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Treasure of Egypt Page 2
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“Not without a bloody fight, you don’t,” Alec gritted out, surprising the thug with his strength and speed. He raised his arms out despite the man’s efforts to restrain him and quickly jabbed with his right. The blow connected with the man’s throat.
As the ruffian went down, the man behind Alec seized his arms again. He struggled against him as another looming figure succeeded in connecting a punch to his ribs. Alec felt the air leave his lungs as he doubled over. The bastard must be wearing brass knuckles, he’d hit him so hard.
Alec sucked in air, reared back and kicked out at the man in front of him. The impact sent both him and the man holding him back into his desk. The contents on top scattered to the floor. Alec rolled free of the man’s hold just as a candelabra forcefully came down next to him.
Alec blocked another blow from the heavy base. Reaching out, he grabbed and twisted the candelabra free of the assailants grasp. Swinging it hard, he felt it connect as the man grunted. He was about to use it again when a vase ricocheted off his back and hit the floor shattering into a million pieces.
“That was my Grandmother’s vase,” Alec ground out as he turned and hit the man square in the face. “An antique,” he kicked out, sweeping the fool off his feet. “From the Ming dynasty!” he finished as the man fell into the bookcase, sending several volumes to the floor.
Alec could see the outline of a chair coming towards him from the other direction. He grabbed the front legs and spun around tossing it in an arc. With satisfaction, he heard the chair crash against the wall. Unfortunately, he barely had time to cover his head with his hands as a small table broke over his back.
The impact sent him staggering to his knees. With cat-like stealth, Alec shifted to his feet, reaching inside his boot for the knife he kept there.
BOOM! A shot rang out in the dark. Plaster rained down upon him from the ceiling above. His ears were still ringing as he watched the scoundrels throw open the window and flee out into the night.
“Are you all right M’lord?” Sims asked, standing in his nightshirt before the open door way.
Alec shook the debris from his hair as a candle was lit. “So it seems,” he replaced the knife before standing. “What the hell took you so long?” He asked looking around at the devastation.
Sims cleared his throat. “Sorry M’lord, I thought at first you’d brought home an especially spirited female.”
“Bloody hell,” Alec pulled a hand through his hair.
“Should I call the Constable, Sir?” Sims asked.
“No,” Alec replied, looking over at his butler who was normally the picture of decorum. He had to hide a smile. With his hair standing on end, Sims looked like he was the one who’d just come from a fight. “I don’t think they’ll be returning any time soon.”
Alec spied his coat where it had fallen on the floor. He picked it up and shook it out. The bills, which it had once held, lay strewn across the debris. With a slight groan, he tossed the jacket to the side as Sims dutifully started picking up the mess.
“Leave it until morning,” Alec said tiredly as he sat down in his large leather chair. “You can pour me a brandy before you go back to bed, however.”
“Very good Sir,” Sims replied handing him the drink along with the decanter.
~*~
“Bloody hell!” Samuel looked around the study in surprise. “What happened in here?”
The expletive woke Alec from where he’d fallen asleep with a start. He groaned in response, leaning forward. Damn, he hadn’t meant to spend the whole night in the chair. He winced as Samuel threw open the shades, flooding the room with bright sunshine.
“I thought I’d find you surrounded by your booty, but not quite like this.” He laughed as he surveyed the mess on the floor.
“Booty?” Alec blinked up at him, shading his eyes.
“It’s all the talk this morning,” Samuel grinned from ear to ear. “You raked in quite a sum I understand, along with a treasure map.”
“Too bad you missed it,” Alec grimaced as he rolled his shoulder. “Where did you disappear after the Chesterfield’s ball, anyway? I thought we’d agreed to meet at the Boar’s Head.”
“Sorry about that, I was tied up.” Samuel raised his brows suggestively.
“Figuratively or in actuality?”
“That woman is relentless, I tell you.” Samuel grinned mischievously.
He’d known better than to ask. Alec brought up his hand and rubbed his neck while Samuel rambled on. Damn, but he was sore. It must have been the chair they broke over his back, or the cracked rib, or the sucker punch to the face, he thought, feeling the tender area around his eye.
Samuel glanced over, noticing the slight shadow Alec now sported. “I’m surprised that anyone could get the best of you.”
“Who said there was only one?” Alec looked up at him with his good eye.
“Hmm,” Samuel responded as he started picking up fistfuls of money and arranging them into piles while Alec poured himself another drink.
“How much should you have here?” Samuel asked with interest. “The rumor mills said you raked in at least three fifty.”
“Really?” It was Alec’s turn to be surprised.
“You mean you don’t know?” Both his brows shot up. The game of the season it’s being said, possibly decade… and you didn’t even count it?”
“I was busy,” Alec gestured to the utter chaos.
“Two hundred, thirty-four thousand,” Samuel whistled when he finished the tally. “Not including, of course, the infamous note and treasure map for another one hundred. How much do you think they got away with?”
“I doubt they got anything,” Alec watched the liquor in his glass move as he rolled it. “I gave several bills to one of the tavern wenches and tipped my driver.”
“You gave a strumpet sixteen thousand pounds?” Samuel snorted in surprise. “Holy hell… You were busy.”
It was no use explaining, Alec shook his head slightly. Samuel always came to his own conclusions anyway.
“What will your fiancé say when she finds out?” Samuel feigned shock.
“What fiancé?” Alec narrowed his eyes on him.
“The one your mother all but proposed to in your stead.”
“Hell,” Alec groaned, “What else is the rumor mill saying?”
“Oh that one isn’t just a rumor. It’s one of the bets that have been placed in the ledger at White’s.” Samuel said speaking of the book where the patrons of the gentleman’s club recorded their wagers.
“I don’t suppose you’ve added one of your own?”
“Of course,” Samuel supplied with a grin. “I bet that you leave the country within a fortnight in order to avoid the whole affair.” He chuckled, enjoying Alec’s awkward set of circumstance.
“That sounds a bit extreme,” Alec irritably fluffed the pillow at his back, stabbing at it with his fist. “You seem to be enjoying this a little over much.”
“I am,” Samuel said frankly. “You, my friend, have only just discovered the joys of a meddling mother, whereas I have had one for years.”
Alec could not argue with that. Ever since Samuel had lost his father to an early death, his mother had practically smothered him. He’d no idea how frustrating it was before now. Alec downed the brandy he’d just poured with a swallow.
“Is this it?” Samuel’s voice was one of awe as he bent to pick up the scroll sticking out of Alec’s discarded jacket.
Alec looked up with one eye slightly scrunched, “Indeed.”
“What is it to?” Fascinated, Samuel pulled it out. Alec shrugged his shoulders in response. “You mean you didn’t even look? The greatest treasure of mankind, and you didn’t even look?” Samuel shook his head in disbelief as he unrolled the scroll.
“Well?” Alec asked from his chair as Samuel studied it. “What does it say?”
Samuel looked up with a blank stare then turned it around for him to see. It looked like a sundial with chicken scratch all
over it. “I believe you’ve been taken.”
“Let me see that,” Alec stood, snatching the document from him as Samuel started to laugh. “Hell,” Alec swore as he looked at it, not in the least bit amused. It was bloody unlikely he was going to get one hundred thousand pounds for the damn thing.
“Well, I certainly don’t envy you on this one either,” Samuel held up the largest piece of the ceramic vase.
“It wasn’t too bad.” Alec remembered the hit he took as one of the thugs broke it over his back.
“It will be when your mother finds out about it.”
“Hhmm,” Alec reflected.
“Maybe you can glue it… or leave town,” Samuel hedged.
“Although I’d love to help you win your bet, I think I’ll be staying.” Alec sat on the corner of the desk, looking at the drawing on the map.
“What’s that there?” Samuel pointed to the back of it.
Alec flipped the parchment over in his hand. On the other side was another set of drawings, this time they looked Egyptian.
“Ah-hah!” Samuel stooped over, picking up two papers from off the floor. One was the voucher from the Frenchman and the other had more strange writing with a line of fine penmanship scrawled beneath it. “This looks like ancient Greek.” Samuel looked up. “Wait I recognize this, it’s been taken off the other side of the map.”
Alec turned the map over. Across the bottom was a line of the same ancient script. “My ancient Greek is a tad rusty,” he looked over at the note Samuel held. Beneath the Greek letters was another language. “How’s your French?”
“Better than yours,” Samuel said before reading it aloud. “What has four legs when it is born, two as an adult, and three when it dies?”
Alec rolled his eyes. “What does it really say?”
“That is what it says,” Samuel looked suitably annoyed.
“Are you serious?”
“Quite.”
Alec groaned.
“It must be a riddle,” Samuel looked up with excitement.
“More like a joke if you ask me,” Alec replied irritably, “One that I am to bear the brunt of.”
“Not necessarily,” Samuel replied thoughtfully as he turned the note over. “And look, there is more.”
“I don’t think I can take any more.”
“It appears to be a poem,” Samuel cleared his throat.
O Golden One, the lady of Heaven.
I worship her majesty, I give adoration to Hathor
I called to her, she heard my plea. She sent my Mistress to me.
“Do you think it’s another clue?” Samuel looked up excitedly.
“A clue that someone is greatly disturbed perhaps,” Alec glanced at him with a brow raised.
“Ah yes,” Samuel nodded, “Seems your Frenchman was quite desperate for companionship, either that, or he took his love of money quite seriously.”
Chapter 2
It didn’t take Alec a great deal of effort to locate the townhouse that Monsieur Blanoiś had let out for the season. As the carriage drew up in front, he couldn’t help but wonder if the old man’s prediction would prove to be right and the Frenchman wouldn’t be there.
“It’s not dilapidated, that at least is a good sign.” Samuel noted as he surveyed the building.
Alec gave him a quick glance before alighting from the carriage. Samuel had insisted that he accompany him on this errand. Quite frankly, he doubted that he could have stopped him. Samuel seemed more interested in the outcome than he himself was.
“I can’t believe the ol' codger said he’d buy it from you and you didn’t take him up on it.” Samuel shook his head in disbelief as they walked up to the doorway and rang the bell. “What were you thinking?”
Alec almost wished he hadn’t told him of the old man’s offer. “There wasn’t a great deal of time in which to make—” he started to say as a Constable opened the door.
“Yes?” The man asked gruffly.
It certainly wasn’t the welcome he’d been expecting. “I am Lord Alecsian Rothchild Brighton, the Third, and I’ve come to collect a debt that Monsieur Blanoiś owes me.” Alec handed the officer his card. “I was told I could find him here.”
The Constable took it, and then nodded. “He’s here,” he surprised them further by adding, “but good luck collecting it, the poor bastard shot himself last night.”
Alec raised a brow at this information as the Constable motioned for them to enter. He looked over at Samuel whose own expression mirrored that of his own.
“Maid found him this morning.” The officer informed them as they followed him to the salon where the body lay. The dead man was still where he’d fallen, slumped back on the sofa, the gun in his hand.
“Poor bugger,” Samuel glanced down at the body. “Rotten luck ol’ boy,” he whispered to the side for Alec’s benefit.
Alec couldn’t agree more, it was highly doubtful that the older gentleman from last night’s card game would buy the note now. It was most unfortunate, especially for the Frenchman. “Are you sure it was suicide?” he asked, watching as the Constable made some notes in his report.
“Unfortunately, you’re not the first creditors to show up since I have been here.” The Constable looked grimly over at the deceased man. “I can’t see as how it’s the easy way out though.” He scribbled on a tablet of paper he held, handing it out to them. “According to his maid, this is the name of his solicitor.”
“Thank you, you’ve been most helpful.” Samuel responded when it seemed Alec was too preoccupied to do so himself. Taking the paper, he nudged Alec to get his attention.
Alec accepted the note and nodded his thanks. “We’ll see ourselves out. Good day.” Once outside he turned to Samuel. “Did you happen to notice anything unusual about that?”
An expression of surprise registered across Samuel’s face, “You mean other than the dead man?”
Alec gave him a look of annoyance. “There was damage to that chair next to him and I also noticed an impression left on the carpet from a table that used to be in front of the divan he was on.”
“Really?”
“Did you see anything made of glass anywhere in that room?” Alec’s voice was clouded with suspicion.
“No…?”
“Nor did I, not even a single lamp, but I did spot a piece of broken glass behind the chair in the corner.” With a grim expression, he looked over at Samuel. “That’s not all. The gun he used was in his right hand.”
“So…?”
“Last night at the table, I noticed that Monsieur Blanoiś was left handed.” Alec glanced meaningfully over at Samuel. “I’m beginning to wonder if the Frenchman had some visitors of his own last night.”
“You think he was murdered?” Samuel paused in his step.
“Possibly…” Alec continued on as the Coroner’s wagon pulled up in front.
Samuel rushed up beside him, speaking in a hushed tone. “And you actually think there might be a link between this and the men who attacked you?”
“I can’t say. I thought last night they were after the winnings.”
Samuel nodded in agreement, he too had assumed as much. He remained silent until they were back inside the carriage. “Tell you what,” Samuel tore his eyes away from the townhouse as the carriage pulled forward, “I know a man that may be able to tell us something about your map.”
~*~
They arrived at the British Museum of Antiquities shortly after noon. “How is it that you know this man?” Alec had to duck his head as they entered the offices in the rear.
“He was a friend of my father,” Samuel responded just as an older man with thinning hair approached them.
“Samuel, what a delight to see you. Come in, come in and sit down.” He said while ushering them into a room filled with objects d’art and other artifacts. The desk in the middle had several piles of books and sheaves of paper scattered about.
Samuel made his way around the clutter to the other side
of the desk. “Thank you for seeing us, Sir Richard.”
“My pleasure, tell me how is your mother doing?”
“She’s wonderful, taking in the waters at Bath this season.”
“Good, good. Delightful woman.”
Alec and Samuel exchanged a quick glance. He apparently knew a side of Samuel’s mother they were both ignorant of.
Alec shook his hand as introductions were made. Sir Richard seated himself awkwardly behind the desk with a groan. “Leg seems worse on rainy days like this. Growing old is not for the feint of heart I tell you.”
Alec and Samuel took chairs on the other side. Once they were seated, Sir Richard leaned forward. “Tell me, what can I do for you?”
“Well, it’s actually for my friend here. He recently acquired a paper of considerable value and we were wondering if you could shed some light on the document for us.”
Alec retrieved the scroll from his jacket and placed it on the desk.
“I’ll do my best.” Richard carefully unrolled the parchment, studying it for several minutes.
“Hmmm.”
Both Alec and Samuel looked at each other again when nothing else followed.
After several minutes of intense scrutiny, Sir Richard looked up at them over the small glasses perched on his nose. “You know this reminds me of some of the writings in Bombay where I served under your father, as it were. You know those days were—”
Thirty minutes of reminiscing later, Alec and Samuel were finally able to get some information.
“Cuneiform, an ancient language which gave birth to Arabic and Latin, actually all of the Semitic—”
Another fifteen minutes passed as they were lectured on the origins of the written word. It did however explain the chicken scratch.
“It’s most unusual that it has been written in a combination of cuneiform and hieroglyphics.” Sir Richard was saying. “But how I do digress, when what you wanted to know is what this map refers to.”