“I wonder if he got trapped here during the ’ninety-seven earthquake,” Dad said.
I glanced up. Dad stood on the other side of the barrier, but he had poked his head in so he could watch us. Austin and Robin were crowded around him. Jackson had gone back to work in the winery, and the rest of the men must have either lost interest or needed to return to their jobs as well.
“That’s almost twenty years, Jim,” Derek said, touching the dead man’s neck and studying the change in color. “This man’s skin looks and feels as if he died a few hours ago.”
“Maybe the absence of air helped preserve him,” I said.
“What’re you saying? You think he was mummified?” Austin’s wry tone gave a clear indication of his opinion of my theory.
I was used to getting snarky comments from my big brothers, so I just shrugged. “Anything’s possible.”
“Yes,” Derek said, “but let’s see if there’s a more practical explanation.”
“Like maybe he actually died a few hours ago,” Dad suggested. “Except I don’t see how that’s possible.”
“Nor do I,” Derek said.
“Derek, did you notice how clean the air was when you first stepped inside here?”
He looked at me from across the man’s body. If he hadn’t detected it before, he took notice now, breathing in deeply through his nose. “Very fresh. And there’s something else.”
“A light floral scent, right? I was thinking it might be coming from the dresser. The owner probably used sachets in the drawers. That’s what it smells like to me, anyway.”
“I can smell it, too,” Robin said, and I gave her a grateful smile. So I wasn’t going crazy.
Derek handed me the flashlight to hold while he continued to search the man’s clothing for identification.
My attention was drawn to the small leather suitcase on the other side of the body. “Can we open that?”
“I don’t suppose he’ll complain if we do,” Derek said, interrupting his search to move the suitcase away from the dead man.
I set the flashlight down on the ground with the beam pointing to the ceiling. It diffused the light, but we had enough to see what we were doing. The brass latches were old-fashioned as well, but Derek got them unhooked and spread the suitcase open. Inside was a neatly folded stack of men’s clothes packed next to a small black toiletries bag. Laid on top of the clothing was something I had not expected to see.
“It’s a book,” I whispered.
“A book?” Austin laughed. “Doesn’t that just figure?”
“It sure does,” Dad said.
Derek’s lips twisted in irony as he handed me the book. “Might as well examine it. This could provide as many answers to this puzzle as anything else in this room.”
“Stranger things have happened.” I aimed the flashlight’s beam at the book’s leather cover and read the title: Voyage au Centre de la Terre by Jules Verne.
Journey to the Center of the Earth.
Is it totally geeky to admit that my fingers were tingling just touching it? It was covered in three-quarter morocco leather with gilding on the spine. The boards were marbled. I opened it to the title page to see the date: 1867. It was written in French. On the same page was a fanciful illustration of a view into a prehistoric world, and I was hopeful that there would be other illustrations within.
This was not the time or place to study it more fully, but as soon as we were finished here, I was going to run straight to Abraham’s studio and inspect this book from cover to cover. Meanwhile, I clutched it for dear life and reluctantly returned my gaze to the body.
“We can go through the rest of the suitcase later,” Derek said, turning back to the dead man. “Right now, I’d rather find out who this poor fellow is and what he’s doing here.”
I stared at the man’s suit jacket, which fit his body well, although it was longer than most men wore their jackets these days. The shoulders were padded, and the waist was narrow.
“I’m no fashion maven,” I said, stating what everyone in my world thought was obvious, “but I think that style and the shade of brown are from the forties or fifties.”
I heard Robin snicker, and I shot her a smile. She was the one who knew fashion and had always been willing to share her best ideas with me.
“You’re right, love,” Derek said, pondering the situation. After a moment, he said, “I’d like to photograph the body before we turn him over. Can you stand up and hold the flashlight steady?”
“Sure.” I stood and set the book down on the dresser nearest the wall, then picked up the flashlight and focused the beam of light directly on the dead man. Derek pulled out his phone and began snapping photographs from every possible angle.
After at least twenty clicks, he stopped and slid the phone back into his pocket. “That should do it.”
“Good.” I knelt down beside him. “Does he have a wallet or ID on him?”
“Not in his back pockets. I hope to find something in his suit pockets, but we’ll have to turn him over to find out.”