Dead Guilty by Beverly Connor Page A

saying
something
about
not
wanting
to
see
any
orders
for
mummies come across my desk.’’
Andie’s
Orphan
Annie
curly
brown-red
hair
bounced as she laughed. ‘‘And you won’t. This is a
donation.’’
‘‘Nice,’’
said
Korey.
He
placed
a
gloved
hand
on
the
case.
‘‘This
is
in
good
condition.
Can’t
wait
to
see inside it.’’ His white teeth were bright against his
brown skin.
‘‘It’s
from
a
James
Lionel-Kirk,’’
said
Kendel.
‘‘Lionel-Kirk inherited it from his father in New York
around twenty years ago. His father had inherited it
from his grandfather in England, who inherited it from
his father, we think. We’re working provenance now.’’
‘‘Is there anything in it?’’
Jonas Briggs answered. Retired from Bartram Uni
versity in Rosewood, and now the museum’s only ar
chaeologist, he had been the first to express a desire
for an exhibit on Egyptology. At the moment, he was
beaming. ‘‘There is indeed. There is a mummy inside.’’
‘‘A mummy.’’
All
nodded
their
heads
vigorously.
‘‘We
can’t
be
sure it’s the mummy that belongs with the case,’’ Kendel warned. ‘‘At the time this was acquired, mummies
were a popular tourist item and the Egyptian sellers
did some mixing and matching of mummy cases and
mummies.’’
‘‘He’s
apparently
unwrapped,’’
said
Jonas.
‘‘We
think he—or she—was the centerpiece of a Victorian
mummy unwrapping party. They were all the rage at
one time.’’
‘‘You’re kidding.’’
‘‘Not
at
all,’’
said
Kendel.
‘‘The
guests
would
sit
around and watch the host unwrap a mummy. We’re
lucky this one survived. Most from unwrapping parties
were burnt as firewood.’’
‘‘We were just about to take it up to the conserva
tion lab and have a look,’’ said Korey.
Diane motioned toward the elevator. ‘‘By all means.
Let’s have a look at our mummy.’’

Chapter
7
    The
conservation laboratory on the second floor was
spacious, containing six shiny metal worktables, each
with a microscope and a large swivel-mounted magni
fying
glass
and
light.
Cabinets
filled
with
chemicals
used in conserving fragile objects of wood, paper, fab
ric,
metal,
and
bone
lined
the
walls.
There
were
a
fume
hood,
sinks,
and
more
microscopes
on
the
countertops. From the ceiling hung the framework for
mounting cameras.
    It
was a cool, shiny, clean room managed by Korey.
Three of his assistants were seated at tables, busy at work.
Across from the lab was the X-ray room, complete
with used endoscopy and low level X-ray equipment—
Korey’s newest babies
that he’d found at
a medical
surplus auction.
They wheeled the mummy case past the tables into
the
temperatureand
humidity-controlled
storage
vault
in
the
back
of
the
lab.
The
small
room
was
crowded with the five of them and the mummy. They
all gathered around the case of heavy wood and inlay
and lifted it onto a worktable.
‘‘We’ll
lay
the
lid
on
the
table,’’
said
Korey.
‘‘I
checked it when it came in. It’s not sealed. Okay, on
three.’’
It was heavier than Diane had suspected but man
ageable as the five of them lifted the top off and laid
it aside.
‘‘Oh, this is nice,’’ said Jonas as they looked into
the coffin.
The
mummy,
a
mixture
of
brown,
red
and
dark
gray, looked as if it had been fashioned from resin.
The face was especially well preserved. The skin ap
peared as though it were pulled tight, and the outline
of bones and ligaments could be seen under the flesh.
The brow ridge and jawline looked male.
The arms were crossed over the chest. On its legs
were piles of yellow-brown wrappings that looked like
a bundle of well-worn rags.
‘‘Other than some patches of fungi, he looks really
good,’’ said Korey.
‘‘He does, doesn’t he?’’ agreed Kendel.
‘‘It’s a he ?’’ asked Andie.
‘‘I believe so,’’ said Diane.
‘‘A pharaoh?’’ she asked.
‘‘I doubt it,’’ said Diane.
‘‘We may never know,’’ said Kendel.