The Atlantis Keystone (25 page)

“Who is she?” Erik said in English with a pale voice.

“Do you have any ideas?” One of the detectives asked a counter question.

“No, no idea. Can you tell when she’s likely to have died?”

“I would guess, looking at her clothes and the state of decomposition, that she must have been buried in the nineteen sixties or seventies.” They were all surprised at this. “I would say based on the circumstances that she is likely to have been murdered but we would need to do checks to determine how and when. I can see no immediate evidence of force having been used. It is difficult to tell but I believe she was in her early twenties when she died.”

Shortly thereafter the officers started to pack up, taking with them the chest with all its contents. Emma was gravely disappointed. They had been wrong all along. Unless there was something hidden underneath the skeleton the chest contained no tablet – no ancient artefacts whatsoever. Not even something from the Middle Ages.

“Have you looked to see whether the chest contains anything else?” Emma asked in a moment of panic.

Erik was quiet. Emma noticed that he had walked away from the group and was sitting on a stone a few meters away with his head in his hands. She felt a sting of guilt for not having paid attention to him. He must be devastated. Not only had they not found the tablet but it was also likely that someone in his family or acquaintance had murdered this woman, or at least it was likely that they would be under close scrutiny from the police. This must also have been a stark reminder of Anna’s death and the forthcoming burial of her remains. She walked over and put her arms around him from behind. Her head reached his mid back.

“Are you alright?” she asked. She knew it was a silly question. Of course he wasn’t alright. An officer came over to them and asked them a few basic questions about the find, how they had come across it, why they were there and if they knew anything about the woman. Afterwards the officer said that they were free to go.

“Do you want to go back to the house?” she asked. Erik nodded and as they started walking Emma continued: “You know what this means. Paul is likely to be off the hook. I would say this murder which took place more than thirty years ago and the theft of the chest a few months ago was committed by the same person, or persons. The burglary was of course an attempt to cover up the murder, to keep the secret hidden forever by moving the chest to a new location! Protected by the legend about the girl, the perpetrator thought no one would ever open the ‘wall’ but had not banked on our theory about the tablet.” Erik didn’t respond. “One thing puzzles me though. To put the chest in the space in the wall in the 1960s or 70s they must have opened the wall. I thought the wall had not been opened for hundreds of years?”

“Well, that’s what the legend says, as you know but it’s certainly not unlikely that it could have been opened before. The walls of Torpa have been re-plastered many times since the middle ages and an opening of the wall thirty years ago could have been concealed. As you saw, the wall wasn’t that thick.”

“I suppose it was never even contemplated to check whether the wall had been disturbed in secret before…” Erik didn’t respond and continued walking in silence until they finally reached the house. Erik went straight to bed and Emma decided to spend a little bit of time in front of the fire to think. Someone had lit the fire while they were out. She found the flames mesmerising as she sat there and stared at them from her favourite chair. She had left the lights off but the flames filled the room with an orange twinkling ambience. It had been a long day. After only ten minutes she was asleep. By the time she woke up, from the noise of the front door opening, the room was dark and the fire had died. At first a bit disorientated, she quickly came to her senses and sat up straight, wondering who was at the door. Before she had had a chance to turn the light on Erik’s mother entered the room, turning on all the lights and pretending to be startled when she saw Emma.

“What in God’s name are you doing in here in the dark?” she said in flawless English.

“Apologies, I must have fallen asleep.”

“So it appears. I hear you have had an eventful day!”

“Yes, we certainly have.” Emma could not think of anything further when a sudden realisation hit her. Erik’s mother could have been involved in the murder of the woman! She was old enough. Thirty years ago she would have been about twenty five. Or could Erik’s father have had something to do with it? That would have explained why Erik’s grandmother had always hated him; assuming she knew about his dark murderous past. But why and who was she? She continued: “So I take it you have heard about the find of the chest then?”

“Yes, we had a call from the police this afternoon. They are coming over tomorrow. Most shocking and unbelievable the whole thing! We have a proud heritage with no scandals in modern times. This will certainly put a black mark on our glorious past, even if the murder had nothing to do with our family.”

“Do you have any idea who this woman could have been?”

“No, none at all. A lot of people have been employed by the estate over the years and my best guess is that this is the daughter of one of the servants, or perhaps even entirely unconnected to the estate. It certainly had nothing to do with our family. We have no history of any missing persons or criminal behaviour.”

“But even if it was a serving girl or the daughter or relative of one of the servants, surely someone must have reported a missing person and also someone must have known about the serious damage to the house – an old inner wall would have been partially torn down?”

“I’m not so sure about that. The old stone house has not been in use for many years. There was a time when it was entirely neglected and almost fell into ruin. It was really only when I started to take more of an interest in the house in the last twenty years or so that it was partially restored and opened to the public. It is a large estate but the old manor house has not played a part in it for many years.” Mrs Stenbock yawned as she checked her watch. “Anyway, I need to go to bed. We will have a busy day tomorrow. Good night Emma.”

“Good night.” Emma replied, though she remained sitting in the chair, deep in thought. It was dark outside and she noted that it was just after midnight. Mrs Stenbock had left the table light on. The mystery of the dead woman occupied Emma’s thoughts. They had no idea who she was or how she had died. Emma was suddenly aware that she might now be sitting in the house of a murderer. She had found Erik’s mother’s behaviour somewhat strange. Her arguments made sense but somehow she would have expected a bit more surprise or alarm from her. After all, the body of a woman had been found buried in her family’s house! She had dismissed it and been defensive about the reputation of the family. In fact she had shown no feelings whatsoever, coldly concluding that it could have been the daughter of a servant, as if that would have been alright. But then again, Emma thought, Mrs Stenbock had never opposed the opening of the wall. In fact, she had been in favour of it and had happily accommodated the press that day in August. If she had known about the dead woman, she would surely have opposed the opening; unless she thought that could incriminate her. She could have planned the break-in. She also could have influenced the local authority to oppose a full opening of the wall, knowing that a small camera would only allow the view of the chest. Or maybe Mrs Stenbock genuinely didn’t know – maybe the perpetrator was her husband! Maybe he had been unfaithful to his wife with the dead woman and Erik’s grandmother had known about it – and that was why she hated Erik’s father. But who would have killed her? She was struggling to keep her eyes open. It was clearly time to go to bed and start their search for the killer in the morning. Despite her tiredness Emma decided to look in the journals which were all neatly lined up on the bookshelf in chronological order. She was hoping to find a clue. The room was lit up by a ceiling lamp. Taking a quick peek outside she noticed that it was pitch dark but the old house was lit up. Its white exterior was almost glistening in the bright light, a thin fog surrounding its tower. She found a book starting in 1967 and began to flick the pages, soon realising that she could not understand much of the Swedish text. The only thing she could see was that what had been recorded was mainly double entry book keeping. There didn’t seem to be any comments of the kind that they had found in the earlier journals. She was aimlessly flicking page after page with uninteresting numbers…

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Erik woke up early. He had had a vivid dream again and had fallen out of the bed in the process. He had dreamt that his grandmother was standing next to his bed, trying to tell him something but he could not hear what she was saying. She was whispering. He was leaning closer to her to try to hear. Just as his head was next to hers she was suddenly transformed into a skeleton, similar to the woman in the chest. Her face was full of fear and pain, mouth open showing uneven teeth. The blond hair had lost its vibrancy. Although the eye holes were empty he could almost sense that the eyes had been wide open at the time of death. At that moment he woke up on the floor, shaking from the shock. He looked around, almost expecting to see human remains next to him. He crawled back into bed. The dream had been so real it scared him. He had hardly thought about his grandmother since her death, other than in connection with the break in, and oh, he suddenly remembered, the bible! His grandmother had been trying to tell Anna something. His subconscious had reminded him in his dream. He could not remember word for word what the message in the bible had said. Rather than trying to remember, he decided to go downstairs to have a look. The bible had been put back in the library. He put on a robe and slippers and went out into the dark landing. It was five o’clock in the morning. All the inhabitants of the house were still sleeping and the only sound he could hear was the constant ticking from the grandfather clock in the upstairs family room. Erik didn’t feel the need to put the lights on. It was full moon and the natural light was sufficient. He tiptoed down the stairs. On his way to the library he took a detour via the kitchen. He heated up a mug of hot chocolate. The microwave seemed noisy in the sleeping house. He was hoping that he was far enough away from the bedrooms to avoid waking anyone up. As he was waiting for the hot chocolate to cook he walked over to the breakfast room and looked up at the old stone house through the window. It looked magical in the moonlight. He had always known that the old house had many secrets but never had he imagined that some of them could have occurred in his own lifetime. He almost jumped when the microwave beeped to signal that his drink was ready. He took the mug and made his way to the library. As he approached the open door he noticed that a light was on in there. Apprehensive of what he might find, he was surprised to see Emma sound asleep in the chair with an open book still over her chest. He looked at her, calm and peaceful. Her cheeks were rosy. Her nose was twitching and he wondered whether she was dreaming something to do with rabbits. He stroked her cheek lightly with the back of his hand and she smiled in her sleep. He noticed the book she had chosen; one of the journals from the late 1960s. She was clearly eager to find out more about the woman in the chest and the killer. Probably with the aim of clearing Paul’s name once and for all. He was disappointed that Paul still occupied her mind.

He walked over to the bookshelves and started to look for the old bible. He found it almost immediately; almost as if someone had put it there for him to find. Walking over to the lit desk, he once again looked at Emma, considering whether to wake her. He decided to let her sleep a bit longer. He carefully pulled out the old office chair and sat down. He was turning the pages until he found what he was looking for in Genesis.
‘You are right. The wall is hiding what you are looking for. Do not disturb her.’
He read it twice.
‘Do not disturb her’.
It had been a warning not to open the wall, written by his grandmother to his wife. This would mean that his grandmother had known about the hidden skeleton and might even have been involved in the killing.
‘You are right’.
This also meant that Anna had somehow found out about it. He could not think of how though. She had wanted to tell him in Thailand… Anna had spent a lot of time reading the journals. But he wondered why anyone would have revealed a murder in a public document.
‘The wall is hiding what you are looking for’.
He asked himself why Anna would have been looking for a dead woman or known about her existence.

“Mornin’!” Emma had woken up. “What time is it? What are you doing down here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Erik said, laughing.

“Well, I fell asleep here last night, as you may have guessed.” She was still wearing yesterday’s clothes.

“I gathered as much.”

“What’s the time? It’s still dark out there.”

“Six.”

“What are you doing up? I thought you weren’t working today?” She looked at him with sleepy eyes. Erik explained his sudden realisation about the message in the bible but didn’t mention his dream.

“You never told me about the bible message. Why?” Emma had disappointment in her voice.

“I suppose I never got a chance. And I didn’t really understand the significance of it until now,” he said honestly.

“Anna somehow must have figured out what was hidden in the space in the wall.” Emma was mulling things over in her head.

“Yes and the obvious place she would have looked is in the journals. Did you find anything last night?”