Treasure hunt

Aspirant

"Oh, I'm sorry," Pierre said without looking as he bumped into someone behind him. He was stepping back without looking, to get a better shot of one of the Egyptian statuette that his father had sold to the museum four decades back.

Once the picture was taken, he turned back. He had a tear in his eye.

"I think you dropped this," the man that he had bumped into said offering a piece of paper. Pierre saw the paper and grabbed it.

"Thank you, I am very clumsy today. I'm sorry."

"Are you all right?" The man asked, seeing that Pierre was slightly agitated.

"Oh yes, thank you. I just get emotional when I come here, you know. A number of the objects that are in this room were found by my late father when I was a child. It always brings back some emotions when I come and see them. In a way, they are a part of my family, even though he sold them so long ago."

The man raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Your father was a collector?"

"Of sorts yes, he was a treasure hunter." Pierre felt pride, revealing these details to a stranger. He had never done so in the hundreds of visits he had made to the museum. "I'm sorry, I should not share so much."

"Oh, that's quite all right," the man said. "I have to admit that I read your piece of paper, and it intrigued me greatly. I also have a passion of sorts for Egyptian artefacts. They fascinate me. I have spent an obscene amount of time in this wing of the museum. In fact I recognised some names on there."

"Oh is that right?" Pierre grew intrigued with the man. "In fact, it's an old list. It was supposedly a list of artefacts that were smuggled and hidden after the Napoleonic campaign in Egypt."

"That's fascinating, how did you come to be in possession of this list?"

"It was passed down to me from my father, and to him from his father. The legend says that one of my ancestors was a man in Napoleon's army. I never really believed the story, but my father recounted it to me when I was younger." Pierre evaluated the man across from him. They were in the middle of a small room in the Louvre museum, not an area conducive to a good conversation. "Would you mind grabbing a coffee with me? I wouldn't mind sharing some more, You seem knowledgeable about all this. I have to say I have never done this."

"That sounds like a fun proposition. I would be happy to learn more about all this. I am Peter by the way, enchanté."

"Oh we have the same name, that's a coincidence. Pierre, enchanté."

They shook hand, and Pierre led the way out of the museum. Once outside, they headed north towards the opera and found a small cafe.

"So your ancestors stole artefacts?" Peter asked in a somewhat deliberate provocation but with a teasing smile on his face.

"You could say that, indeed. The story goes as follows. When Napoleon headed out for his Mediterranean campaign, he stopped in Malta to refuel. One of my ancestors, I forget the name now, was a French soldier in the Military Order of Malta. Bored of Malta, he joined the French army and headed down to Egypt. There, he was part of a group of men that were in charge to bring Egyptian historical artefacts back to France. He became excellent friends with two other soldiers, French Frenchmen these ones. And once back in France, they hid dozens of objects, smuggling them out of the government's warehouses. That list supposedly contains 152 of these artefacts."

Peter seemed genuinely fascinated by the story. It was the first he heard of such a story. It sounded almost too good to be true, especially the part with the list coming down from father to son since Napoleon.

"You keep repeating it's a myth, but have you not established that it is real?"

Pierre smiled as if he had expected to be asked that question.

"Well, it's complicated. But the jest of it is that my father found 33 of the artefacts thanks to this list. So it has to be true to some extent."

"And he sold the pieces to the museum? That's why you were there."

"That's right. Sometimes when I need some motivation, I come to the museum."

"That is really amazing. I would never have imagined such a story. If you don't mind me asking, were you tearing up when I handed you back your list?" Peter asked. "You should be proud of your father."

"I am very much so, in fact." Pierre was not sure he could trust this man though he would probably never see him again. "It's just that I have tried to follow in my father's footsteps, you know. I have tried to do what he did, but I never found a single artefact. I know for a fact that three priceless ones are left to find, but after more than twenty years looking for them, I am nowhere nearer to them. I can't rise to the level of my father. It can be tough sometimes."

Pierre looked disappointed with himself.

"You must not see it that way," Peter said. His voice was comforting. "Your father found the easiest ones, the early ones. The ones that remained on the list were the harder ones. I'm sure."

"Maybe. But I have an asset he never had. I have a diary written by my ancestor detailing where the artefacts are hidden, but I have not been able to decipher it. I tried to enlist my son, and he helped quite a lot. I disguise it, of course, as treasure hunts. He does not know I have been using him to find treasures I cannot find. Still not anywhere closer than before."

Pierre's phone rang. Opening up his phone, he was surprised to see it was already 19:00.

"Oh it is late, this must be my wife wondering where I am. I'm sorry, but I have to head home." He got up and shook hands with Peter. "It was a pleasure meeting you and talking. All the best."

Without waiting for an answer, he left, knowing he would soon have to deal with the wrath of his worried wife.