Sam was driving the Impala, while Dean got some much needed rest. As he pulled off the freeway, Sam noted flashing lights on the Westbound lanes. He decided it was time to wake Dean. He reached over, as he made the turn, and knocked Dean's shoulder with the back of his hand several times.
Dean startled awake and took a moment to realize where he was. He checked his chin for drool and sat up straight. "We there?" he said.
"Just about," Sam said. He glanced over at Dean. "Straighten your tie."
Dean angled the rear-view mirror toward himself and straightened his tie. He reached into his inside suit pocket to verify he had his FBI badge, changed the mirror to check his hair, both sides, then satisfied with his appearance, he put the mirror back. "Remind me. Dead body, motel room… Something fishy…?"
"You weren't paying any attention at all, were you?" Sam scoffed.
"Man, it's been so long since we had a job, you said the magic words, 'I think we've got a job,' and I was already mentally packing Baby."
Sam fixed the mirror so that he could see more than the car's backseat. "Yeah. Dead body in a motel room, no ID. The victim paid in cash, and the cleaning lady found him. The body was desiccated. Coroner report says he died of 'exsanguination' and notes 'puncture marks at the neck'.
"So, vampires?" Dean asked.
"I don't know. Drained of blood and desiccated are two different stories. I thought we'd look at the crime scene and find out," Sam replied. "And here we are."
They pulled into the parking lot of the Wagon Wheel Motel and picked a space near the crime scene tape. A state police officer approached the car as they stepped out. Dean pulled out his ID and flashed it at the officer. "Agents Dunn and Murphy," he said.
The officer reached out and held the badge while he was inspecting it. He looked over at Sam, who held out his own badge, then let go of Dean's. "Why are the Feds interested in this case?" He held up the crime tape for Dean and Sam to duck under while they put away their badges.
"There was a similar death across state lines in Marion," Sam lied. "That makes it Federal."
"If it's a murder, sure, but this looks like an animal attack," the officer said.
"We'll be the judge of that, Officer…" Dean said, reading the badge on his uniform, "…Whaley."
Officer Whaley looked at Dean a little overly long as he led them to the crime scene room, and Sam noticed. "Have you managed to identify the victim?" he asked.
"No," Whaley said. "No ID on the body, and his cell phone was a burner with only two numbers in it, both burners, no answer on either. We've shown his photo around, and so far nobody knows him. We haven't given it to the media yet though. Someone is bound to recognize him once it gets on the five o'clock." He stepped aside once he entered the room and watched them as they looked around.
The room was small, with a single bed and bedside table, with a radio alarm and a lamp. Another table on the other side of the room had a chair set up next to it and an ashtray stuffed with butts. There was an adjoining bathroom which Dean went to first. He pushed open the door to find the standard sink, toilet and shower. There was a disposable shaver and a toothbrush laying on the sink, but the soap was still in its paper wrapper.
Sam walked around the other side of the room. He checked the window slider, which was locked, then he ran a finger through the dust on the sill and sniffed it. He made eye contact with Dean, and gave him an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
The brothers walked to opposite sides of the bed. The Autumn-themed bedspread had been pulled back, and a tape outline of a man was stuck to the sheets, legs draped off the side of the bed. Dean pulled out his EMF detector and gave the bed a once over.
Officer Whaley narrowed his eyes at the device, and Sam spoke quickly to forestall questions. "There's no blood on the sheets, but the coroner's report says exsanguination. Do you have any theories as to how the victim was drained?"
"We think the animal that attacked him drank all the blood before leaving," he said.
"Do you have any animals around here that do that kind of thing?" Dean asked.
"I'm no veterinarian," Officer Whaley replied with a shrug.
"Have you figured out how this animal left the room? Or do you figure it closed the door behind it?" Dean asked.
"Hey," Sam interrupted before Officer Whaley could get upset, "what's that?" He pointed across the room at a vent on the wall.
Sam and the officer walked around the bed while Dean knelt down by the vent. "It isn't screwed in," he said.
"There's something in there," Sam added as Dean carefully pulled the vent away from the wall.
Sam pulled out a pair of latex gloves and snapped them on. He carefully pulled a small duffle bag out of the vent and carried it over to the bed. He looked at both the officer and Dean before unzipping the bag.
Sam reached inside and gingerly removed a porcelain jar. The top and bottom of the jar were sealed together, and the lid had the shape of a human head. It looked like a matryoshka, but was painted in an Egyptian style, with a circlet around the hair, painted eyes, and a beard wrapping.
"What is that?" asked the officer, peering over Sam's shoulder.
Sam held the item at arms length and turned slowly around, licking his lips before answering the officer's question. "It's a, uh, canopic jar. They were used in ancient Egypt to store important organs during mummification."
"Say, I wonder if that's connected to the break-in," the officer noted.
Sam and Dean shared a look. "What break-in?" they both asked.
"I guess that wouldn't be your department, would it? But yeah. The Natural History Museum got broken into, night before last. Some items from the Egyptian collection were taken. There's a manhunt for the three suspects and everything. All traffic leaving Memphis is being stopped, the airport and train stations have heightened security. I can take that back to them," the officer offered and approached Sam, holding out his hands for the jar.
Sam carefully held the jar away from the officer, "No, no. This is now evidence in a murder investigation. We'll see that the museum gets it back when we're done with it."
"Thank you officer, for letting us in. We'll check out the lead at the museum," Dean added.
Sam gave Officer Whaley a quick smile and nod, then carefully turned on the spot and walked toward the door.
The brothers walked out to the car. "So, what are you thinking, cursed object?" Dean asked.
Sam indicated his agreement with how carefully he was carrying it. "Yeah. Cursed object. Do we still have a curse box in the trunk?"
Dean opened the trunk and propped it up with a shotgun He pulled out the curse box and undid the latches. He flipped up the lid and held it out for Sam. Sam carefully laid it inside and Dean snapped the lid shut, quickly doing up the latches. Both brothers let out a sigh of relief.
Dean dropped the box back in the trunk and closed it up. "Alright, so if this item was cursed, what about the other things stolen from the museum?"
"And what about the other two suspects? This motel only had the one guest. Police are looking for a trio, so they separated. Smart."
"I say we head to the museum, find out what was taken, see if they have any security footage."
Sam nodded his agreement and they both got into the car. Dean started it up and pulled out of the motel parking lot.
When they got to the museum, Sam and Dean showed their badges to a security guard, and were quickly introduced to Dr. Youssef Hatem, the curator of Egyptian antiquities.
"Doctor Hatem," Sam said, shaking his hand. "Could you verify that this piece was one of the stolen items?" He brought out his cell phone and showed a picture of the canopic jar."
Dr. Hatem took Sam's phone and examined the picture closely. "Yes. That was one of a full set of canopic jars that we were cataloguing from the recent dig." He handed the phone back to Sam.
"A full set?" Dean asked.
"Yes," Dr. Hatem explained. "When a person was mummified, their liver, lungs, stomach and intestines were removed and placed in clay jars adorned with the likeness of a god or goddess thought to protect that jar. It was believed that each of these organs was needed by the deceased in the afterlife, so it was important that they were preserved and protected. Agent Dunn, this item is of immeasurable cultural value, and it is imperative that you return it to us."
"Of course. You understand that the murder complicates matters, but we'll return the piece as soon as we complete our investigation," Sam said.
"I cannot impress enough how valuable this find is," Dr. Hatem persisted. "The pieces that were stolen could prove the dominance of a previously ignored sect within Egyptian society."
"How is it that the thieves managed to get away with such valuable pieces? A museum this size ought to have a top-notch security system," Dean pointed out.
"Oh, they do," the doctor said derisively. "And if these pieces had been on display, the security would have been state of the art, but we were still cataloging and identifying them. The museum believes that since they aren't on display, few people know about them, and they are inherently more secure. Come this way. I will show you where they were." Dr. Hatem walked them to a door marked 'Museum Staff Only'.
"What would really help our investigation is if you had a list of everything that was taken," Dean said.
They took a flight of stairs down, and Dr. Hatem unlocked a door before pushing it open. "Certainly. We've already given the list to the FBI, but I'll have my daughter print it out again. There were four canopic jars, several other funerary items, a solid gold sphinx icon, a ceremonial dagger, a scepter, and a number of other items." He led them into a dimly lit room.
Unlike the museum upstairs, this room had the smell of damp cinderblock. It was large and unfinished, and against the near wall were a series of workbenches, each lit by a magnifying desk lamp that was clamped onto the lip of the bench. Each bench had a different subject; a jeweled pendant on one, a papyrus scroll on another, a dirt-encrusted statuette on a third. Dean walked up to one of the desks, where someone had been using a ledger to itemize the contents of a wooden box. He pushed the lamp to focus over the box and looked through the magnifying lens to see several differently colored gems glinting in the light.
"Looking around at everything left untouched, I've got to ask: Are canopic jars particularly valuable?" Dean asked.
"They were simply the items out in the open at the time, but everything from the dig has great historical and cultural value," said a voice behind them. They turned to see a young woman with long, dark brown hair and green eyes standing in a doorway. "Taken as a whole, the collection has significant monetary value as well, though, they didn't get the most valuable piece in the collection. She walked past them and flipped a switch on a generator.
A ring of nine large halogen lamps came on, flooding the room with light. Where the beams of light converged was a huge sandstone obelisk some thirty feet high, broken in several places, but filled with hieroglyphs where it was intact. Next to the obelisk, within the ring of lamps, was a drafting table covered in notes and heavy books. With the lights on full, the brothers could see a roll-up truck delivery door dominating the opposite side of the room.
"My daughter, Raneem," Dr. Hatem introduced. "Raneem, dearest, could you print out a list of the missing items?"
Raneem bowed slightly to her father and left the room.
"Raneem has been translating the text, but it is slow going. It's in a dialect that was never commonly used, and there is a lot of it." Dr. Hatem said.
"I don't mean to insult your museum, but if this is all from a recent dig, what is it doing here in Tennessee?" Sam asked.
Dr. Hatem forced a smile. "No offense taken. We aren't the Museum of Cairo by any stretch, or even the Smithsonian, but the Memphis Natural History Museum sponsors digs in our sister city of Memphis, Egypt from time to time. As a condition of the agreement, we get first rights to study the artifacts retrieved, and this time around, we got very lucky indeed. Additionally, my daughter is currently writing her thesis on this very dialect, so it worked out quite nicely that the artifacts were shipped here."
Raneem came back into the room with a sheet of paper. She handed it to Dean, but held on to the paper when he tried to take it. Confused, his eyes met hers. She smiled, and moved her thumb to reveal a phone number written on the printout in blue ink. Dean smiled and straightened up slightly. Raneem let go of the paper.
Dr. Hatem cleared his throat. "Allow me to show you the security footage."
Dean's smile fell when he saw Dr. Hatem's disapproving look. He put on his business face. "Yes. Of course." He coughed and folded the paper, placing it in an inside pocket of his suit.
Down the hall, they came to the security room. The footage was brought up quickly, but didn't show much. Three men in black outfits and balaclavas rolled up the delivery door and moved in quickly. A red light at the top of the door came on and spun round, casting moving shadows across the room. The men operated by flashlight, picked up any items out on the tables and stuffed them into duffle bags. They were in and out in under sixty seconds.
As they were leaving the museum, Dean said, "You knew about these Canopic jars, right?"
Sam was deep in his own thoughts, so it took him a moment to respond. "Um, yeah. A bit. Why?"
"I don't know. I just never figure out when you have time to learn this stuff. If it doesn't help us hunt something down and kill it, I don't worry about it myself," Dean said.
"Yeah, well, maybe this time it will help us."
"Yeah. Maybe. So, what's with all the organs. Liver, lungs, stomach, intestines?" Dean shivered exaggeratedly.
Sam stopped. "Look, they're going to mummify the body, right? Preserve it. That's hard to do with all this gunk inside you rotting, so the pull it out. But the Egyptians didn't have this clear distinction between body and soul, in fact they thought there were three parts, and they'd all have some role in getting you to the afterlife. These four organs were important to life, so they were probably important in the afterlife. So they preserved them."
Dean considered all that. "What, not the brain, or the heart? Those are pretty important."
Sam chuckled wryly. "The Egyptians didn't think the brain was important at all. They pulled it out of your head with a hook through the nose, and stuffed the cavity with sawdust. But the heart was actually too important to be without. The deceased would present it to the goddess Ma'at, and she'd weigh it against a 'Feather of Truth'. If it was too heavy, she'd feed it to Ammit, and you'd be denied entry into the afterlife.
"Huh," Dean said and started walking again. "You hungry? I'm hungry."
Sam smiled and shook his head. He followed Dean to the car.
Later that night, a nervous man stood at the window in his motel room, smoking a cigarette. He pulled up his phone's call history, and hit the call button again. Seconds later, it went straight to an automated voicemail again. "Damn it!" he yelled. He sucked on his cigarette only to find it was down to the filter. "Damn it!" he yelled again. He stalked over to the bedside table and picked up his pack of cigarettes. Empty. He went back to the window and looked out again. The parking lot was empty, and the street outside untraveled, but in the light of a bare bulb, he could see a Coke machine and a snack machine.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled ball of bills and a few loose coins. He looked over his shoulder at the duffle bag laying by the foot of the bed. The head of a baboon jar stuck out of it. He looked back at his phone, then decided to risk a few moments outside.
He picked up the room key, stepped out and locked the door. He looked both ways and hurried to the vending machine. He pulled one of the bills out of the crumpled ball and tried to feed it into the bill slot. It got pulled half way in, then slid back out. "Come on…" he said and pulled it back out. He rubbed it against the edge of the machine to try to straighten it out, then fed it into the machine again. This time it went in. Just as he was about to hit the keys to make his selection, he heard a raspy breath right next to him.
He had been certain he was alone. He poked his head around the side of the Coke machine, with one hand going to the revolver tucked into his waistband at the back of his jeans. He was startled to see a figure there in the darkness. It was wearing a turban and had a scarf across the lower half of its face. It wore a shirt with baggy sleeves and a deep V-cut with a dark colored sash at the waist over matching baggy pants.
The thief stepped backward in surprise. The figure lunged forward at him. The shadows seemed to stretch out and cling to it. The thief pulled the gun out, but the figure grabbed his wrist in a strong grip. He tried to fight the figure off, but it got a hand on his throat. He felt two sharp points puncture his neck. "No! Stop! What are you doing?" the thief yelled. He beat on the figure's chest and arms, trying to force it to let go. He finally dropped the gun and put both hands around the figure's throat and squeezed as hard as he could, but he could feel his strength leaving him. He watched as his own arms withered in front of his eyes. He felt his skin grow taught over his cheeks and his ribcage. He opened his mouth to scream, but all that came out was a death rattle.
