Misplaced (33 page)

“There is something to that,” Max ans
w
ered sarcastically.

Arlan grabbed the collar of the old man’s shirt, lifting him from the chair with a strength he did not know he possessed. “How much information did you gi
v
e them? I hope you didn’t say you
’
d seen them. Did you mention me? Did you?” He let
g
o
,
an
d
Ma
x
reele
d
b
ac
k
w
ar
d
an
d
sli
d
t
o
t
h
e
floor
,
k
nocking
o
v
er the delicate
V
ictorian teapot perched on a card table next to the desk. Pieces of bone china sailed across the grimy floor.

“No!” Max exclaimed, fear clouding his e
y
es.
Th
e
nois
e
i
n
hi
s
hea
d
w
a
s
deafenin
g
now
,
an
d
Arlan
struggle
d
t
o
contro
l
himself
.
“Sorry,
”
h
e
mumbled
,
pickin
g
Max
u
p
an
d
smoothin
g
hi
s
shirt
.
“It’
s
jus
t
tha
t
there’
s
s
o
muc
h
at
stake.” Embarrassed, Mieley smiled and reached for the bottle to fill
the flutes.

Max’
s
voic
e
w
a
v
ere
d
a
s
h
e
pointe
d
t
o
th
e
bracelets
.
“They
’
re
proof
of
a
ne
w
ly
disco
v
ered
tomb,
or
it
could
be
that
a
cache
of artifacts has just surfaced. Either
w
ay, it’s
v
ery good for your business. Of course I didn’t mention your name. I’
v
e done this for more
y
ears than you’
v
e been ali
v
e.”

“Th
e
Egyptian
s
reall
y
don’
t
kno
w
fo
r
who
m
th
e
bracelets
w
ere made?”

Max turned around a legal pad on his desk. The page
w
as
empt
y
excep
t
fo
r a
singl
e
entr
y
scribble
d
i
n
Max’
s
unstead
y hand: “2181 BC.”

“If
my
estimate
of
the
y
ear
this
failed
coronation
occurred is
correct,
there
would
be
good
reason;
it
w
as
a
time
of
political
turmoil
.
Tradition
s
w
er
e
unde
r
fire
,
an
d
ther
e
w
er
e
surely
man
y
contender
s
fo
r
Egypt’
s
throne
.
Ou
r
mysteriou
s
quee
n
w
as
probabl
y
to
o
youn
g
fo
r
marriage
,
go
t
i
n
th
e
w
a
y
an
d
w
a
s
killed,
or just as likely relinquished her right to po
w
er.”

Ma
x
use
d
th
e
en
d
o
f
a
pape
r
cli
p
t
o
poin
t
t
o
tin
y
bumps
in three places on one of the bracelets. “What do you make of these?”

“There’
s
a
missin
g
bracelet
.
I
’
l
l
be
t
it’
s
th
e
on
e
wit
h
he
r
name
on it.”
The
humming
noise
seared
his
brain.
“Did
you
specifically
mention the bracelets?”

“Look,
I
did
my
best
to
get
information
without
raising
too
man
y
questions
.
Isn’
t
tha
t
wha
t
yo
u
pa
y
m
e
for
?
A
t
best
,
the
bracelets
w
ere
part
of
a
fa
m
ily
colle
c
tion
or
ha
v
e
been
in
hiding
since
before
the
antiquities
legislation
w
as
first
put
into
place.
A
t
worst,
you
’
ll
ha
v
e
to
produce
documentation
to
show
they
w
ere
legally
imported.
Either
w
ay,
it’s
an
amazing
find.
If
you
w
eren’t such a bastard, you would return them to Egypt.”

Arla
n
hande
d
Ma
x
a
glass
.
“Here’
s
t
o
keepin
g
Egyptian
treasures
where
they
belong,”
he
declared
before
emptying
his
flute.
“In the hands of the highest bidder.”

Max
took
a
sip
and
looked
a
w
ay.
When
Arlan
reached
for
more
champagne,
the
noise
in
his
head
took
o
v
er.
He
slammed
the
bottle
into
the
side of
Max’s head
and
w
atched
the
surprise
i
n
th
e
o
l
d
m
an
’
s
e
y
e
s
bef
o
r
e
h
e
s
lu
m
pe
d
t
o
th
e
f
l
o
o
r
.
He
continue
d
t
o
swing
,
feelin
g
th
e
skull bon
es
gi
v
e
w
ay
,
unti
l
a
w
ar
m
mis
t
moistene
d
hi
s
face
.
Whe
n
h
e
coul
d
se
e
littl
e
that
resembled
a
human
head,
he
quit
and
stared
at
the
bludgeoned
corpse
for
a
long
time.
“
Y
ou
shouldn’t
ha
v
e
called
them,
Max.
Y
ou said it yourself—it’s the find
of a lifetime.”

A
sid
e
o
f
hi
m
h
e
coul
d
no
t
ha
v
e
imagine
d
existe
d
calmly
put
the
bracelets
back
into
the
en
v
elope,
which
he
stuffed
into
th
e
pocke
t
o
f
hi
s
mohai
r
spor
t
coat
.
Th
e
onl
y
thin
g
wors
e
tha
n
a
crime
is
a
blunder
,
he
reminded
himself.
Calm
down;
take
your
time.