The Trespass(40)
“I’ll call you tomorrow. Sleep well.”
Again the silence. Then, “You too – and Simon?”
“Yes?”
“Bring her home, won’t you? Just bring her home.”
The line went dead. Dracup sat for a few minutes, listening to the sound of his own breathing. Then he picked up the tablet and began to read.
Sceptre/Staff of Noah – prob. pt crest? B ref. Staff of A? ? section alpha…
Exp. 1920 Smithsn. Retrieved from remains lge aq. vessel.
Corresp. Ark of Noah. Ararat, Turkey.
Inscr. – cuneiform, refers cargo of ship in cun. vrse.[Part only]
Projectns. Repr. 3 sons Noah –
Shem, Ham, Japheth
Hamitic/Sth, Semitic M. East/Israel, Japheth/Eur.
Loc. Remaining part staff, trad. Ethiop.
Ityopp’is – Cush – sn of Ham – fnded Axum.
Match. crest. Lal., Ω section 1921, TD,GRC. Left in situ.
Formed basis of expo. 1922 C of Tr.
K. zig. – 7 by 7
Dracup’s heart beat faster as he scanned the tight, indented script. Left in situ. He replaced the tablet in his pocket and pulled the chain. An image of George Reeves-Churchill came into his head. Perhaps the old man hadn’t been raving after all – what was it he had said? A shame, shame. What they did. Lali, Lali. Was this a reference to somewhere in Ethiopia? Match. crest. Lal., 1921. He remembered Potzner’s voice on the phone, the incomplete translation:
From whence you came –
Between the rivers –
Dracup ran a basin full of water and washed the mud off his face, then ran the nailbrush across his fingertips. Keep going, Dracup, you’re one step closer. He peeled off his wet shirt and lobbed it into the sink. What he needed was a bath and a change of clothes. No time for that. A strip wash would have to do for now.
He exited the bathroom to find Farrell on his haunches, eyes at table height, scrutinising the crest and muttering sounds of admiration. “I’d sure love to know what all this means, Prof – there’s a lot more detail than on the sketch.”
Dracup looked again at the object he had disinterred. There in the top left hand corner was a clear indentation, set apart from the cuneiform:
Α
Alpha. The beginning .He picked up his coffee and took a long swig. “We’ll let your boss take a look,” Dracup said. He waved his empty mug at Farrell. “Better have another of these. We’re heading south.”
Dracup turned the key and simultaneously fished out the free sheet protruding from his letter box. He turned to consign it to the depths of the wheelie bin. A thin, wiry man in a fawn coat stood at the bottom of the steps. He looked familiar.
“Professor Simon Dracup?”
“Yes?”
The man advanced up the steps and waved a wallet at him. Dracup had it before he saw the pass details: the DCI from the TV news report.
“DCI Moran – Thames Valley. Can I have a word?”
Dracup opened the door and stood to one side. “Be my guest.”
“Thanks.”
Dracup followed Moran into the flat. It felt cold, unlived in. He found the boiler and turned the heating on. Moran was standing in the centre of the room checking it out, ceiling to floor. He reminded Dracup of a ferret.
“Can I offer you a drink?”
“Tea, thanks. If you’re making.”
Dracup grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and watched the policeman from the corner of his eye.
“Nice place. Church, was it?”
“Yes. Methodist, I believe.”
“They’re all closing down these days, aren’t they? World’s moving on,” Moran said. “Still, nice conversion. Kept the old stained glass, I see.”
“Yes. It brings an unusual light into the room.”
“Been away?”
“I’ve been in Scotland. My aunt died recently and I’ve had a number of issues to attend to regarding her will.”
“You haven’t contacted us about your daughter.”
“I was hoping to hear something from you.”
“You don’t seem that concerned.”
Dracup turned, kettle in hand. “Of course I’m damned well concerned. My wife has given you all the details.”
“Your ex-wife.”
“Yes. My ex-wife. I spoke to her earlier today and she’d heard nothing from you people at all.”
“We’re making enquiries, Mr Dracup.”
“Well you can forget this enquiry. It’s a dead end.”
Moran strolled to the window and looked up at it admiringly. “Do you get on with your ex, Mr Dracup? Any problems regarding access arrangements for your daughter?”
“We get on all right. And no, no problems to speak of.”
“To speak of?”