Dead Guilty by Beverly Connor Page A

‘‘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. ‘‘However, his hands are crossed. That’s significant.’’
‘‘It is, indeed,’’ agreed Jonas.
‘‘How is that significant?’’ asked Andie.
‘‘It’s a royal burial position,’’ said Jonas. ‘‘Plus he had a top-notch embalming job done on himself.’’
Andie rubbed her hands together. ‘‘I’ll bet we got ourselves a king.’’
‘‘Arrange a CT scan at the hospital,’’ said Diane.
They all looked at one another, sharing the