"That's interesting. You're right, that wasn't in the report-not in that way."

"Why do you think he is calling me?"

"I think you are right and that for some reason he wants your approval. I don't know if you remind him of his mother, sister or the nun who used to rap his knuckles. He might simply think you look like a sym pathetic person. I'm not sure yet."

"How should I handle the conversations? Should I push him for information?"

Kingsley hesitated for a moment. "Handle it the same way you've been doing it-as the firm but kind teacher. I may change my mind when I've been over everything."

They shook hands, and Diane walked with him to the lab, where they found Chief Garnett engrossed in what was apparently a lengthy explanation from Neva of how one arrives at the shape of a nose from skele tal remains.

Diane had to go to a Raymond Waller's. She'd and left the museum just before noon to go home and change into a dark navy suit. Elwood Jefferson of the AME Church was conducting the funeral. When she arrived, she sat down by Lynn Webber.

"Raymond had a lot of friends," said Diane. "He did," said Lynn. "I'm proud to count myself among them. You know, I work with death all the time and I still don't understand it. Why do people do it? It's not something you can take back." She shook her head. "Raymond was just the nicest, funni est man."

"Yes, he was." Diane gazed around at the people gathered to say good-bye to Raymond Waller. Most funeral that afternoon- borrowed Andie's Honda of the people she didn't know. About a third of them were white and the rest black. There were several peo ple from the neighborhood that she recalled seeing standing on the side of the road. She saw Chief Garnett and Ross Kingsley in the back. She wondered if Raymond's murderer was there.

Reverend Raymond's Jefferson gave a stirring eulogy about life and the wickedness that took him early. As moving as it was, Diane was glad when it was over.

The small church was hot, and Diane was relieved to finally get outside. The church had its own ceme tery, and that was where Raymond was buried. A little less than half of the congregation left before the graveside service. Diane stayed. She and Lynn walked together to the grave site and stood across from the family. There weren't many of them. An older man and woman who looked like they were probably hus band and wife. Two younger women with men who were probably their spouses, and a boy of about thirteen.

After the family said their last farewells and the casket was being lowered, Diane walked with Lynn to give their condolences to the family.

"Have you met them?" asked Diane.

"No. Raymond didn't talk about them much. I got the idea that not everyone got along."

Diane held out her hand to the first family member, a very pretty woman dressed in a black cotton suit. She had a head full of dark spirals, brownish green eyes and skin slightly lighter than Raymond's. She looked like she was probably in her early-to midthirties. Diane introduced herself and was in the middle of expressing her sympathy when the other woman, who appeared to be an identical twin, stepped forward.

"I heard somebody tell us to get in touch with you. You have Raymond's things. I want you to know, we expect to get them back. Don't think you are going to get away with them-no, ma'am, we're going to get them back."

"h.e.l.lo," the first woman interrupted. "I'm Kather ine Mark.u.m and this is my sister, Elisabeth-also known as my evil twin. We're Ray's cousins. Momma here was Ray's momma's sister. We appreciate your not leaving his valuables in the house to get stolen."

"Speak for yourself," said Elisabeth.

"They're at the museum. My head conservator cata loged them when they were stored," said Diane. "We also have Mr. Waller's journal of photographs describ ing his holdings."

"We had no idea that Raymond had anything valu able," said Katherine.

"One of my employees tells me that it's a very good collection."

"Don't you be thinking you're going to get your hands on it."

"Elisa, please," said her uncle. "This is Ray's funeral."

She ignored him. "I've already had people call wanting to buy them. We'll be picking them up right now."

"We who?" said her sister. "Ray has a will, and I know he wouldn't leave anything to you. It's not like you and he were friends." Katherine turned to Diane. "I am sorry to be airing our dirty linen in front of you, a perfect stranger, but at least you don't have to live with her."

Diane was beginning to regret telling Garnett that it was all right to store the baseball collection at the museum.

"One thing I don't understand," said Katherine. "Why did the museum work Raymond's crime scene?"

Diane started to explain when a tall middle-aged black man stepped forward and spoke to the family.

"Excuse me. I'm Russell Keating, Raymond's attor ney. I have his will. You should have gotten a letter from me. We'll be meeting tomorrow in my office." He turned to Diane. "I think, right now, a museum is a good place to hold his collection. I understand you have it in an environmentally controlled room."

"Yes, we do."

"Humph," said Elisabeth. "We have airconditioning."

Katherine lowered her head. "Please, Momma, tell me I don't have the same DNA as this woman."

"Kathy, I'm getting really tired of your snide little comments," said Elisabeth.

"We can clear all this up tomorrow," said Keating. "In my office at ten A.M."

Diane gave her condolences to the rest of the family and walked with Lynn Webber to her car.

"Well, they're a pair," said Lynn. "I've never seen twins who look so much alike and are so different. Raymond told me a little about them. He liked Kathy, couldn't stand Elisa." Lynn stopped at her car and opened the door. "I'm glad I'm not going to be at the reading of the will. He told me he wanted the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum in Kansas City to have his collection."

"You're right. I'm glad to be missing that too. I have an appointment at the hospital in about thirty minutes to have a CT scan done on our mummy. Would you like to attend?"

Lynn stared at her for a long moment. "A mummy? Oh yes, you told us about him."

"We inherited him. We don't have any provenance on him, but we're all excited just the same-hoping he doesn't turn out to be a fake."

"That'd be interesting." Her eyes misted over. "That's the kind of thing Raymond would have just loved. He'd have had me and him front row seats before you even knew you had a scheduled date. I am sure going to miss him."

As Diane spoke with Lynn, she caught sight of Garnett and Kingsley as they got in Garnett's car to leave. She wondered if Kingsley got any information of im portance from the gathering.

Garnett reached for his cell in his breast pocket and put it to his ear. She felt her phone vibrating in her purse. She took it out and looked at the display. It was David.

Chapter 31.

Diane said good-bye to Lynn Webber and headed toward her car a few feet away, punching up David's cell number as she walked.

"What's up?" she asked.

"We have another murder."

"Anyone we know?" Diane was half joking, half expecting it to be Steven Mayberry.

"It's Kacie Beck."

Diane was stunned. "Kacie? I just spoke with her." "I'm on the way to work the scene. Neva's with me.

The two of us can do it. Don't you have an appoint ment at the hospital for the mummy's CT scan?" "Yes, but..."

"You go on with that. Give us a head start on the crime scene. Maybe we'll know something by the time you get there."

"Okay. I'll be there as soon as I finish at the hospi tal. David, she was wearing a diamond engagement ring when I saw her. Look for it."

"Will do."

Diane got in her borrowed car and sat there for a moment before starting the ignition. d.a.m.n, d.a.m.n, she thought. she thought. d.a.m.n. Another murder victim with a connec tion to the Cobber's Wood murders. What's this about? d.a.m.n. Another murder victim with a connec tion to the Cobber's Wood murders. What's this about? Surely the killer left some piece of physical evidence that would connect at least some of the crime scenes. But she hadn't been able to find it. Surely the killer left some piece of physical evidence that would connect at least some of the crime scenes. But she hadn't been able to find it.

The caller had her believing he was a serial killer. Run-of-the-mill killers usually don't try to engage the crime lab director in dialogue. But Diane had a sense that there was something more to it than just a crazy person.

When she arrived at Korey was already there the radiology department, with Jonas, waiting in the hallway with the mummy. Korey leaned against the wall, and Jonas sat on a chair that he apparently dragged from an adjacent waiting room. Next to the wall on a gurney was the mummy, strapped to a board by several layers of plastic wrap that enveloped him from head to foot.

"I imagine you caused a stir bringing him in," said Diane "We did indeed," said Jonas. "Everyone here is quite excited."

"So, this is your mummy." Lynn Webber arrived, changed from her dark dress to a white lab coat and slacks. "I've never seen one up close." She stood over the gurney and scrutinized him. "Nice clothes. I like these plastic wrappings much better than the dingy linen ones you usually see on them."

Diane introduced everyone to Lynn Webber. Jonas stood and offered her a seat.

"No, please stay seated."

But Jonas rose and joined Lynn next to the mummy, explaining to her what they had discovered so far and how it came to be in their possession.

Korey handed Diane a file. "Jonas and I examined him with an endoscope. We took these pictures. We also took some tissue samples and sent them off for a.n.a.lysis."

Diane opened the folder and photographs. "These are good."

"I thought we got some real flipped through the clear images," said Jonas, turning from the mummy. "Notice that the brain is removed. That places him in the late Middle Kingdom or after." He explained to Lynn how meth ods of embalming changed over time. "See this inci sion here?" He pointed to a cut in the mummy's abdomen on the left side. "It was here up through the eighteenth dynasty. After that, the incision point was from the hip to the pubic region."

"We went into the incision and had a look around," said Korey, pulling out a photo from the rest and showing Diane. "As you can see, we didn't see much. I couldn't find a way in and I didn't want to do any damage. But this looks like one of the kidneys."

"Didn't they remove the organs?" asked Lynn.

"Yes," said Korey, "except the kidneys. I'm not sure why."

"One of the interesting things," said Jonas, "is the position of the hands."

"Position of the hands?" repeated Lynn. She placed one of hers on Jonas' arm and gave him her full attention.

Diane could see that he was falling under her spell just as the sheriff and Garnett had-though she had to admit, she thought the bloom was off the rose with Garnett.

"From his bones, it appears he may have been a scribe or some worker who had to sit for hours hunched over his work. However, his hands are in the royal position." Jonas crossed his hands over his chest. "Rather than by his side, or crossed in a lower position."

"Royal position. Why, I'm glad to know that, Jonas. I'm going to put that in my will. When I die and they put me in the casket, it's going to be in the royal position." She crossed her hands over her chest. "I know a lot of people who won't be sur prised by that."

Diane had to force herself to attend to Korey, Jonas and Lynn's conversation. She watched them, feeling guilty-they were so excited, and all she could think of was Kacie Beck. She should have asked Kacie about the ring. She should have probed deeper about Chris Edwards and why he was murdered. Kacie had known something, and Diane had just dropped her off at her apartment. What was she missing?

"Diane." Jonas' voice penetrated her thoughts. "What do you think?"

Diane hesitated a second, recalling the conversation that had managed to filter through her own thoughts. "I don't . . ." She saw Kendel coming through the doorway. "Here she is. We don't have to guess-let's ask her if she was able to acquire the artifacts."

Kendel waved to them as she walked down the hallway. Her hair was twisted up in a clip. She wore white capri pants, a sleeveless turquoise shirt and tan leather wedge slides on her feet. Kendel had the ability to look dressed up in the most casual of clothes.

"You're back," said Jonas. "That was quick. How did it go?" He had the beginnings of a frown, as if a quick return might have meant failure.

"I got back an hour ago." Kendel grinned. "We are now the owner of a collection of twelfth-dynasty amu lets that is most likely from our mummy's wrappings."

"You did it. Good for you, girl," said Jonas. His face broke into a broad smile.

"Well done," said Diane. "How much did it cost us?"

"I came in way under budget. People still want im mortality. The collection will be called the Robert Lyon Rider Collection." She made a frame in the air with her hands. "We'll have a wonderful gold plaque labeling the room and the collection."

"Good job. You said they are twelfth dynasty? The amulets support that date for our mummy, then?" said Diane.

"Yes. I was very happy when I saw them. There's a couple of lovely scarabs, a beautiful collection of carved fish, several figurines. I'm still establishing a paper trail to our mummy, but it's looking good. The Riders had wills describing the artifacts and even a letter that described the unwrapping party, with"-Kendel paused dramatically before she spoke again-"a mention of our Victorian pickle jar."

Jonas rubbed his hands together. "That's just great. More than I expected."

"Well done, Kendel," said Diane. "Very well done."

"I was thinking on the way back that we should concentrate just on the twelfth dynasty in the exhibit-something like Everyday Life in TwelfthDynasty Egypt."

"Good idea," said Diane. "That tight focus is a good way to make the most of the handful of items we have. I'd like to see a time line that shows what was going on in other parts of the world during that same period. Set up a meeting with the exhibit plan ners and we'll start on it. It would be good if we can make the opening dovetail with a fund-raiser."

"Do you want me to put feelers out for other acqui sitions?" asked Kendel.

"Let me look at the budget. It might be better to use the resources to do a fine exhibit with what we have. We can always branch out later."

Diane introduced Kendel to Lynn, who stood be tween Jonas and Korey, observing Diane's a.s.sistant director.

"Good to meet you. Love your shoes," said Lynn. "Gucci?"

"Michael Kors," said Kendel, holding out her hand to Lynn.

A technician came out to the corridor. "We're ready for our patient."

He took the gurney into the imaging room and di rected them into the viewing room where several staff from the hospital had a.s.sembled to watch. The mummy was a celebrity. Someone had even called the newspaper. A reporter, a young woman who looked like she might still be a journalism student and an equally young photographer hurried through the door just behind Diane and her staff.

"Thanks for asking me," said Lynn. "This is a nice thing to come back to after burying Raymond."

"I'm happy to have you look at the scan and offer any ideas on what you see."

The viewing room was actually too small for the crowd gathered there. It was already getting hot, but no one but Diane seemed to notice. When they were all settled, Jonas repeated the story of the mummy to the reporter and the crowd of technicians, nurses and doctors. Diane imagined that he must have been a great lecturer. He took all the bits and pieces of infor mation they had discovered so far and wove a fascinat ing story. As he spoke, Diane watched the technicians lift the mummy from the gurney onto the CT platform. The photographer snapped pictures as the mummy started his journey into the circle.