sarcophagus looked like a rectangular box of black rock. He had to actually run his fingers along the edge before he could find the seam where the top had been fitted into the sides. "How can you tell that something like this is Sixteenth Dynasty?" he asked, crouching down and peering in the open end.
'Mostly because the only other one ever found in this particular style was very definitely dated Sixteenth."
'But the coffin was Eighteenth?" He could see faint marks where the coffin had rested.
'No doubt about it."
'Is that unusual? Mixing time periods?"
Dr. Shane leaned on the sarcophagus and crossed her arms. "Well, we've never run into it before, but that may be because we've run into very few undisturbed grave sites. Usually, if we find a sarcophagus, the coffin is missing entirely."
'Hard to run away with one of these," Celluci muttered, straightening and having a look at the end panel. "Any theories?"
'On why this one was mixed?" Dr. Shane shrugged. "Maybe the family of the deceased was saving money."
Celluci looked up and smiled. "Got a good deal on it secondhand?"
Dr. Shane found herself smiling back. "Perhaps."
Moving the sliding panel into its grooves, Celluci let it gently down, then just as gently eased it up again. There was a three-inch lip on the inside that blocked the bottom edge. He frowned.
'What's the matter?" Dr. Shane asked, leaning forward a little anxiously. Pretty much indestructible or not, this was still a three-thousand-year-old artifact.
'They might also have chosen this style because once inside, it'd be the next thing to impossible to get out. There's no way to get a grip on this door and because it slides, brute force would do bugger all."
'Yes. But that's usually not a factor…"
'No, of course not." He released the panel and stepped back. Maybe Dave was right. Maybe he was fixating on this nonexistent mummy. "Just a random observation. You, uh, get used to throwing strange details together in this job."
'In my job, too."
She really did have a terrific smile. And she smelled great. He recognized Chanel No. 5, the same cologne Vicki used.
"Look, it's…" He checked his watch. "… eleven forty-five. How about lunch?"
'Lunch?"
'You do eat, don't you?"
She thought about it for a moment, then she laughed. "Yes, I do."
'Then it's lunch?"
'I guess it is, Detective."
'Mike."
'Rachel."
His grandmother had always said food was the fastest way to friendship. Of course, his grandmother was old country Italian and believed in no less than four courses for breakfast while what he had in mind was a little closer to a burger and fries. Still, he could ask Dr. Shane-Rachel-her opinion on the undead while they ate.
The second time Celluci left the museum that day, he headed for the corner and a phone. Lunch had been…
interesting. Dr. Rachel Shane was a fascinating woman; brilliant, self-assured, with a velvet glove over an iron core.
Which made a nice change , he observed dryly to himself, because with Vicki the gloves were usually off . He liked her wry sense of humor; he enjoyed watching her hands sketch possibilities in the air while she talked. He'd gotten her to tell him about Elias Rax, about his often single-minded pursuit of an idea, about his dedication to the museum. She'd touched on his rivalry with Dr. Von Thorne and Celluci made a mental note to look into it. He hadn't brought up the mummy.
The closest they'd actually gotten to an analysis of the undead had been an animated discussion of old horror films.
Her opinion of those had decided him against mentioning, in even a theoretical way, the idea that seemed to have possessed him.
Possessed … He shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets and hunched his shoulders against the chill wind. Let's come up with another word, shall we …
When it came right down to it, there was only one person he could tell who'd listen to everything he had to say before she told him that he'd lost his mind.
* * *
'Nelson. Private
'Mostly because the only other one ever found in this particular style was very definitely dated Sixteenth."
'But the coffin was Eighteenth?" He could see faint marks where the coffin had rested.
'No doubt about it."
'Is that unusual? Mixing time periods?"
Dr. Shane leaned on the sarcophagus and crossed her arms. "Well, we've never run into it before, but that may be because we've run into very few undisturbed grave sites. Usually, if we find a sarcophagus, the coffin is missing entirely."
'Hard to run away with one of these," Celluci muttered, straightening and having a look at the end panel. "Any theories?"
'On why this one was mixed?" Dr. Shane shrugged. "Maybe the family of the deceased was saving money."
Celluci looked up and smiled. "Got a good deal on it secondhand?"
Dr. Shane found herself smiling back. "Perhaps."
Moving the sliding panel into its grooves, Celluci let it gently down, then just as gently eased it up again. There was a three-inch lip on the inside that blocked the bottom edge. He frowned.
'What's the matter?" Dr. Shane asked, leaning forward a little anxiously. Pretty much indestructible or not, this was still a three-thousand-year-old artifact.
'They might also have chosen this style because once inside, it'd be the next thing to impossible to get out. There's no way to get a grip on this door and because it slides, brute force would do bugger all."
'Yes. But that's usually not a factor…"
'No, of course not." He released the panel and stepped back. Maybe Dave was right. Maybe he was fixating on this nonexistent mummy. "Just a random observation. You, uh, get used to throwing strange details together in this job."
'In my job, too."
She really did have a terrific smile. And she smelled great. He recognized Chanel No. 5, the same cologne Vicki used.
"Look, it's…" He checked his watch. "… eleven forty-five. How about lunch?"
'Lunch?"
'You do eat, don't you?"
She thought about it for a moment, then she laughed. "Yes, I do."
'Then it's lunch?"
'I guess it is, Detective."
'Mike."
'Rachel."
His grandmother had always said food was the fastest way to friendship. Of course, his grandmother was old country Italian and believed in no less than four courses for breakfast while what he had in mind was a little closer to a burger and fries. Still, he could ask Dr. Shane-Rachel-her opinion on the undead while they ate.
The second time Celluci left the museum that day, he headed for the corner and a phone. Lunch had been…
interesting. Dr. Rachel Shane was a fascinating woman; brilliant, self-assured, with a velvet glove over an iron core.
Which made a nice change , he observed dryly to himself, because with Vicki the gloves were usually off . He liked her wry sense of humor; he enjoyed watching her hands sketch possibilities in the air while she talked. He'd gotten her to tell him about Elias Rax, about his often single-minded pursuit of an idea, about his dedication to the museum. She'd touched on his rivalry with Dr. Von Thorne and Celluci made a mental note to look into it. He hadn't brought up the mummy.
The closest they'd actually gotten to an analysis of the undead had been an animated discussion of old horror films.
Her opinion of those had decided him against mentioning, in even a theoretical way, the idea that seemed to have possessed him.
Possessed … He shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets and hunched his shoulders against the chill wind. Let's come up with another word, shall we …
When it came right down to it, there was only one person he could tell who'd listen to everything he had to say before she told him that he'd lost his mind.
* * *
'Nelson. Private
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