Chapter 4: In the Stacks

Angela found the file she was looking for in the museum’s archive. It was tucked away on one of the shelves in The Stacks, as everyone referred to the line of mobile shelving used to keep the smaller items not on display and the documents referring to the museum’s collections. There, amongst scholarly tomes, folders of photographs, and yellowing manilla files, was a box file carrying the reference number from the purse’s catalogue card.

Inside, Angela found a small number of documents.

First of all there was a letter with the crest of Highclere Castle, the home of the Carnarvons, at its head. Dated 1928 and addressed to the then curator, it said,”I think the museum might value this purse for your collection, if not now, then in years to come. I hope you will agree it is a fine example of the jeweller’s craft. Certainly, Howard,” (Angela assumed that Carter was meant by this), “considers it an item in the same spirit of craftsmanship as those he found in the tomb. I carried it on many occasions.” It was signed, “Evelyn Beauchamp”.

There were other items in the file. At the top was a receipt from Asprey the jewellers for the bag for the sum of £250 – over £4500 in today’s money, Angela realised. Then there were four pages of flimsy faded paper on which had been typed a summary of the significance of the imagery in the beadwork on the purse.

Angela was about to return the documents to the file when she noticed two more things. Firstly another letter had got caught on the staple of the summary and then there was a handwritten note on the back of Lady Evelyn’s letter. It was easy to see how they had been overlooked. “They say you should never give an empty purse, so I’ve also put in a small ring that I had from Howard. The thing has caused enough problems. It’s probably best in a museum. E.B.”

There was nothing to suggest Lady Evelyn had meant by “enough problems” in her letter but it did at least explain the ring’s presence.

The other paper was, in some ways, even more intriguing. It was again hand written but this time on a piece of headed note paper from the Winter Palace Hotel in Luxor, Egypt dated September 3rd 1923 and saying, “Lady Evelyn, I see you are to marry. I hope you will not mind if I say that, while I wish you and Brograve every happiness, I shall greatly miss your presence in the Valley. HB.” Was the letter simply a polite note or did it imply something more?

Angela jotted down some notes and was starting to put the papers back into the box file when she became aware of someone behind her. She turned around to see the moustachioed smile of Sir Arthur Douglas, chair of the museum’s board of governors. “Making progress?” he said in the rather sharp military manner that was his normal manner of speech. His rather florid complexion and portly build gave him the appearance of a man with a heart attack waiting to happen but he had the reputation of riding rough shod over anyone that disagreed with him. Angela had managed to avoid having much to do with him, to her considerable relief.

Angela, choosing to bite back her opinions of the board’s latest ideas, as she so often found herself doing, simply smiled. “Yes, Sir Arthur.”

“Good girl!” he said leaving Angela feeling at one time both patronised and criticised. “Well, keep your head down on old King Tut and everyone will be very happy. Him included I expect.”

Afterwards, Angela thought, Sir Arthur’s remark could have simply been an allusion to the fact that they Egyptians esteemed the concept of their names continuing to be spoken as their form of immortality. On the other hand it may have been the offensive innuendo she had first taken it to be.

She rather wished that she had had the ring with her. Perhaps, she thought, before dismissing the idea as absurd, it might have had the same effect on Sir Arthur as on Carfax.