GREGORY EVANS COULDN'T believe what he was doing until a flight attendant reminded him to fasten his seatbelt because the plane was about to take off. He snapped out of his stupor to mumble an incongruous string of words that the young woman accepted as a thank you. Then she walked away to continue informing the rest of the passengers.
He imagined for a moment the expressions Antonia and Nicolas would make when they realized he wouldn't be attending the meeting and that he couldn't be found in his apartment. He didn't believe they'd be able to call the police, but rather that they'd do everything in their power to continue studying the hieroglyphics until they knew the exact location where The Widow's Sons hid the Ark.
He had the advantage over them both, even though he knew that sooner or later he would have to meet them again. It wasn't that he minded sharing his discovery with them, but he had to act quickly, and taking them with him would be a burden, not a help.
Once the riddle was solved, they wouldn't be needed anymore. Those who travel alone, travel faster. Besides, he wanted to know if Antonia was right, that is, if Monroe was implicated in Candice's disappearance. If she was right, he preferred to face the facts without anyone around to mock his naiveté.
He calculated the money he had withdrawn from the bank just before boarding the plane: it was the bulk of his savings not tied to a pension plan. He carried about 3,000 euros in 500-euro notes— neatly folded and hidden inside his wallet — which he was supposed to exchange for Egyptian pounds upon arrival at Cairo International Airport.
He figured he'd have enough to spend a long time in Egypt, without having to sleep in a hotel room with three people to a room, with cockroaches, fleas, and crabs gnawing at his back. He didn't know how long his impromptu vacation would last, but he knew very well that without work and squandering the little money left in his checking account, his finances would be hurt more than he'd hoped.
He thought of Candice, and that gave him the courage to continue. As the plane reached cruising speed and the flight stabilized, a flight attendant's voice came over the microphones, reminding them, in several languages, that they could unbuckle their seatbelts.
Gregory Evans took the opportunity to retrieve the printed text of The Mystery of the Cathedrals from his suitcase. He glanced at the first chapter and dove right in. He read for a little over half an hour, until the flight attendant arrived again, this time dragging a drinks cart. He decided to take a break and have a gin and tonic.
As he sipped his drink with pleasure, he remembered the riddle the Queen of Sheba had asked him:
— If you wish to know the truth, you must first find the key to the secret of our lodge, which is carefully hidden inside an ivory box covered in fur. —
Since it was a very complicated riddle, he sighed twice just thinking about it. When he was little, he loved the riddles he found in textbooks, but this was different. This wasn't a game, but rather a matter of finding the coherent answer that would put him on the right track to Candice, once he landed in the ancient land to which the Nile gave life.
"A key hidden inside an ivory box covered in hair... A key hidden inside an ivory box covered in hair..." — I couldn't stop thinking about it all the time.
— Damn riddle! — he muttered aloud.
A little girl in the seat across the aisle looked at him curiously, taking advantage of her mother's attentive reading of the newspaper. She had brown hair tied in two pigtails that fell on either side of her head. Her cheeks were gracefully dotted with freckles. She also possessed an unusual perceptiveness for a child her age, something that caught Greg's attention.
— Is something wrong with you? — he asked quietly, as if he didn't want the others to know what they were talking about.
— I have a problem — he whispered in turn, sharing his secret with her. — Someone gave me a riddle that I can't decipher. If I can't solve it, I'll never be able to return to Spain...
— That's terrible! — exclaimed the little girl, suspecting, however, that the man was playing a joke on her.
Gregory Evans thought the same thing, although he was actually serious.
— Do you think you can help me? — He continued the joke, because it amused him and helped release the tension that had built up over the last few hours.
— Of course — she said proudly. — I'm the smartest in the class — she concluded, lifting her chin.
The lady next to the girl stopped reading the newspaper to give the stranger a sympathetic look. He winked at her, making her an accomplice in his mischief. After nodding in agreement, she continued reading the article, leaving them alone.
— Listen... — the detective said with his best smile. — What key is hidden inside an ivory box covered in fur?
— You mean the keys to the song, the ones at the bottom of the sea? — she asked.
Gregory Evans burst out laughing. He found the friendly freckled woman's exit amusing.
— No, little one. Those aren't the keys.
The girl laughed.
— Then it must be the language.
He looked at her, surprised.
— What did you say? — he asked after a brief silence.
— It must be the language! — she repeated, with an impatient gesture.
— Let's see! Explain yourself, please.
The girl sighed, full of resignation, like an adult. She thought that man was more foolish than he seemed.
— It's very simple — he told her confidentially. — The head is the box, the teeth are the ivory, the hair is the fur... and the tongue is the key to the words.
For a moment, Greg was disconcerted. He searched his mind for a reason or excuse to respond, when he remembered the lines from the nursery rhyme the girl had mentioned:
"Where are the keys? (...) At the bottom of the sea. (...)"
The newspaper lady said something to what must have been her daughter, and she put on her headphones to listen to the television program that was starting at that moment and forget, for the moment, that strange man and his enigmas.
Gregory Evans, however, couldn't stop thinking about what the girl had said... and something else that had to do with a conversation he'd had with Monroe. The Sancti Quattro Coronatti were sealed alive in lead coffins and thrown to the bottom of the sea — a situation similar to the verses of the song — as punishment for their silence and strict adherence to the rules. So, it made sense to think that the correct answer was indeed the tongue. It was an allegorical comparison of the Freemason's true commitment: to keep his mouth shut when questioned about the brotherhood's affairs.
"Don't tell anyone the chamber's secrets, or anything they do in the store..."
That was their motto. Hadn't they cut out Viana and Clarice's tongues as punishment for their indiscretion, and written their ultimate warning in blood on the wall?
But, he asked himself worriedly, what should he keep silent about?