The Atlantis Keystone (27 page)

Erik pressed the door-bell and it seemed to take an age before the door opened, revealing a short woman in her seventies, white hair and an unpleasant facial expression.

“Vad vill ni?” Emma understood this as a rather rude ‘What do you want?’ Erik said something in Swedish in response which Emma understood as ‘We would like to speak to Britt-Marie if she is home’. Her Swedish was clearly improving, she thought to herself. They were shown in and were asked to sit down in the grand living room. Britt-Marie would be with them shortly. Then she left them alone.

“Was that Britt-Marie’s mother?” Emma whispered.

“Yes, I believe so. I have never actually met her before I don’t think. They never seem to attend any neighbourhood events or gatherings and I haven’t really had a reason to come and visit here before. Britt-Marie has always been around at ours.” They both fell silent, waiting. Emma was looking around the room, noticing some expensive looking paintings on the wall as well as various artefacts on display in the glass encased main bookshelf at the back of the room. The room was bright and stylishly furnished in the typically Swedish Gustavian style. The items on the bookshelf seemed to be a collection of beautiful porcelain figurines and vases. One of the vases stood out from the rest, being made of alabaster, Emma noticed. She could not help walking over to take a closer look.

“What are you doing?” Erik asked from the sofa.

“Just having a look.” Before Emma had even reached the shelves Britt-Marie entered the room. She looked much the same as she had when Emma had seen her back in August. She smiled brightly at them.

“What a lovely surprise to see you both! I thought you’d never come and see me Erik! What brings you here today?”

Erik felt a sting of guilt for not having visited earlier. “We just wanted to say hello and catch up,” He said, returning her smile. “How’s life treating you without Torpa?”

“Well it takes some getting used to. I probably shouldn’t say this but I could do with someone needing me.” She lowered her voice. “My parents take care of themselves. No need for me to look after them. I have been thinking of offering my childcare services to another family in the area.”

“Yes, why not. You are a great nanny, Britt-Marie.” Erik went over to give her a hug. They had been chatting for almost forty minutes, Britt-Marie providing coffee and cookies, before Erik brought the dead woman up. He did it casually.

“By the way, did you hear about the woman buried in the Torpa woods?”

“Yes, I read about it in the paper. Strange that. Very strange. Who could it be? Who could have done something like that around here?”

“It was Emma and I who found her. We found the woman buried near the rune stone.” Erik paused as if debating how much to tell…”She was hidden in the chest; the chest that was in the space in the wall at Torpa. It appears the burglar didn’t want to steal what was in the chest, he wanted to hide it; to prevent it from being exposed.” Britt-Marie seemed to pale. She set her cup down and looked at them both.

“I didn’t know this. The newspaper article doesn’t seem to have made the connection with the chest yet.” She looked down on her hands as if deep in thought.

“You know this means the woman was actually buried inside the old Torpa manor house. Do you have any idea who she could be and who did this?”

Britt-Marie quickly looked up again. “No! I don’t have a clue. It was a long time ago!” Her answer was rapid. Almost too rapid, Emma thought. She was around back then, thirty years ago. Emma doubted that Britt-Marie would have been involved herself. She was a person without a vicious bone in her body but there was the possibility that she could be protecting someone else.

“We found this article.” Erik handed over the copy of the page with the picture of the missing girl. Britt-Marie was shaken this time but was trying hard to compose herself. The picture clearly meant something to her but for some reason she was reluctant to talk about it.

“I don’t remember this. I’m sorry.” she said after almost a minute’s hesitation.

“Do you have any idea who she is?”

“I’m afraid not. I mean, let me think about it. My mother might remember. She was teaching dance classes many years ago.” The way she said it was with something that resembled guilt. Erik had never seen Britt-Marie react in this way. Her cheeks had turned red and Erik was convinced she was lying. She obviously wasn’t used to lying to people and undoubtedly hated having to do it. She could not get them out of the house quickly enough and although she was smiling brightly as she waved goodbye from the door as they left, they could both see that she was in a state of inner turmoil.

I
t was raining heavily. The rain was cold and unfriendly, coming down like needles from the dark sky. Although it was midday it felt more like early evening. The noise from the rain and wind drowned out the struggling priest. Although he was doing his best to deliver his speech loudly, they could not hear a word. The weather conditions reflected Erik’s mood as the group of umbrella-clad family and friends gathered around the freshly dug grave into which they had lowered Anna’s coffin. Erik glanced over at her parents. They were wrestling with their umbrella but this didn’t prevent her mother from crying loudly, grasping her husband and shaking from a combination of grief and cold. Anna had been their only child and a year and a bit after her death they were still finding it difficult to accept she was really gone. They were good people and Erik hoped that the return of Anna’s body and the ceremony today would help them to find some sort of peace and move on.

Erik had changed his mind about burying her by the rune stone after their surprising find there. They had finally settled on a burial in the local graveyard nearby Torpa where Anna’s grave had been placed next to the resting place of Erik’s grandmother. He wasn’t sure whether Anna would have liked this but had been unable to protest. Refusing that spot would have been insensitive to his mother and would have raised some eyebrows.

Walking up to the coffin to say his last farewell to his wife, Erik had given up on his umbrella. He was crying silent tears which were disguised by the rain. He put a rose on top of the coffin and whispered ‘I love you’. He could feel her presence there, or at least he thought he could. He thought he heard the sound of her voice whispering back a short ‘Goodbye’ but he suspected it was all in his mind. She was gone. She would never come back. He didn’t want to leave the coffin but his mother came over and put her arm around him, leading him away. He wasn’t sure whether she had done this to show her affection for her son or to ensure that the ceremony came to an end. Either way he was surprised. She had never been one to show any feelings or warmth towards anyone, especially not him. In any event, he didn’t want her support or sincerity. He broke loose from her light grip by pretending to reach for his handkerchief.

“It’s time to say goodbye,” the priest said as everyone, one by one, paid their last respects. When the ceremony was over Erik spent some time alone by the grave, contemplating everything that had happened. He didn’t want to join the informal gathering in the Torpa hall just yet. The rain had eased, suddenly turning to snow. Large white flakes were falling slowly. He felt close to Anna in a spiritual sense, standing next to her coffin. The discovery of her remains had been unexpected and strange but at least it meant that he had somewhere to go when he wanted to remember her and it confirmed once and for all that she was dead. This had been a contentious point though. Despite advice against it, when the body had arrived, he had wanted to identify it to make sure that there was no mistake; that it really was her. He had been shocked by the bad state of her remains. There was nothing to suggest that the corpse really was Anna. Having been shown evidence in the form of DNA tests and dental records he had been forced to accept it but it had not been clear cut in his view.

There had been no development on the ‘dead woman found in chest’ situation. Britt-Marie had failed to get back to them after their visit and although the police had been over to interview them, they had come with no news at all over and above what they already knew. He suspected that the police investigation had revealed more than they were letting on but he wasn’t surprised that they had no intention to share their findings with him or any other member of the Torpa family until they had gathered more evidence. Erik had not been able to sleep properly, plagued by nightmares involving his grandmother in a ghostly form. All in all, he didn’t feel well. Even Emma’s presence had not been able to cheer him up over the last couple of days. Someone in his family or in the staff of the Torpa estate had committed a horrible crime all those years ago but he was no closer to finding out who or why. He didn’t even know who the victim was, even though they had her remains and possibly even her name and picture, assuming they were right about the dancer. Her name meant nothing to him. Anne-Lise Andersen. He had no idea who she was or how she had died.

“Are you coming?” Erik jumped. It was Emma, wondering where he was hiding and why he had not joined the feast of coffee, homemade cake and cookies. He looked over at her. She looked her normal self in spite of the cold, rain and snow, although he could see she was uncomfortable, not wanting to disturb him in his solitary contemplations in front of his wife’s grave. As if she had been able to read his mind, she added: “Britt-Marie asked me to go and get you. She was worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” he said, suddenly realising that he was crying. He wiped his tears quickly. Once again Emma surprised him when she walked over and put her arms around him.

“You’ll be alright,” she whispered as they embraced next to his wife’s coffin. Erik found this a little bit inappropriate even though he knew that Anna would not have minded. As always, it was merely a friendly hug. He had almost given up on any romantic notion between them. Paul was still on her mind and he knew that his feelings were not returned. He was holding her closely for what must have been a few minutes in silence but was startled when she unexpectedly looked up at him. Her eyes were teary but bright and alive.

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

“What?” He noticed that a large snow flake melted on her nose.

“You know Paul’s message: ‘NYA TECKEN FINNES I DENNA KORTA RAD’ or ‘New signs or clues can be found in this short line’.

“Yes…” He wiped her snow filled hair with his hand.

“Well, I think we can say with certainty that it’s an anagram. I have been doing some work on it. It took me a few hours but I have realised that we were right. Paul, forever the linguist, has made a bilingual anagram! This sentence makes much more sense in English. The one solution I have found which makes perfect sense is:

NYA TECKEN FINNES I DENNA KORTA RAD FIND KEY NEAR AN ANCIENT DARK STONE

To say that it took me a few attempts is an understatement. I gave up on the anagram translation site. I then tried Greek, Arabic and Spanish. In the end, I did it by hand and ended up with this!” She was excited like a child at Christmas.

“My god, it must have taken you ages! It certainly sounds right! What do you think it means?” As always Erik was none the wiser.

Emma had an idea. “What ancient dark stone do you know of?” she asked rhetorically. “I think the word ‘dark’ signifies that this is of a material such as granite. You must know now!” Her eyes were glistening through the increasing snowfall. “What stone would Paul regard as the most important stone in history?”

“The Rosetta stone?”

“Exactly! I think that Paul may have hidden some sort of key in the British museum near the Rosetta stone! As I said, the Rosetta stone is THE STONE in Paul’s view, indeed for any linguist. Its discovery allowed the decipherment of ancient Egyptian and it’s the ultimate inspiration for anyone working with the translation of languages. It’s what attracted Paul to become a professor of linguistics and ancient history in the first place. Also, he knows the British museum better than most and we have spent a lot of time there together. It is the ideal place, I’m telling you! I can’t think of any other stone which he possibly could be referring to.”

“Well, what would you suggest; that we go back to London to check? Paul has clearly gone absolutely bonkers!”

“Actually that’s exactly what I’m suggesting. I’m not asking you to join me on this one. I could be wrong but I for one would like to check it out. It would be great if you came but for God’s sake, you need to go back to work soon, don’t you?”

“I have just buried my wife. I think my boss would understand and give me another few days. I would like to join you. We are in this together. Paul asked us both, remember?” They started to walk back to the house. Erik took Emma’s hand.

“Yes but technically speaking we have already done what he asked us – we have cleared his name.”

“Well, we don’t actually know that yet and besides he could have hidden something of immense importance for us to find, or at least something of interest. Why else would he have left us the message? Or maybe it is something which tells us where he is.” At this Emma suddenly looked hopeful. Erik almost regretted suggesting this, as it may have given her false hope of Paul’s return. He continued after a moment’s hesitation: “Or maybe, thinking about it, maybe the ‘ancient dark stone’ is not the Rosetta stone but the rune stone here and the ‘key’ he is referring to is the chest!”

“No, that would mean that Paul was guilty of the break-in, which we have already concluded he’s not, on the basis that the chest was unopened. I refuse to believe that annoying police officer who suggested that Paul may nevertheless have been the perpetrator but the contract burglar had breached his contract by not opening the chest. Also, the rune stone is not ‘dark’ like the Rosetta stone. No, there’s simply no other ancient dark stone which he could possibly be referring to – not even the rune stone. I’m sure of it.” She hesitated for a moment and stopped walking and then continued: “Although… Paul has for some reason always loved dual meanings. Whenever he set us exam questions you could almost expect each question to have two right answers. He has mentioned dual meanings a few times in lectures. His message may have a dual meaning as well. He could be referring to both the rune stone and the Rosetta Stone…” She hesitated. “No, that would mean that he’s guilty so it can’t be… I’m sure he’s referring to the Rosetta stone so a trip to London is required.” She fell silent.