The Atlantis Keystone (38 page)

“Emma. We’re safe in here. All doors are locked and I’ve locked the bedroom door as well. You can relax now.”

“Thank you Erik,” she said still shaking but trying her best to relax and sound at ease. “I hope you’re not sleeping on the floor again tonight?”

“Of course not.”

“Just hold me.” She didn’t have the strength to say anything further. Tiredness had exchanged fear. Erik joined her in bed. It felt strange but nice to lie next to him, wearing only a nightgown. She could feel his skin and warm muscular body against hers. All she wanted at that moment was his comforting arms around her.

E
rik was woken early the next morning by a ray of sunshine peeking through the blinds. It was half past seven. He still embraced Emma. She didn’t say anything but then turned around to face him. She looked sleepy. After a moment’s hesitation she leaned towards him and they kissed. To his disappointment something made her stop. He had heard it too. It was a familiar noise, a loud metallic bang which could only have come from the other side of the smaller of the two lakes in front of the old house; the sound of what must have been someone closing the opening to the Torpa escape route.

In a swift movement she dragged herself away from him and got out of bed. She walked over to the window and opened the blind fully. Momentarily he had managed to forget about the intruder but as it all came back to him he was concerned. He joined her by the window, looking outside to see if they could see anything out of the ordinary. There was nothing obvious.

“Erik, we need to call the police or do something. I think we can safely say that you were right and that the intruder has left the house. We need to find out who it is.”

“Do we have to? He or she will probably disappear now and we will be too late anyway.”

“It’s not like you to be so blasé about things.” She dragged him to his wardrobe. “Come on now. Get dressed! We need to hurry. This person has spent the whole night in the old house. We should at least find out why.” Erik reluctantly agreed. They quickly got dressed and went outside, Erik with his rifle in a tight grip. Despite the rather worrying circumstances, weather-wise it was one of those days you would just want to wrap up and keep as a memory for the dark winter months. The rain the day before had made the air remarkably fresh, although most traces of damp were gone, evaporated by the warmth of the early morning sun. It was as if spring had come back over night, bringing with it warmer temperatures, bright blue skies and a variety of budding flowers. The house looked much less frightening in daylight but the thought of a person lurking around in the woods uninvited filled him with trepidation.

They walked past the house and over to the lake, starting to walk around it by the water’s edge. The sky reflected on the surface, giving the illusion that the murky dark water was light blue. They both stopped abruptly as a figure suddenly became visible further down. Given the distance they could not see who it was but they decided to dive into the woods. Erik was sure the person had seen them but they continued to hide behind a tree. He held his rifle tightly ready for attack.

“Hello!” the person shouted. “Wait!” It was a man, shouting in English. They could hear him running towards them. They exchanged looks. Emma’s face lit up and she didn’t hesitate. She started to run to meet him. Erik followed a couple of meters behind. It was Paul! He had come back! Following the events of the day before the charges against him had finally been completely dropped, although Paul was unlikely to know that. Erik had mixed feelings. He was relieved that Paul was alive and well. At the same time he was feeling hostile towards him, that he had wasted their time over several months and afraid that Emma still had feelings for him. He wasn’t sure. But what on earth had he been doing in the old house? It wasn’t difficult to guess; he had been looking for the tablet and had planned to take it without telling anyone.

Emma reached him first. Much to Erik’s distain, Paul took her in his arms and hugged her briefly. Paul even lifted her up, squeezing her tightly as if he had never abandoned them all. Erik found this inappropriate.

“Oh my god, I’ve missed you so much.” Paul said before giving her a peck on the cheek. He noted that Emma didn’t look entirely pleased. She nevertheless managed a smile.

“Hello Paul. Good to see you’re alive and well,” Erik said without excitement. Paul wasn’t wearing his glasses and he looked skinnier than last time Erik had seen him. His hair was messy. He was wearing jeans and a black leather jacket, open to reveal a plain white T-shirt. Paul didn’t say anything but instead he patted Erik’s shoulder as if they were good friends. “I see you have found what you were looking for,” Erik said sarcastically. Paul didn’t seem to notice the cynicism, or else he pretended not to.

“Yes, hm,” Paul muttered and cleared his throat. They started to walk back towards the house. “I have to apologise for being here. I’m still on the run, as you know. I’m so sorry for everything. I’ve been a complete fool.”

“Yes, you can say that again!” Erik said with a sniff. “But you don’t have to worry about your crime anymore. It’s all over and you are cleared as of yesterday.”

“Are you serious? Are you saying that my name has been cleared?” he said in disbelief with a cautious grin.

“Yes,” Emma added.

He stopped and hugged her again and then shook Erik’s reluctant hand. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’m eternally grateful.” He then said to Erik: “I can see why you’re angry and I don’t blame you at all.” Erik mumbled something intelligible in response. Paul continued, this time turning towards Emma: “I have some good news as well! I’ve been rather productive since Beirut and have made some interesting discoveries.”

She was immediately excited but at the same time hesitant and Erik imagined an undertone of suppressed anger. “No, you haven’t! You haven’t done it have you? Have you?”

“Er… well, partly. I had some help as you know. And it has confirmed some rather interesting facts as well!”

“You have used the tablet to decipher Linear A?”

“Sort of… I’ve cracked most of the code. There’s still some way to go but I’ve made some progress.”

“Oh my god…! I just can’t believe it…” Her excitement was mixed with reluctance. Paul picked this up.

“Don’t worry. We will share the recognition. It’s thanks to you that this was possible. You’ve been absolutely instrumental. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.” Emma was unsure how to react. She was speechless. He could see that she was angry but tried hard to conceal it. He guessed she would have preferred to have been part of his deciphering work.

Erik decided to interrupt: “You must be exhausted. Shall we have some breakfast? I would be interested to know what on earth you’ve been doing these last couple of months and what you were doing in my house all night.” He looked away, torn between the natural instinct to be a good host and the urge to hit Paul hard in the face.

“I’m sorry Erik, of course. It was very late when I arrived and it seemed like the only option. I didn’t want to stumble in unannounced at midnight. And I thought I was still wanted by the police. I’ll explain everything…”

They decided to walk up to the patio by the house. Erik fetched some cups, bread and home-made buns which Britt- Marie had left behind. It was lovely to have breakfast outside, soaking up the glorious sunshine but Erik was frustrated with Paul and his smugness. He was astonished that Emma had not been openly angry with Paul after all that had happened and after what he had done. She had not confronted him about getting hold of the tablet without telling her; working on the decipherment behind her back and going into hiding without explaining what was going on. Paul had been very selfish to say the least.

“I don’t know where to start.” He paused and looked at them with almost sheepish eyes, as if he was ashamed of what he was about to say. “I suppose I should begin my story here at Torpa last August. It was in the morning on the day after we’d seen the chest via the small camera inside the space in the wall. I was rather disappointed that we still didn’t know what was hidden inside the chest but yet excited about the prospect that there was still a chance that the tablet was there. The slow progress of it all had really started to get to me. I was just about to go downstairs to have breakfast when I saw a letter by the door, probably tucked in when I was sleeping. It wasn’t addressed to anyone but I opened it and it was for me. It was very brief, typed on simple white paper and the English was very poor. All it said was that the person knew where the half tablet was and that I could have it if I didn’t tell anyone about it. If I did, there would be consequences. It didn’t say what sort of consequences though. If I agreed to this I would find evidence that the person really knew where the tablet was. The letter told me to go to the room in the east wing of the old house via the secret passage-way under the lake. I went there without telling anyone and a photo of one side of the tablet had been left inside the sofa. It was such an exhilarating experience to see it there. The realisation was elating; the tablet was actually there on the estate and we, or you rather Emma, had been right all along. The arrangement was that the person, whoever it was, would send a photo of the other side of the half tablet to me in the post and then hide the real thing inside the house in the same sofa for my next time in Sweden. The plan was for me to happen to come across it by chance at that time and then make the find public, leaving me with time to work on the decipherment in the meantime. I was very excited but things didn’t go as planned. I didn’t know who had given me the tablet. The letter had been anonymous. I had suspected that it was your grandmother because she gave me an odd look at breakfast just after I’d got the letter. But then she died in the break-in and I understood that it wasn’t her. The second photo arrived in the post a couple of weeks later. There was no letter or anything, just the photo.

“It
was
my grandmother who arranged the break-in… Britt-Marie sent the photo of the tablet to you,” Erik said calmly.

“Really? I’m surprised that Britt-Marie was involved to such an extent. She doesn’t strike me as someone who could have any involvement in anything dreadful. Anyway, at the time I didn’t care who had sent it to me. I had what I wanted, although there was a part missing. She’s not a very good photographer.” He laughed. “The photo of the Egyptian side missed a major part on the left hand side. It meant that many words were cut off. Very annoying. I’ve made some assumptions about the words there but it would be nice to get them confirmed.”

“Hence your excursion to Sweden now…” Emma added with a hint of a sarcastic tone.

“Yes, I needed to take a better photo. I had not intended to be seen by anyone, to tell you the truth, although with the disappointing discovery last night when the tablet was gone I decided to come and see you. And as it turned out, my timing couldn’t have been better. I’m in debt to the two of you.”

“So why did you go into hiding after Beirut?” Emma asked.

“Well, things turned ugly when we were in Lebanon and they caught the contract burglar. As you know I was set up. The contract burglar named me as his employer. I found this out on the bus between Byblos and Beirut. A Swedish police officer called me on my mobile to inform me of this. He asked me to go to the nearest police station to give myself up. It was a complete shock to me. I had nothing to do with the break-in. I had obviously been chosen as a scape goat because I had a real motive to steal the chest; to try to get hold of the tablet. At that moment I guessed that the anonymous perpetrator had given me the tablet to further emphasise that I had really conducted the break-in. To leave me with the stolen goods so to say. With your grandmother’s death the crime was even worse. There I was, in possession of the tablet, having made progress with the deciphering of Linear A using the tablet. I hadn’t been very cautious. I had failed to take enough care. I had told a couple of colleagues about my progress and I would say it was probably obvious to them that I had had some help. I was afraid that they had guessed that I had the tablet. So when I found out that I was wanted for the break-in, I panicked. I even threw my mobile phone out of the bus window,” he laughed. “The evidence was stacked up against me.” Suddenly he looked sad but when he didn’t get any sympathy from Emma or Erik he continued. “I was wanted by the police. I couldn’t think straight. I knew I had been stupid and careless. I suppose I was angry with myself – and scared. Getting caught for arranging a burglary that resulted in the death of an innocent bystander would not only ruin my career but most certainly land me in jail, if I didn’t manage to prove that I had been set up and that I was innocent. I expected the University would expel me for even being implicated. Everything I had worked for over the years was hanging by a thread. When Erik’s mum called at the bus station in Beirut and said the burglar had been caught I was already in panic. I’m sorry. I knew I abandoned you all at a very difficult time.”

Emma looked down at the breadbasket, avoiding looking at him. “But where on earth did you go?”

“I left Beirut immediately by ferry and went to get the yacht in Rhodes. From there I travelled to Cadiz. I abandoned the yacht to create a diversion, having made the decision not to go to the police. I was still carrying the second photo of the tablet and desperately wanted to get rid of it safely, and make sure that you would get it somehow. I could have posted it to you but I was sure they would monitor your mail. I was considering my next step when I walked past the
Hotel Las Cortes de Cadiz.
I had stayed there once before when I visited some colleagues in Cadiz. I suddenly remembered a book that a friend of mine, a professor at the University of Cadiz, had written a while ago about the Cortez de Cadiz. It was probably one of the least popular books in the country, poor guy.” He once again laughed. Emma smirked a little as well but Erik stayed quiet, wishing Paul would stick to what was relevant. Paul continued: “Anyway, an idea started to form in my head. If I could set up a trail that only you would understand,” he nodded in Emma’s direction, “to lead you to the photo, you would secretly get the tablet whatever happened to me. I left the photo in an envelope in the reception of
Hotel Las Cortes de Cadiz
and addressed it to you. I asked the man in the reception to keep it safe and give it only to you, if and when you came to pick it up. I reckoned it was safe enough. He didn’t know my name. I started to plan a trail for you so that you could get the tablet. I dreaded to think that the police would find out about my bank safe in London where I had left the other photo of the tablet as well as some of my notes. I needed to get to London quickly to destroy the photo, or otherwise hide it. I took a fast ferry over to London. It was quicker than expected but it took the best part of a day. It was worth it to avoid flying, although at that stage I appeared to be able to travel relatively freely. I even showed my passport once when I arrived in the UK. The ferry-ride gave me time to plan the trail I was going to set up for you in London. Upon arrival in London I took the tube to the bank first. I then walked to the British Library. On route over there I made two phone calls. I gave you a call, as you know.”