boxes.” He gestured to a sleek, modern, one-story, gray-stucco building. “Would you like to see them?”
“Yes, I would.” She was already striding toward the museum. “Now!”
The first thing she saw as she approached the building was the huge glass-enclosed gold-framed portrait of Zahra Kiyani beside the front door. Dressed in a white designer suit, she looked beautiful, sad, and dignified. Her arms were outstretched as if in welcome.
Eve ignored it, threw open the glass door, and went inside. Clean, bright, beautifully tiled green-and-beige floors. Several glass cases with very few artifacts, as Gideon had said. “Where are those boxes?”
Gideon nodded at a row of rust-colored leather boxes with elaborate gold lettering on the front. No names, just numerals. Not simple, dignified numerals, they were scrolled, then encircled with a fanciful design.
Hajif came to stand beside Eve. “Her soldiers told us that Amari is probably in the fourth box. And if we would consent to have the DNA test, Madam President’s experts would be able to tell for certain.”
And, until he consented, his grandson’s skull would remain in that beautifully crafted box like a forgotten library book on a shelf only yards from their village. Or even worse, a macabre reminder of his death at the hands of Varak and his butchers. Jill had told Eve that the U.N. officials wanted those children to be buried and forgotten, and it was clear Zahra Kiyani was also systematically working to make that happen. Why? It could only be that as the surviving ruler of the conflict, she wanted everyone to forget the details of that brutal struggle to secure her new image. Children were so often used as pawns.
Eve could feel the anger begin to rise within her. It was all wrong. No one should forget those children. It was even worse than what had happened to Nora. At least the police were trying to find out what had happened to her. It didn’t matter that those butchers who had killed the children of Robaku were known and probably ended up butchered themselves. Their victims needed to come home to the people who had loved them.
“Four?” Eve went behind the counter and looked at the glossy Roman numerals. “They said your grandson was numeral four?” She found the box and pulled it out. “And he was nine years old?” She laid the box on the counter and carefully opened it. The skull was blackened by fire but as carefully preserved as Gideon had said. “Let’s take a look…”
“May I ask what you’re doing, Eve?” Gideon was gazing over her shoulder with interest.
“Just checking to see how competent Zahra’s experts are. It’s not all that difficult to establish approximate age if you have the experience.” She took the skull out of the box and set it on the glass counter. She carefully went over the skull, paying particular attention to the teeth. “It’s a male, but the age is wrong. And the long bones of the face indicate he’s at least twelve. One of the older boys in the class.” She was trying to remember Jill’s notes. “There were two older boys…one was…Maha?”
“Or Shaka,” Hajif said eagerly. “Shaka was thirteen, Maha twelve.”
“I’d have to examine him more closely to determine which one he is.” Eve carefully replaced the skull in the box. “But he’s not your grandson, and that ‘expert’ who said he was is no expert.” She took the box to the back shelf and slipped it back in its place. “Your wife was right, Hajif. Your grandson might be in one of these boxes, but it’s not that one.”
“But you will find him?” Hajif asked. “You will bring him back to us?”
She stared helplessly at him. He wanted promises, and there were so many pitfalls that could get in the way of her giving him what he wanted. She wasn’t even sure if these were the skulls from Robaku. That had been a stupidly careless mistake about Amari’s age.
“My wife needs to know,” Hajif said. “She…hurts.”
And so was he hurting.
And, dammit, there should be some way to ease that pain. They had lost enough, they had a right to know.
She reached out and touched his shoulder. “Then we’d better do something to help her,” she said gently. “But I’ll need your help first, Hajif.”
A brilliant smile lit his face. “You will do it? Anything. I will do anything.”
“Will you get some men from the village to come here and take out all these display cases and shove them outside the building?