The Little Shop of Hidden Treasures Part One: Starting Over by Holly Hepburn (early reader books TXT) 📗

secret of the puzzle box and revealed the scarab ring, with its mysterious letter.

‘I spent most of yesterday evening trying to find out if there were any society scandals involving the Tutankhamun excavations in nineteen twenty two or twenty three, but no real luck so far,’ Hope finished, shaking her head. ‘The only gossip I could find was about Lord Carnarvon’s daughter, Evelyn, and Howard Carter, the famous archaeologist, but that was all strenuously denied and certainly never reached the point of an engagement.’

Her dad shrugged. ‘It might have been a clandestine affair. Maybe no one knew they were engaged.’

Hope considered the suggestion. ‘It would definitely have been a scandal – he was quite a bit older than her and didn’t move in the same social circles. But Evelyn was still in Cairo in April nineteen twenty three. Her father died there and she came back to England afterwards, plus the letter was signed B, so it can’t be her.’

‘Sounds like opening the box was just the start of the puzzle,’ he said. ‘I agree that your mystery writer was probably a member of the aristocracy, though. Archaeology held a real fascination for a lot of them so she might even have been working on the excavations, if she had the right family connections.’

It was a possibility that had occurred to Hope too but details about the women who’d been part of the incredible discoveries in Luxor were almost non-existent, at least as far as Hope had been able to discover. There had been plenty about the men, of course. ‘Maybe,’ she said, sighing. ‘But I don’t know where to start looking. The only facts I have are a date, an initial and a location.’

‘And the ring,’ her father pointed out. ‘That sounds quite distinctive.’

She brightened. ‘That’s true. Will was going to see whether he could find out who manufactured it, which might lead us somewhere.’

‘It might,’ he agreed. ‘You could also try the university. They have a pretty distinguished Department of Archaeology and I’m sure they’d be interested in looking at the ring. And if your heartbreaker was a local archaeologist, they might know who she was.’

It was a great idea, Hope thought as she sat back in her seat. ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’

Her dad tapped the side of his head gravely. ‘See? Not just a hat rack.’

‘Definitely not,’ she said, grinning. ‘Thanks, Dad, I’ll look up who to contact on the university website.’

‘Just make sure you keep me in the loop,’ he said. ‘I’m hooked now.’

‘I will,’ Hope said, and reached for her phone. The sooner she emailed the university, the sooner she’d get a response.

It took two days for a reply to come through. Hope had sent it to a general address, with a request that it might be forwarded on to the most appropriate person, and the response came from a Professor McCormack.

Hi Hope,

Thanks for contacting the university with your enquiry. I’m a specialist in Egyptology so your email has found its way to me and I confess I am intrigued by both the letter and the ring you describe. You mention that the ring is being restored by a local jeweller but it would be a good idea to put the letter in an acid-free document sleeve, to ensure it is protected from damage.

I’d be very interested in seeing your artefacts and shedding any light I can on their origins – might it be possible for you to bring them to the university? The Department’s administrative manager is Judy Medrington and she has access to my diary – for ease, I’ve copied her into this email.

I look forward to being of help.

Kind regards,

Ciaran McCormack

She forwarded the email to Mr Young, who suggested they discussed its contents further on Tuesday morning, when Hope was working next. But the mystery scratched at Hope’s subconscious and she found herself falling down online rabbit holes, searching for clues that might help her identify the letter writer. By Saturday afternoon, she gave in to her restlessness and braved the hazy heat that hung over the city’s crowded streets to visit her favourite bakery for a much-needed treat. And since she was already out, it seemed silly not to wander a little further north to High Petergate and the Emporium.

Predictably, the shop was busier than during the week and the aisles seemed to be bursting with treasure seekers. Mr Young was behind the counter, manning the till, but he caught her eye and smiled as she walked in.

‘Five minutes,’ he mouthed over the head of the woman he was serving and Hope nodded in reply. She made her way to the book room, where the browsing customers seemed to sense a respectful silence was required, and immediately lost herself among the shelves.

She wasn’t surprised to see half an hour had passed when Mr Young finally came to find her. He apologized for keeping her waiting but she waved it away. ‘It’s my own fault for coming in at the weekend,’ she said ruefully. ‘I should have known you’d be busy.’

‘Never too busy to turn detective,’ he replied. ‘At least, I assume that’s why you’re here.’

Hope nodded. ‘Tuesday seemed such a long way away,’ she admitted. ‘Have you got a few minutes to talk now?’

Mr Young smiled. ‘Of course. Shall we escape upstairs?’

Once they were seated in the small but impeccably organized first floor office, Hope pulled up the email on her phone.

‘Obviously, the ring isn’t an actual Ancient Egyptian artefact but I thought I’d mention it to encourage a speedier reply,’ she explained. ‘Who can resist the whiff of romantic scandal?’

Mr Young inclined his head gravely. ‘Who indeed? I hope you reassured Professor McCormack that we have taken professional care of the letter.’

Hope felt her cheeks grow warm. ‘Of course. I didn’t say that I worked here in my initial email, but I mentioned it in my follow-up message.’ She hesitated. ‘I hope you don’t mind but the Professor had a window in his diary on Monday afternoon