Chapter One - The Newspaper Article

Kali felt her eyelids getting heavier and heavier. How much longer would it take? The lecture on next week’s exhibition was getting decidedly boring. Every two months, Professor Andy would hold a meeting in the large lecture hall and tell everyone how wonderful this next exhibition was going to be, and gave everyone strict instructions to do this, that and the other during visiting hours. It basically meant that no-one was going to mess up anything he’d worked on and that meant staying out of his way, out of his sight and out of his earshot.

At the moment he was blithering on about how other museum work must not distract the exhibition visitors and that noise should be kept to a minimum. At least five minutes of this subject was directed just at her and how she couldn’t work between certain hours because of the dust levels that her project was creating. Well, she was trying to uncover the incredible building that the museum had been built over. A little noise and dust was to be expected. But Professor Andy was determined that nothing was going to ruin his latest project. He was now droning on about fingerprints on the glass cases.

Kali looked around. She wasn’t the only bored one. The girl sitting in the next row had a small notepad, covered with doodles of boxes within boxes and chains of circles. A few of the new grads were playing cards under the lecture bench. The guy next to her caught her gaze and mock yawned. Kali grinned back.

Suddenly the door slammed and everyone realised that Professor Andy had just left. Did he say goodbye? Did he realise no-one was listening and just up and went? Kali didn’t stop to think. She grabbed her handbag and shuffled out to the canteen. No, scrub that. She was going to the pub. She went down to her office and pulled her green wool coat off its hanger. She called out a goodbye to the cleaner and trekked back upstairs before breezing through the revolving doors out into the street.

As she walked along to the corner pub she looked upwards at the museum. It was a grand building and the jewel of the city. Its nouveau architecture hid its age; it was barely forty years old. The fancy detailing was already filthy from the city traffic and the windows would let in a great deal more light if the museum dug into its pockets once in a while and got them cleaned. Not that it was short on cash. Despite the lack of voluntary contributions for the main body of the building, the endless stream of exhibitions garnered enough interest for people to come flocking and willingly pay good money.

She sat with a glass of white wine in a corner table in the pub. She recognised the card-playing grads by the fruit machine, pints on top and all pushing random buttons. A yell came from the group as they won a fiver. She wondered how much money they had piled into the machine to get that. Probably more than a fiver. The guy who mock-yawned at her earlier was now entertaining a blonde at the bar. She looked bored. Kali was bored too. She wanted more from her life than hiding away in the basement of the museum and going home every night to her cat.

She finished her drink and made headway towards the tube station. Her train pulled into the platform almost immediately. The only good thing about rush hour on the tube was you never had to wait long, if at all. She pushed her way through the crowd and managed to nab a space leaning against the end of the carriage. The carriage was packed with suits, briefcases clutched tightly and trying to avoid eye contact. Those lucky few that had proper seats hid behind books, broadsheets, or copies of Commute. Commute was the daily rag that floated through the Underground, read by hundreds of people who picked up a copy to hide behind during their travels. Eye contact was forbidden; a sort of silent rule among the masses. A man stepped into the carriage and onto Kali’s feet. He barely acknowledged her, looking away and mumbling an apology , pushing his way through the crowd and through the linked doors to the next carriage along.

The train pulled into an interchange and the huddled mass of people broke up, pushing their way out of the doors and surging towards another platform in their hurry. Kali found a seat in the newly-deserted carriage and rested her feet. A discarded Commute lay open on the seat beside her, a picture of an old battered chest at the top of the article. It looked very similar to the one that had been dumped on her office desk this morning. She had seen it as she came in that morning but had barely given it a second glance and had left it there, aware that she was already late for a meeting regarding new recruits. The chest now had her undivided attention. She picked up the newspaper and started to read:

MYSTERY CHEST VANISHES FROM VAULT

An old chest has disappeared from the vault where it was being kept without any explanation of how, where or why.

Lesley Manners, 42, went into the vault as usual yesterday morning to find the chest had gone but no trace of anyone else entering the room since she left it the night before.

Mrs Manners, an antiquities researcher for Brighton University, found the chest washed up on Brighton beach one week ago while walking with colleague Tony Lewis. They thought it may be of some historic value and took it back to the University for restoration. However it disappeared Wednesday night, just hours before it was due to be restored by a private company.

Mrs Manners told the Commute, “I left as usual around 6pm last night and locked up. This morning I came in about 8am and found the chest missing. I had it on the work bench ready for the restoration company and didn’t move it. I called Tony but he said he hadn’t been in the vault all week. I don’t know why anyone would steal it but I would like it back. I was quite looking forward to solving a little mystery.”

The chest is about 30 x 10 x 30cm and weighs approx. 10 stones. Anyone with information should contact their local police or Mrs Manners at Brighton University.

How strange, thought Kali. Surely it couldn’t be the same one? The chest couldn’t have just walked its way into her office! That was a silly idea. Maybe someone at Brighton has read her article in the Classical Chronicle and thought she could restore the chest and sent it to her, thinking they were doing Lesley a favour? She knew Lesley Manners by reputation. She wasn’t the kind of woman to keep things under wraps. She would have told everyone she came across about her little mysterious chest. If she told lots of people, word would have gotten around. Maybe someone heard and thought it would be valuable, so stole it. Oh heck, Kali thought. If it was stolen and was now sitting in her office, that wouldn’t look good. How would she be able to explain to the police a chest that was just there this morning, without a courier’s note or any kind of note?

She had to go back. She glanced at her watch. Too late to go back tonight. She would have to go tomorrow. She wasn’t supposed to come in this weekend because they were setting up the exhibition. Kali was usually grateful for the Saturdays she didn’t have to work. But she wanted to go back. She had to go back, even if it was just to check it was the same chest. She could easily avoid Professor Andy if she was careful.