driven to
follow the clues of the papyrus than even Morgan did.  Morgan was right;
Fanny’s story needed to have an ending.   As he spoke, both Fanny and Morgan
looked up at him.

“I believe you
will,” Fanny replied softly, finally letting go of Morgan’s hands and sinking
back against the pillows.  She was worn out. “I will apologize that I’m feeling
my age right now.  Perhaps we can continue this conversation another time.”

Morgan stood up.
“Of course,” she said, regarding the old woman a moment. “I can’t tell you what
this has meant to me today, Fanny. Thank you so much.”

Fanny reached up
a thin hand, which Morgan clutched tightly. “And you have made me very happy,”
she said softly. “I feel… I feel as if I have come full circle somehow. May I
make one request?”

“Of course.”

The journal was
still in her lap and she laid her hands upon it, reverently. “May…,” she began
again. “May I hold this for awhile?”

Morgan could
feel the tears again, stronger than before. “Absolutely,” she whispered. “Keep
it. It’s yours, anyway.”

Fanny smiled,
sighed, and closed her eyes. “I will hold it and dream of the days when I was
young and attractive, and this land was still mysterious and beautiful,” she
murmured. “I will see Kadin in my dreams, the tall beautiful man with the
flowing black hair.  And I will see you there, my beautiful great-granddaughter
with the pure soul. Will you meet me in my dreams, Morgan?”

Tears poured
down Morgan’s cheeks, so much emotion churning within her that she couldn’t
describe it. “I’ll be there,” she whispered.

Fanny sighed
with contentment, drifting off to meet those dreams. “And bring Fox,” she
murmured. “I think I would like to see him, too.”

“I will.”

She drifted off
to sleep, still holding Morgan’s hand.  Struggling not to let loose with
gut-busting sobs, Morgan set the old woman’s hand down gently on top of the
journal and quietly left the room with Fox and Allahaba in tow.  Allahaba shut
the door softly behind them.

Once outside in
the hallway, Fox stood there and held her as she sobbed deeply into his chest.

November 8, 1923

            The
journey down the Nile to Luxor has been one of the most wonderful journeys of
my life.  Louis and William stayed to the room but I was able to speak with
many fascinating travelers as they headed south. There was even a couple from
Russia! Mr. Sula has been very gracious in explaining Egyptian customs and
history. Tomorrow Luxor!

            ~FS

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The Blue River
antiquities shop was open but no one seemed to be around.  Beni stood in the
front of the shop, calling for the merchant but, after several minutes of no
results, moved into the back of the shop where he found a bell and started ringing. 
That seemed to bring a response.

A man with a
manicured beard and flowing white robes came in from the rear of the shop, his
dark eyes focused intently on Beni.

“
Salaam
,”
Allahaba greeted.

Beni bowed. “
Salaam
,”
he replied.

Having just come
from a very emotional scene upstairs with Fanny and Morgan, Allahaba’s patience
wasn’t at its best. He was still swept up in the family reunion ninety years in
the making.  He focused on the thin, older man.

“What may I help
you with?” he asked tolerantly.

Beni sensed that
the man was rushed, or impatient, or both, and he didn’t want their meeting to
start out on the wrong foot.  Alia would punish him greatly if he didn’t return
with some information about the man and why Fox Henredon met with him.  Alia
had even concocted a story for Beni to relay to see what the man’s reaction
would be, a cover story that would sound somewhat plausible coming from a
museum representative. So Beni took a stab at it.

“My name is
Kasim and I work for the Cairo Museum,” he said.  “We suspect that a very
valuable artifact is being marketed around to local dealers and we wanted to
inform you so that you may be on the look-out.”

Allahaba’s brow
furrowed. “What kind of artifact?”

Beni shook his
head. “We’re not sure, but we have reason to believe it’s very valuable.” His
gaze lingered on the man, watching for a reaction. “We believe that it has
something to do with
Khmsh
ʼ
Şāb
ʻ
Mn
ʼ
Ābl
, or Five
Fingers of the Ape, which is an ancient burial ground for early Middle Kingdom
soldiers near the second cataract.  We have information that alludes to
treasure hunters or vandals who have illegally excavated in this protected area
and perhaps might be attempting to sell the artifacts to reputable dealers.”

Allahaba shook
his head, waving him off even before he finished his sentence. “My sources are
licensed through the Supreme Council for Antiquities,” he said shortly. “I
would not jeopardize my business so.”

Beni nodded in
agreement. “I understand completely,” he said. “Still, there are rumors about. 
One of the vandals is alleged to be British, so be vigilant. You haven’t met
with any British treasure hunters over the past few weeks, have you? Has
someone tried to sell you something?”

It was a
leading, transparent question and not very well couched.  Allahaba began to
suspect there was more behind this man’s appearance than merely to warn of
suspected thieves; the mention of a British citizen was suspect considering Fox
Henredon had been in town for a couple of days. The questions were too coincidental
to be merely chance and his manner stiffened.

“No, I have
not,” he said, clipped. “I am very busy. You will leave now.”

Beni
respectfully moved for the door, shooed into a faster pace by Allahaba on his
heels.  “Will you notify the museum if someone tries to sell you any artifacts
at all?” he almost tripped over his own feet in his haste. “It is very
important that we follow the trail of these suspects.”

“Get out,”
Allahaba practically shoved Beni out of the door. “Go away.”

Beni stood on
the dusty walkway outside of Allahaba’s shop. “Sir, you must understand this is
very important.”

“I understand
completely,” Allahaba snapped. “I will not see your face here again. If I have
something I think the museum should know, then I will tell them.”

With that, he turned
on his heel and disappeared back into the bowels of the shop.  Beni watched the
man disappear through the backdoor, lingering in the walkway a moment before
finally leaving.  But he didn’t go completely.

Beni found a
cool corner in which to sit, watching Allahaba’s door to see if Fox Henredon
would make an appearance.

***

The strong,
sweet tea had calmed Morgan’s nerves and the delicious honey pastries had
filled her belly.  Seated at a clean-scrubbed table in Allahaba and Ziva’s
apartment, Fox sat next to her with a cup of coffee, listening to Allahaba’s
oldest daughters practice their English as Ziva bustled about in the kitchen. 
The oldest daughter couldn’t quite pronounce the word ‘thoroughly’ or ‘cloth’,
as she was having trouble with the ‘th’ sound.  It sounded like a‘d’ when she
said it.  Fox guided the girl through her English lesson as Morgan sat quietly
and calmed down.

Allahaba had
disappeared into the shop when a customer arrived.  He made a sudden
reappearance, snapping at the girls so that they fled the table.  When Ziva
scolded him, he snapped at her, too, and she fled the kitchen.  Alone with Fox
and Morgan, he took a seat opposite the pair.

“I just had a
very strange visitor,” he lowered his voice as he focused on Fox. “A man who
said he was from the Cairo Museum came to warn me about vandals or treasure
hunters selling illegally obtained artifacts.”

Fox sipped his
strong, black Arabic coffee. “Why is that strange?”

Allahaba lifted
his eyebrows. “Because he asked me if any British treasure hunters had been to
see me, coincidentally, during a time in which you have been to Cairo.  He
mentioned something about
Khmsh
ʼ
Şāb
ʻ
Mn
ʼ
Ābl
as the source of the illegally
obtained treasure.  Does this mean anything to you?”

 The cup froze
half-way to Fox’s lips.  He stared at Allahaba with his intense black eyes as
he lowered the cup to the table.

“Five Fingers of
the Ape,” he muttered.  Then his face screwed up in a scowl. “What in the f…?”

He trailed off,
looking at Allahaba as if the man had gone nuts. Allahaba merely lifted his
shoulders. “What did he mean?”

Fox was growing
increasingly troubled. “Who was this bloke?” he demanded. “What did he say his
name was?”

“He said his
name was Kasim,” Allahaba told him. “I have never seen him before. He seemed
nervous, odd. But I chased him away.  What does it all mean, Fox?”

Fox looked at
Morgan, who was gazing back at him with wide-eyes.  After a moment, he sighed
faintly and returned his focus to Allahaba.

“Oh, bugger,” he
exhaled as he sat back in his chair and raked his hand through his dark hair.
He snorted with irony and some bafflement. “This just keeps getting better and
better.”

Allahaba had no
idea what he meant. “Fox?” he pressed. “What is it?”

Fox had a
pensive, curious expression on his face, staring off to the ceiling as he
collected his thoughts. “I’m not sure,” he said. “But the phrase you mentioned
comes directly from the Lady of Heaven papyrus and the only person I mentioned
that to, other than Morgan, is a colleague at the Cairo Museum.”