THE IRREGULAR CASEBOOK OF SHERLOCK HOLMES by Ron Weighell

rubble-strewn terrain, I was surprised to see just how many pyramids lay crumbling away in the desert. We must have ridden past twenty, eaten away by wind and heat, ground to dust by time and scattered to the winds, yet still retaining something, some echo, of the haunting shapes at Gizeh.
    It had been some years since I had braved the heat of desert sands, and the ride seemed interminable. It was, I think, no more than three hours or so before Bhey rose up on his stirrups and pointed to a pair of ram-headed sphinxes half buried in the sand.
    ‘This is the beginning of the Avenue built by Nectanebo, gentlemen.’
    Holmes gestured us to halt, and dismounted. Dropping to the sand he crawled this way and that, his face close to the ground. Bhey and the guide were fascinated by such unusual behaviour. It suddenly occurred to me, with a surge of barely controlled amusement, that to anyone unfamiliar with Holmes’s methods, his actions must have seemed ridiculous. Oblivious to all this, Holmes returned to his horse, and gestured us to go on.
    ‘A large number of men passed this way very recently. Those on the outside walked unburdened. The eight or so who walked in the middle carried a heavy weight.’
    ‘Could they have been carrying the Stelé?’ I asked.
    ‘If it was a procession after the ancient pattern,’ offered Bhey, ‘the Pharoah would be carried on a portable throne, along with the Stelé.’
    As we rode on, Holmes’s observations revealed that the group’s progress had been elaborately intricate in its choreography. They had halted several times, set down the throne, lit fires, and killed birds. Blood and feathers lay among the ashes.
    The Avenue of ruined sphinxes terminated at a ruined building. All that remained was a low section of wall and a truncated column amidst rubble.
    ‘That,’ said Bhey, ‘is all that remains of Nectanebo’s temple.’
    Holmes was examining the ground.
    ‘The sand around this slab is very smooth,’ he said.
    ‘It has obviously not been disturbed for some time,’ I admitted.
    ‘But would one not expect some disturbance caused by the Ceremony, or at least by the movements of desert dwelling creatures?’
    He was on his knees again, brushing sand away from the edge of the slab.
    ‘Help me if you will, gentlemen, by putting your weight against this edge and giving a push. Yes, it is moving—see.’
    A flight of time-worn steps was revealed. Bhey was beside himself with excitement.
    ‘These steps are unrecorded. There could be anything down there.’
    ‘Hardly anything, Dr Bhey. Someone has long had access to this place by the look of things. Still, let us see.’
    Leaving the guide with the horses, we descended the steps and found a small chamber, bare save for unlit torches in slots around the walls. Holmes lit one, and Bhey looked with interest at the carvings on the walls.
    ‘Here is a series of symbols I have seen before, on the papyrus. Do you see an old man leaning on a staff, passing into a doorway, and a male child emerging on the other side? The inscription beneath it reads “The Hoary One shall become young”.’
    Holmes was stalking round the chamber like a caged lion, sniffing the air.
    ‘They were here, gentlemen, and not long ago. Can you smell the vestiges of that ancient incense on the air, see the faint sand marks of their feet? Why, the Stelé may well have been set down here, on this low block of stone. We are so close we could almost have touched it. Still, we must not be downhearted. This surely confirms Dr Bhey’s theory. It cannot be by chance that Sakhara is the first site to which the Stelé would have been brought in ancient times. You believe, Dr Bhey, that their intention is to visit each Centre of Power in turn? Where will they go next?’
    ‘It is a question of interpretation, and I may be wrong, but I believe the second site is in Luxor.’
    ‘Then to Luxor we must go with all speed.’
     
    On our return to Cairo we were able to arrange