2 Spirit of Denial (4 page)

Rows of chairs were set up at the far end of the room, facing a screen and a Magic Lantern.  Clara gripped Wesley's arm excitedly.  "We shall see pictures of their dig!" she whispered, pointing at the projector and its stack of glass slides.

The musicians stopped and a short man with slicked blonde hair strode over to the podium.  He was built like a bulldog.  There was a pompous air to him, as if it was he, and not necessarily his finds, that brought the crowd.  "Ladies and gentlemen, if you will find your place, this evening's Cabinet of Curiosities shall commence," he barked.

Hushed excitement spread across the crowd as everyone found their seat.  The man stood up on his tiptoes to introduce himself.  "I am George Mallfeld, lead archeologist on this exhibition!"

The crowd broke out into applause.

Clara and Wesley exchanged glances.  So, this was the mysterious Dr. Mallfeld that the lawyer spoke of.

"My first slide shall be of the tomb we originally found over fifteen years ago.  It took well over a decade to find the entrance to the true treasures of this site.  If I could have the lights dimmed, please," he commanded.  Several men raced around the room, lowering the gas lamps so that their flames would not interfere with the Magic Lantern's slides.  Dr. Mallfeld dropped in the first picture.

Clara felt herself almost unable to breathe.  A great, crushing weight of fear pressed itself against her bosom.  It was a square shaped room with four doors, just like the one they found in Horace Oroberg's basement. 

"You may ask yourself why it was so difficult to find the entrance to this tomb?" said Dr. Mallfeld.  "Time had filled the hallways completely with dirt.  Hidden in these hallways were several rooms with treasures unlike any we, meaning myself and my faithful crew, had ever seen.  Most archeologists would have stopped, thinking they had found the central cache.  In fact, many of my partners tried to dissuade me from continuing the dig.  But I would not be dissuaded, my friends!  Instead, I discovered this strange maze which led to this tomb."

He dropped in the next slide.  Clara heard Wesley involuntarily gasp as Dr. Mallfeld switched out one slide after another.  It was just like the one carved into the bedrock beneath the manor.  Why had such a maze existed in ancient Egypt, only to crop up again, almost like a mirror image, in the middle of the countryside?  Clara wondered.  What force was at work here?

"Inside of this tomb," Dr. Mallfeld continued, "was the most remarkable specimen.  We found the mummy of a woman.  Her sarcophagus was covered entirely in gold.  Signs pointed to the fact that her tomb had been opened before, but for some reason, her burial objects all remained inside.  In fact, it appeared that grave robbers may have even taken items away only to return them later.  Perhaps grave robbers with a conscience?"

The entire room broke out into polite titters.

"Or grave robbers struck with some terrible curse," Clara muttered to Wesley.

"These earlier visitors left messages warning us to stay away, but men of science do not let superstition to keep us from the truth!  And what truth we found!  Even more remarkable than these ancient objects was the mummy herself.  She was quite an anomaly.  Usually, internal organs are removed and placed into canopic jars."  He dropped another glass slide into the Magic Lantern and the crowd murmured at the beauty of the ancient urns.  "But this woman's brain was left inside of her body and her heart removed.  A discovery like no one else has seen!"

At that moment, the lights were restored as if Dr. Mallfeld had control over the elements and the room was filled with applause.  Clara politely turned to the stranger sitting beside her and commented, "Quite a remarkable discovery."

He was a poorly dressed man with patches upon his elbows.  His face was pointed and rather rat like.  He harrumphed.  "He's nothing but a humbug."

"I beg your pardon?" she replied.

"An absolute flim-flam man, willing to destroy an archeological find for his own glorification and interest."

Clara and Wesley looked at one another, surprised by this man's vehemence.  "Truly?" Clara asked, hoping that he would expound.

"Indeed!  I was on that very expedition and you should have seen the damage that man wrecked upon such an important site.  Why, he stole the objects that were rightfully mine!  Objects that should have been placed in a museum such as this, all for his own private interest and abuse.  And here!  Even this very night!  Taking all the glory and credit for himself with no mention of his partners, including me or our investors!  And then to take these objects and sell them to line his coffers, no matter what the cost to science and investigation..."

Wesley leaned forward.  "Do you have such objects from this exhibition?

Clara added enthusiastically, “We would be very interested in learning more and would love to hear your side of this tale."

The man gave them his calling card proudly, "My name is Dr. Van Flemming."  He cast his eyes up and down Dr. Mallfeld with loathing.  "Please, come anytime and I will show you what a REAL Egyptologist looks like.”

"How is your schedule tomorrow?" asked Wesley.

T
he post-lecture socializing showed no signs of waning.  The crowd was enthusiastic, exclaiming as they looked at the objects Dr. Mallfeld had on display.  Dr. Mallfeld himself was entertaining a circle of people with his stories of valor in the desert.  The crowd laughed politely at his jests, hanging on every word.  He cut quite the dashing figure.  Clara and Wesley briskly strolled over to eavesdrop.

When a lull in the conversation came, Wesley piped up, trying to keep the tenor of his questioning light. "You said that you found inscriptions from past grave robbers that there was rotten luck to any who took the tomb's objects.  In fact, I hear that oftentimes these tombs carry terrible curses.  Have you experienced the curse of this tomb since your return?"

Dr. George Mallfeld looked squarely at Clara and Wesley.  Clara wondered if perhaps she detected a glimmer of fear in his eye.  His confident façade was replaced as soon as the crack seemed to appear and he dismissed the question with an air of authority.  "My good sir, I'm afraid those are nothing more than old wives tales, something told around the kitchen hearth to frighten young children on All Hallows Eve."

The crowd tittered again.

Clara stuck her courage and spoke, "Oh do entertain us with such a story!"

Dr. Mallfeld shifted uncomfortably, and then breezily excused himself.  "I would love nothing more, but I am afraid the evening grows short.  I must excuse myself, for I am neglecting my other guests.  Please, enjoy the champagne!"

The crowd gave a disappointed, but understanding murmur as he turned and walked away.  Clara whispered into Wesley's ear, "We should follow him!"

Wesley nodded and moved her swiftly through the crowd until they arrived once more at Dr. Mallfeld's side.  He was standing awkwardly by himself, downing a glass of wine without pausing to catch his breath.

Clara cleared her throat.  "Dr. Mallfeld, I hope that I did not give you any offense by my request.  I assure you it was for amusement and not to make light of the important work that you do."

He turned back and seemed to fade a bit to see Clara and Wesley there once more.  He none too subtly began looking for an escape as he replied, "Good madam, I assure you no offense was taken."

"I was wondering, sir," Clara continued before he could make another excuse to leave their company, "about a certain object we learned you have possession of."

His face because strangely thoughtful as this woman suddenly took his attention.  "Truly?  Pray, tell me, what object might that be?"

"We were friends of Lord Horace Oroberg.  He had an object of Egyptian origin, we seem to remember it once belonged to Peter Nero," Clara continued, hoping that the deceit she was spinning from all the half-stories they gathered was somewhat close to the truth. "We grew quite attached to it.  We inquired with his lawyer today and were informed that you are now the guardian."

Dr. Mallfeld nodded gravely.  "Indeed, Lord Oroberg financed half of our expedition to Egypt, and in return, asked for a memento from the gravesite before the rest was disposed of... to the scientific community and such."

Clara wondered if Dr. Van Flemming had been truthful in hinting that the objects were more likely to be distributed to the "and such" than the scientific community, but she had not chance to enquire more, for Dr. Mallfeld continued, "The other half of the expedition was financed by a Mr. Phineas Stokeman.  Upon Lord Oroberg's death, I gathered up the item you referred to and passed it along to Mr. Stokeman before... well... before another party could lay false claim to it."

"Dr. Van Flemming?" Clara offered innocently. 

Dr. Mallfeld looked like she had struck him across the face with that name, so she quickly calmed him down.  "The lawyer mentioned several interested parties and if it was not in your possession, we were going to speak next with Dr. Van Flemming."

"Ah!  So Dr. Van Flemming was after the heart after all!"

"The heart, sir?" asked Clara.

"Oh!  Did you not know what was in that urn?" he inquired.

"No, I had just rather admired it from afar," she replied.

Dr. Mallfeld took on the same air of his lecture.  "Indeed, as you may have heard earlier, for most mummies, their internal organs are all removed, except for the heart.  But this particular mummy's brain remained while the heart was removed and placed into one of the tomb jars.  It really was quite a remarkable find."

"I see," said Clara. "And why would they have done such a thing?"

"The world may never know.  But if the answer can be found, you may rest assured I will not stop until I find it!"  Dr. Mallfeld suddenly gave a wave over their shoulder and bowed to Clara and Wesley.  "I apologize that I must be rude.  I'm afraid that my attention is required elsewhere.  But please, do call on me if you wish to discuss Egyptology in the future.  I would be happy to oblige such friends of Lord Oroberg."

As Dr. Mallfeld walked away, Clara sighed, "Well, Wesley, I am afraid we find ourselves with more questions than answers."

He gave her a reassuring squeeze of the hand.  "Never fear, my darling.  The wonderful thing about questions is the discovery of the answers.  And we shall not rest until
we
have them."

T
he hallway Clara and Wesley walked down was filled with books.  Row after row, the shelves groaned, double-stacked with hardbound volumes, seemingly organized by which shapes could be jammed best into the nooks and crannies.  A single spark and Dr. Van Flemming's entire home would be a raging inferno, Clara thought morbidly.  They were led by a wheezing maid into his study, which continued the house's disorganized décor of loose papers and maps. 

Clara and Wesley picked their way to two chairs before Dr. Van Flemming's heaped desk and sat.  Clara began sneezing from all the dust and Wesley gallantly handed her his handkerchief, but quickly needed it himself.  Watery-eyed, it was a relief when Dr. Van Flemming burst through the door.

"My apologies," he said, though his voice did not seem to indicate there was anything he felt he really needed to apologize for.  "I am afraid that I was caught up in research for an upcoming pamphlet and I quite forgot you were coming to see me today."

"We can come back—" Clara began, but Wesley gripped her arm warningly.

"We apologize for interrupting you," Wesley said.  "I assure you that we won't take much of your time."

"Yes," said Dr. Van Flemming, "so many think that, but once they have observed the depth and breadth of my findings, oh, an entire day can quickly slip away without even noticing it is gone."

"I am sure," Clara demurred.

"So, how might I be of assistance?" Dr. Van Flemming asked, sitting down at his desk and adding another handful of papers to a teetering stack.

"Well, my good man," said Wesley, "Dr. Mallfeld's lecture yesterday on Egyptology was fascinating—"

"It was terrible!" he replied.  "How can you possibly say with a straight face that you sat there listening to that drivel and found it intellectually stimulating, much less fascinating?  If you want to see fascinating—" Dr. Van Flemming interrupted himself.  He got up from his chair and indicated that Wesley and Clara should do so, too.  "Please, please, follow me.  If you want to see what REAL artifacts look like, I would ask you to follow me into the basement."

Dr. Van Flemming took a candle from the kitchen.  The maid seemed to have retreated out of earshot, and no other servants were within shouting distance to light the way, although from the state of Dr. Van Flemming's house, Clara wondered if he had anyone else tending to things. 

He led Clara and Wesley down the stairs into the basement.  The hallways wound about, much like they were a part of some maze.  Clara felt a creeping foreboding.  This was entirely too similar to another basement maze she found herself trapped in.  She pulled Wesley back slightly and whispered, "We should leave!"

He shook his head, his eyes never leaving Dr. Van Flemming's figure.  "Lives depend upon us learning the truth, Clara.  We are the only ones who saw the wickedness which seized Violet.  If this curse lives, we are the only ones with the power to stop it.  We must be brave."

"But not foolish," Clara stated.

Wesley acquiesced to her logic.  He called to Dr. Van Flemming. "Pray, tell me where you are taking us?"

"Ah!  To my gallery!  To my store room!" he replied with glee.

And it was at that moment he opened the door to the room.

Inside was a square room with four doors.  It was decorated with hieroglyphs and golden torch holders on the walls.  The room was filled with artifacts: jars, statues, and ancient crockery.  In the center of the room was a golden sarcophagus.  It was a lovely creation, covered in inlaid gold and onyx.  Clara had never seen anything so beautiful in her entire life.

"There is my girl!" said Dr. Van Flemming proudly.

Clara looked around, seeing no one.  "I pray, sir, who you mean?"