Read Online The Parliament of Blood by Justin Richards - Free Book Online Page B

stuff. Charlie said …’ Mikey paused, looking over his shoulder before going on: ‘He said it was round the back of the Damnation Club.’

    It took them several journeys. Since Sir William was not prepared to allow Lord Ruthven’s men down into his archives, he and George carried the heavy casket between them. They struggled up the stone stairway that led from the vaults to the ground floor of the British Museum.
    They left the large, rectangular casket in Sir William’s office, where it took up most of the empty space in front of the desk. Then they went back for the canopic jars.
    â€˜I was going to examine those photographs this morning,’ George said. ‘See if I can discern anything unusual about them. I mean, about how they have been developed and printed up.’
    â€˜It’s a good thing we were able to get Pennyman to photograph this casket and the jars last night,’ Sir William said. ‘At least we shall have a record of them.’
    Sir William was tapping his finger thoughtfully against his chin. ‘There are some other photographs that might be of interest,’ he said.
    The Department’s catalogues were kept in the work-room, shelved in a heavy, glass-fronted bookcase. Each of the leather-bound volumes had a number written on the spine in dark ink. The first of the books was an index which Sir William consulted.
    â€˜Ah yes. Volume 17 is listed here as
Artwork, Paintings, Photographic
.’ He replaced the index and removed volume 17 of the catalogue, which he handed to George.
    George opened the book on the workbench so theycould both look at it. He turned through the heavy parchment pages until he reached a section headed ‘Photographic Items’.
    â€˜Lens of polished glass that focuses light as if for a camera or camera obscura,’ he read aloud from the first entry. ‘Discovered amongst artefacts dating from early Rome and showing signs of sophisticated machining.’
    â€˜Fascinating,’ Sir William said. ‘But not what we are concerned with at the present.’ He turned the page. ‘This, I think, is more like it. Photographic Pictures …’ He turned a few more pages, running his finger down the lists of catalogue numbers. ‘We have pictures of things that should not exist, pictures that were taken before the photographic process was invented. Sketches of some shroud in a church in Italy … And a section here of pictures that have apparent problems at the detail level. I would think that is where we should start.’ He pointed to a complicated reference code made up of numbers and letters.
    Sir William closed the book and replaced it on the shelf before hurrying back towards the stairs to the vault.
    â€˜Did you know Professor Hemming?’ George again asked as they made their way back down to the cellars.
    â€˜Went to his funeral. But sadly I never met the man, though he was by all accounts a genius. Eccentric, but a genius. The Department was formed at his suggestion and most of the initial set of artefacts, including our mummy, came from his own collection. Ah, here we are.’
    Sir William stopped in front of a dusty bookcase stuffed with envelopes and cardboard files.

    There did not seem to be anything at all amiss with the photographs in the file. There were about twenty of them, spread out on George’s desk as he examined them in his small office. Some were very old and faded. Others looked as if they might have been taken just a few days before, though they must have been ten years old at least if Xavier Hemming had put them there.
    George was grateful for the arrival of Pennyman, who brought the printed photographs of the canopic casket and jars. Since the photographer’s assistant had already learned that there was something distinctly odd about the photographs his erstwhile employer had taken for Sir William, George couldn’t see there would be any harm in showing him