Exotic #02 - The Hieroglyphic Staircase (14 page)

“This is bad for business and for everyone who works here. You know what the people say about the ghosts causing all this. Listen, one of the workers was telling me,” and he leaned closer and lowered his voice, “it was Beto, the one who does maintenance inside the Museum. He told me he thinks the director has been trucking in the black market for years.”

“He must have needed money badly to risk his career. I wonder what was driving him. He was very secretive behind his unpleasant façade.”

“Yes, we’ve both been burned by his snide remarks and accusations. I almost lost my job before you came because he accused me of stealing money. I had to do some fast talking. Fortunately, one of the girls here was able to account for the money he said was missing. To tell you the truth, I’m glad he’s gone.”

“I can’t say I miss him. Maybe he had second thoughts about what he was doing. I’m not sure what motivated the man. I knew so little about him outside of his reputation in archaeology. What about his wife and children?”

“His wife is the sweetest person and his kids are well mannered. They attended a Museum fundraiser one time. She was as friendly as can be, a pretty woman with an ugly husband.”

“I feel sorry for her and the children.”

Diego shrugged. “I don’t know what will happen to them or to us, for that matter. Without the iron hand of the director, who knows what will happen. Probably, they will send someone from the capital as an interim director. What will you do?”

“I was going to see if I could be of help at the Museum, but it’s closed. Do you know if the secretary is around?”

“She stayed home. She’s afraid a gang is intent on murdering everyone at the Museum and that she’ll be next. I wouldn’t be surprised if she quits her job.”

“At least, she doesn’t subscribe to the ghost theory. I’m going back to my job. I’m on contract here through August, and until someone tells me to stop, I’ll keep on working. It’ll help to take my mind off things.”

“Right,” said Diego, “that’s what I’m doing. We’re behind on inventorying, so I’m catching up. It gives me the creeps to be here alone sometimes. The two shop girls are scared and didn’t come in.”

Elena mulled over the jumbled mess in her mind, as she walked across the Ball Court to the Hieroglyphic Staircase. She looked at the jumble of 2500 glyphs on the steps and wondered if the Mayan King, Smoke Shell, had put a curse on the place. She circled the Temple of Inscriptions checking the murder site, alert for any signs that the missing boys might be hiding in the ruins. No guards around. No reason for guards. Everyone was scared away. After a futile search for the boys, she settled in for an afternoon of work on the Hieroglyphic Staircase.

Since Raul and Francisco didn’t show up, she worked alone. She took a break for peanut butter crackers and water. The heat was intense. Sweat trickled along every crease in her body. More edgy than she cared to admit, she checked with binoculars to see if anyone was around. No one in sight.

She had the computer open on her lap, trying to construct an image of the progression of the hieroglyphs when she heard the motor of an approaching vehicle. The shadows of the day had lengthened, a fact that had escaped her.

When she recognized the Jeep from the clinic with Dominic behind the wheel, she smiled in relief. Someone sat beside him in the passenger seat. Elena stood, brushing the seat of her shorts, squinting against the bright backdrop of sunlight from the direction of Jeep. The outline of the figure looked all too familiar. It was Susanna, her mother.

Elena groaned. Susanna had probably talked Dominic senseless on the trip out and given him endless details of her life whether Dominic was interested or not. When had she arrived? She had a talent for tracking Elena into the most remote places and finding the exact people who knew where she was.

Dominic, being the gentleman he was, helped her mother from the Jeep. Her mother stepped nimbly down, wearing a bright blue full skirt and espadrilles. She reminded Elena of the old movies she had seen of Loretta Young waltzing into a room, commanding everyone’s attention. Her mother was like that -- vibrant, alive, captivating. No man had ever tamed her, least of all Elena’s father who had long ago married a sturdy Mexican woman who had given him lots of sons.

Susanna wore a pale blue gauzy scarf thrown Isadora Duncan-style across her shoulders even though the day was deathly close. She didn’t look wilted in the least. Her endless energy kept her looking ever fresh, and a facelift or two hadn’t hurt either.

“Darling,” she said as she glided toward Elena, “are you all right? I came as fast as I could when I heard about the dreadful events. One of my friends flew me to the little Copan airport. The dear.”

Elena wondered who the latest dear was. Her mother gathered dears by the boat load. It would be someone she could talk into anything.

They kissed European-style on both cheeks.

“Hello, Mother. I’m fine,” said Elena. “I’m losing myself in my work since everything is such a tangle. I see you’ve met Dominic.”

Her mother gave him a dazzling, red lipped smile. “Oh, yes, darling. What an extraordinary man. He was kind to offer to bring me to see you.”

Elena raised her eyebrows in Dominic’s direction, trying to judge where he was after the trip with her mother. He gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

“Thanks, Dominic. Were you able to get a word in edgewise?”

He laughed. “Your mother is a delightful woman who kept me amused the entire trip. She told me some interesting stories about you.”

“Oh, dear,” Elena said.

“Glory,” said her mother, fanning her face with her scarf, “it is excruciating this heat, isn’t it? Are you going to show me what you’re doing, before I totally expire?” She moved toward the Hieroglyphic Staircase ahead of Elena and Dominic.

Elena threw her hands up to Dominic. She thought maybe she should apologize for her mother, but since he seemed to be enjoying her company, she held off.

Under his breath Dominic said, “Don’t worry. She’s very charming and pretty. Just like you.”

He had bent to whisper the words in her ear, and Elena’s mother caught the gesture as she turned to see if they were coming.

“Ah,” she said and smiled. “I see you two are good friends.” She emphasized the word “good”.

“Mother, please,” said Elena. “I’ll show you what I was doing, and then we’d better be getting back.”

She explained how the steps had not been well built, had crumbled into a heap over the centuries and in the 1940s had been put back in place without regard to the original sequence. She was trying to figure out what that sequence had been, keying off the bottom fifteen steps or so that seemed to be in the correct order. The hieroglyphs appeared to be stating a litany of events.

Her mother’s attention span lasted ten minutes. She had a butterfly brain, one that flitted from subject to subject drawing a bit of sustenance from every flower she landed on.

“Fascinating,” said Susanna, interrupting Elena’s account. “Why don’t we all have dinner tonight at the Marina Copan where I’m staying? I understand the food is excellent.”

Leave it to her mother to choose the best hotel in town. Before Elena could protest, Dominic agreed.

“That’s a great idea. I’ll drive us back, and you can freshen up.”

Elena liked the idea of dinner with Dominic. But her mother’s presence in Copan made life more complicated than it already was. She loved her mother best when there was minimum 3,000 miles between them.

“I do hope we aren’t bothered by reporters,” said Susanna.

“Reporters?” said Elena. She hadn’t thought of them.

“Yes, we saw them outside the hotel when Dominic picked me up.”

Eleven

When Dominic pulled up in front of
doña
Carolita’s house, a TV news van was parked in front. The reporters had found her. A man with a mike rushed over and pulled Elena by the arm to a spot at the entrance to the house. “Hello, you are Elena Palomares, the woman who found the bodies, are you not? I’m Rodrigo Ramirez of
Noticias Canal 6
, San Pedro Sula. I’d like to interview you.”

Before Elena could say anything, he looked her over. “Might I suggest something a little more showy or slinky, if you will? That will pique the interest of our viewers to have a beautiful, sexy woman involved in these murders. And we can help you with some makeup to make your eyes come alive.”

Elena wriggled from his grasp. “Excuse me, but I’m granting no interviews. The investigation is ongoing, and I’m not at liberty to speak at this time.”

“Yes,” said Dominic, butting in, “so if you will excuse us.”

He took the ladies gently by the arms and hustled them through the iron gate and toward the door.

Doña
Carolita had the door open. The three of them hurried inside. The reporter tried to follow, but
doña
Carolita put up her hand, traffic cop fashion, and closed the door in his face.

“
Dios mío
,” she said. “They have been here since early afternoon, pestering me about your whereabouts.

Elena tore off her hat and fanned herself. “I can’t believe that guy. Something slinky? This is turning into a circus sideshow, just what we didn’t want to happen.”

“Not only that,” said
doña
Carolita, “you had a call from the capital. The Minister of Antiquities wants you to call him.”

“What?” said Elena.

“Yes, the Minister of Antiquities wants to talk to you. Here is the number, and he said to have you call as soon as you return.”

“What’s going on?” Susanna said.

“I’m not sure,” Elena said. She introduced her mother to
doña
Carolita.

“We met earlier when she came to find you. That’s how she knew you were at the Archaeological Park.”

Elena took a moment to organize her thoughts. Events were gathering speed and tumbling over each other. What to do now?

Doña
Carolita came to the rescue. “Why don’t I fix some coffee? Or would you like something cool to drink?” She looked around at them, waiting for a reply.

Elena said, “Thank you,
doña
Carolita. Would you fix something cool to drink while I call the minister?”

“It is my pleasure.”
Doña
Carolita whisked Susanna and Dominic into the kitchen while Elena hurried to her room. She got through to the minister on the first try.

“Hello,
doctora
Palomares, thank you for returning my call. This is Henrico Velasquez, the Minister of Antiquities. The reason I called is that there is difficulty in getting someone to Copan to serve in acting capacity for the unfortunate director, and we were wondering, could you fill in until we found someone? Just for a week, I think. To close the Museum is not good. It does not send the proper signal to the public. We need to maintain it open and since you are on site and have the necessary credentials, I’m asking you to serve as acting director for the moment.”

She had no time to think things over with the minister on the phone, demanding an immediate reply. She wanted to cooperate. This was a way she could help. After all, she had a contract, and it would only be for a week.

“I’ll be glad to help,” she said.

“Excellent. I will fax your authority papers to the Museum office. Unfortunately, I think the secretary seems to be overwrought and has not showed up for work. This is such a deplorable situation. We are sending extra police to help keep order. Anything you need, please contact my office. My assistant, Jaime, is exceptional so please speak with him. Can you report in the morning? I want to keep the Museum operating smoothly until we can get a replacement.”

“I’ll be glad to,” she said. Was she crazy?

“Thank you very much,
doctora
, for helping us in this emergency.”

She heard the click at the other end and stared into the receiver. What had she done?

From the kitchen she could hear the voices of the others. She’d break the news to them, but she took a few minutes to catch her breath and think about what had just transpired.

She stripped and headed for a hot shower so the positive ions could clear her brain. She soaped and scrubbed, dried with one of
doña
Carolita’s fluffy white towels, and splashed on a cool citrus toilet water.

Helping at the Museum would keep her busy, although she wasn’t going near that little lavatory where they found the director. She wondered who the new police inspector would be. If they were sending someone from the capital, who knew when he’d arrive? Who then was in charge? She pulled on a sleeveless summer denim dress and a pair of strappy sandals and fluffed her hair to let it dry au naturel. She wondered how they’d get to the Marina Copan for dinner with the news people camped outside. Maybe they could cook in this evening.
Doña
Carolita always had something on the back burner.

The group in the kitchen appeared lively enough from the laughing she heard while dressing. If her mother was around, there was a party in the making.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said as she joined them.

“You look nice,” Dominic said, standing to greet her. “I hope you’re feeling better.”

“Yes, love, you look fabulous,” said Susanna.

“I took some time to freshen up. I had to catch my breath a bit after the conversation with the minister.”

The three looked at her in expectation.

“He asked me to be acting director of the Museum until they could get someone here from the capital. And I agreed.”

“This is a great honor,” said
doña
Carolita.

“Yes, Elena, dear,” said her mother. “But what about your work on the Hieroglyphic Staircase? And won’t you have to leave in August to go back to teach?”

“It’s just for a week. Things are in turmoil with the director gone. Someone has to ensure the doors open every day and keep the maintenance people on task. The research staff is at another site farther inland. Maybe someone from that group will return to help. I don’t know. I want to help, and this is a way to do it. I can do some of the computer work on the glyphs from my office, and maybe get the field workers to check things at the Staircase, that is, if they come back to work.”