Dear Grace,
You told me, back when we were visiting Peru and I was feeling down, that I would eventually find my calling in life. I write to you now to tell you, quite happily, that I have.
I can't explain much about it at the moment, only that my sudden absence from the university is for a reason. As I write, I am currently en route to New York City, to visit their museums and get a taste of the culture. I told you before how I wanted to visit New York while I had the chance, and now I travel with purpose.
I will say now, that while what I am about to do may seem strange to you, even mad, I can promise you that I am of sound mind and am determined to see my ambition through. Never before have I felt so strongly about the rightness of my decision. I will explain more in time. All I can tell you now is that I am launching my own expedition, and that it will be unorthodox, to say the least. I write you because you are my oldest and dearest friend, and I feel I can trust you.
Give my best to everyone at the university, and tell them I'm sorry for abandoning them so soon. The longer I spend reading books, the less time I have to go out and use that knowledge; the world is shrinking, and I must view it.
Warmest regards,
E.D.H
---
Dear Grace,
Well, I've done it. You've undoubtedly heard what's happened, seeing as it hit the papers and is apparently international news. I'm sorry you couldn't get it from me right away. I would have wanted you to hear my side of the story first. Since I am certain you will be confused, perhaps angered, by my actions, I can only apologize for any stress I may be causing, and begin to explain why I have taken the measures I have.
It really started in Peru. I had a revelation of sorts while we were there, but it took a dream I had recently to set me on my path. It was when Professor Campbell took us to the Temple of the Sun in Cusco, and when we first saw what had become of the site, I was struck by the sad beauty the place held. I imagine you were too, although it would be presumptuous of me to assume you thought the same way. I thought of how this temple had once been a sacred site, a gilded monument before the Conquistadors stripped it bare and erected the foundation of Santo Domingo on its ruin. The stark contrast weighed unusually heavy on me.
It was our conversation later, as we trekked into the Andes, that planted the seed further in my mind. The world is growing smaller, you told me, and Western civilization is growing in size, leeching into the other parts of the world. What wonders will be left to explore once we've found everything? Why bother with a degree in archeology if the planet is shrinking day by day?
But this was years ago, and now I've discovered a solution. As I said, it was a dream I had: I was there again, at the Temple of the Sun, only it was restored. I saw the golden pillars and the flashing sun disc in their entire splendor, and I saw the Inca people weep as their wealth and livelihood were ripped away. And then it was not just them, but innumerable lost civilizations and ancient cultures that were selfishly wrecked in the march of progress.
So I knew what I had to do. I cannot tell you yet what my aim is, but the expedition continues. I am keeping a low profile at the moment, trying to avoid the authorities. But I must know what you think. I value your opinion more than anyone else. I have therefore included an address where I can pick up any correspondence you send within the next month or so. Write soon, and apologize to the rest of the gang for me; either they're worried sick, or their furious with me. Regardless, I look forward to your correspondence.
Warmest regards,
E.D.H.
---
Dear Grace,
I am disappointed in the circumstances involving your reply; not really surprised, just saddened.
When I went to retrieve your reply in Istanbul - which was thankfully present - I only barely managed to escape from the Turkish police which confronted me there, no doubt informed where I would be by you. I am writing to tell you that despite this, and despite the obvious rage in your reply, I will continue writing you, although my trust in you has been severely damaged.
Have we not been friends for years? I understand, as your reply makes very clear, that you are appalled by my actions, but I only ask that you try and understand that I know what I'm doing. I have never been more thoroughly convinced of the rightness of my path than I have now, though the task before me is seemingly insurmountable. I only hope others out there may eventually notice my exploits and make the connections I have.
I will continue my work, despite what you think. Even now, as I pen this letter, I am perusing the archeological findings of a certain university, the location of which I can not disclose for obvious reasons. Their collection of antiquities is really quite impressive, hence why I plan on making them the target of my next heist.
I know you think ill of me, but I bear you no anger. I shall write again presently, although you will surely hear of my next operation soon. I hope things are going well at home, despite the news of the Germans invading Poland. I hope this does not lead to yet another catastrophic war.
Regards,
E.D.H.
---
Dear Grace,
Greetings from Cairo! I am taking a break at the moment to enjoy the sights, sounds, and rather exotic tastes this city has to offer. The air reeks of camel dung, and the weather is as dry and hot as you might expect, but I am still growing fond of the place. I know we had talked about going to Egypt together someday, so I thought you might appreciate it.
I am doing well, I must say. Never felt more chipper in my life! I think my own infamy is beginning to get to me; with three museums and four university collections robbed, the papers are beginning to spin all sorts of wild stories about me, one even accusing me of being an agent of the Axis. Rubbish, of course, but admittedly the war is providing me with a decent bit of cover, I must guiltily admit.
By the way, I heard about the blitz bombings in London. I sincerely hope you are alright. Knowing you, you're well out of harms way by now, but I cannot help but be concerned for you. My hope is that this letter still finds you in good health and all in one piece.
Anyway: Egypt! What an amazing place! Once one gets away from the city and moves into the glorious expanses of sand and stone, you can practically hear the silence. I feel the gazes of the ancient pharaohs everywhere I go, from the pyramids at Giza to the maze of tunnels at the Valley of the Kings. It is truly a place of wonder, where ancient time is still steeped in the crevasses of modern society. I am further convinced of my own mission by gazing into the empty tombs, once filled with the treasures of this Earth intended for the afterlife, and now bearing only dust and memory. It is here I slowly start the second phase of my operation.
Let me assure you, right now, that none of my thefts are for personal gain, and none of the articles I steal end up in the hands of private collectors. I bear these items too much reverence to even consider such a thing. You may yet understand what I'm doing in time, but for now I must leave it blank; I cannot risk giving you too much information, and by the time you receive this letter, I will have already concluded my work here in Egypt and have moved on to other ventures.
Regards,
E.D.H.
---
Dear Grace,
I will have to keep this brief: had a close call in Tibet, narrowly avoiding my pursuers. Only my keen intuition and the convenient timing of a passing elephant allowed for my escape. It really was sensational; I will have to relate the full story to you later.
I feel like my enemies are figuring me out, observing my patterns. As such, my travels have become more sporadic, and I move in a zigzag across the globe as much as I can. The war, as bleak and awful as it is, has proved an unbelievable boon to me, as I can move about without being detected, especially now that America has taken arms and entered the conflict.
I am pleased you got out of London. I tracked down your new address when I was in France briefly. I hope you're still reading these letters. Knowing you, you've probably determined what I am doing, but again I cannot divulge details. At this stage, it is important I keep as many secrets as I can. All I can say is that I want you to give my regards to Nathaniel, for all those nights he encouraged me to follow him on some dalliance or another that required stealth and discretion. We never did get caught, those evenings we'd sneak onto the campus with gin tucked under our arms, and I believe I owe him for showing me the skills of espionage and infiltration that I have made use of time and again. Also, his knowledge on archaic trap design has proved invaluable. I hope he writes his thesis based on this subject.
Regards,
E.D.H.
---
Dear Grace,
Back in New York again, but only for a short time. I'm afraid the situation in Europe has become too intense for me to go abroad as much as I'd like, and as such I've been forced to change my plans.
I'm also afraid I'm in a tight spot. My funds are dwindling, though I'm surprised they have lasted this long anyway. Mother and father's college fund no longer suffice. If I don't find some manner of windfall soon, I may have to give up this whole endeavor. And I've come too far and done too much to ever return to the way things were before.
And yet, to my constant amazement, I have been able to collect my savings over the years in the times I've returned in secret to England, due to one particular bank account that was never closed: the one you and I share, the one we intended to keep our savings in until we had graduated and could set out on a proper expedition together. I thought surely you would have closed it down by now, and yet it remains. I thank you, if what I suspect about the account is true.
I also wonder; perhaps you are beginning to turn around, letting your intrigue get the best of you? You know me better than anyone, so you understand that I have some loftier purpose than what is on the surface. You've undoubtedly been keeping track of my exploits, and you realize that nothing I've stolen has yet turned up. Again, I have taken great pains to preserve the antiquities I've acquired.
Perhaps you've also heard that many ancient ruins worldwide are now sporting fresh defenses? I take some guilty pride in saying they were my doing. I have studied carefully the old mechanisms and common themes inherent in booby traps, and in each place I visit now I have added new ones. Modern sensibility has allowed for their expansion, making the old traps nigh impossible to avoid without triggering them. I'm afraid I have too much time on my hands, and hope that this only deters the curious and the greedy. Why I've done this should be obvious to you now, Grace; I should hope you've figured it out by now.
I travel onward, and will secure other channels of income. I cannot and will not compromise my safety and the safety of the artifacts by seeking aid: doing so would be the equivalent of putting a gun to my own head. I only wish you were on my side, Grace. We would make such an excellent team. And I know that, deep down, you must understand what I'm doing.
Regards,
E.D.H.
---
Dear Grace,
This is the letter I cannot send you. I write only for comfort, and that my thoughts might somehow carry to you, wherever you are now.
Everything is going wrong. What little money I had left is all gone. I'm stranded in Mexico, hiking from place to place and skulking in muddy hovels like a common beggar, hoping I am not recognized. The rainy season has begun here, and I am pelted nearly constantly by a dismal downpour when I'm not hiding in some pathetic shelter. To make matters worse, I feel as if I'm coming down with something, for my chest aches and my bones rattle with each small cough.
I am alone, and the reality of what is happening to me, of what is happening to the world, ways heavy on my mind. What kind of fool was I to take on this escapade? At the beginning I was so sure of myself and of my actions. I was confidant that my vision would persist, that everything I was doing would change the face of archeology forever, and get the message across that it was time for a chane. It even became fun, a test of my skills.
But now I realize I was a stupid young man, with more ambition and good luck to burn than common sense. What I attempted to do...what I still attempt to do...is beyond the scope of one person. Oh Grace, I wish you were here so badly!
I nearly quit in Cusco. I went back and saw Santo Domingo, saw it squatting in the grand ruin that was once a holy place to the Inca people, and I wept at the futility of it all. What can I hope to achieve? Will anyone really remember, even thank me, for what I'm doing? Can I stop it from being undone?
I'm putting them back, Grace: that's what I'm doing. I'm stealing countless artifacts from across the globe, from the museums and archives and private collections, and I'm putting them back where they were found. In Egypt, for instance, I took some of Howard Carter's findings, those cursed items rudely taken from Tutankhamun's final resting place, and I placed them in the dead pharaoh's burial chamber. I then took measures to trap the passages leading in, for there is no end to the nosiness and greed of modern folk.
And I have done this everywhere I've been, from Indonesia to India to the Middle East; in Italy, France, the very festering heart of Nazi Germany, right under the Fuhrer's nose; to darkest Africa, the Scottish highlands, and frigid Norway. I've gone to so many places in the years since I've left the university I can scarcely recount them all now. I'm a restorer; a reverse-archeologist, if you will. Is it not laughable?
I cannot blame you now for the things you wrote me, for the malice in your words, belittling me for the stupidity of my actions. There is nothing I can do to keep these places safe anymore. Soon someone will get past my traps, find what I've stored, and take them away again. I was deluded to think that that would stop people from trying to get in anyway, and I fear now that they may hurt, even kill, the people that try to breach them. Was I really so delusional to think no one would try? I never wanted to hurt anyone!
But I have started now, and I cannot stop. I told you I would make something of my life, and never have I felt my life had more meaning then it has in these last few years. I am no longer confined to books and tests, and can put my talents to some use. Despite the crushing wait of my current circumstances, I am driven by my vision of restoring glory to these lost cultures.
I am so weary, Grace; so weary. It was foolish of me to think you would understand, but you are too indoctrinated in the ways of archeology. There is no true reverence to the ancient sites discovered if they are simply to be plundered for study. I am not even certain you continued to read my letters. Perhaps I wanted you to see my bravado, to be impressed by a man who was motivated and not just another spoiled rich student, riding on Mummy and Daddy's generosity. I wanted you to see me as more than I was.
I am alone, Grace, and I miss you now more than ever. But I have dug my own trench, and must hold it steady.
With warmest regards,
E.D.H.
---
Dear Grace,
Once, in a fit of loneliness and self-doubt, I penned you a letter I knew I could not send. Now I fear you must know the whole truth. I have enclosed it with this one, and regardless which you read first, it should give you a better picture of my current circumstance.
I am dying. The local people tell me I have contacted some jungle disease of which there is no cure, the nature of which being undocumented by science, as I understand. The best they can offer is to slow down the spread of infection with herbal medicines, but I feel the symptoms build a little every day. At present, I cannot actively travel, and it takes effort even to hold the pen with which I write these words.
I realize that, from the beginning, I was risking everything. But now that I face death, I am terrified. I am not ready to die, and despite the growing pain I am too much of a coward to end my own life and prevent the suffering. I cling on in the hope that I may speak with you again.
Included with this letter is a map to my exact location and a final request: I want you and you alone to come see me. I ask this of you as an old friend, and I once again put my trust in you. Please do this one last thing for me, before it all ends.
I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused you. Please make haste. There's something I need to give you.
E.D.H.
---
Professor Campbell,
I arrived safely in Mexico, and I found Edward. He had been staying in a small village in the Amazon, and although my feelings for him were mixed, I was deeply saddened to see him in his condition. I attempted to get him to a doctor, but his illness was too deeply set and there was not a proper physician within a hundred miles. And even so, he refused to be taken. I was able to spend some time with him before he finally faded. He was delirious and almost unintelligible, but informed me of all the necessary details.
I'm sending a large parcel of his stolen goods to you, and hope you'll make sure the items contained are returned to their proper collections. He seemed to make peace with his decision to give them back, and revealed their location to me. He moved the items around under a series of assumed names and kept them in various locations; this represents the bulk of the artifacts he stole. The locations of the rest have been included with this letter.
Edward also revealed to me the location of an untouched ruin in the Amazon he found, a site dating back, from my calculations, to Mayan civilization. I have visited the place; what appears to be a huge hill covered in foliage hides a surprisingly well-preserved series of chambers. He wanted me to take the credit for its discovery, but I cannot. He had a hand-drawn map on his person detailing its location, and I would like it noted that the ruin was his discovery.
I am making arrangements for his body to be brought back to England, and shall be here a little longer surveying the new site. I ask that you not bring up the letters he sent me should there be a question of evidence; at this time, I do not feel like revealing their contents to the public. I shall be reading through them again myself while I am here.
I want to apologize for any smeared ink and watermarks on this page: it's the rainy season here.
Sincerely,
Grace
You told me, back when we were visiting Peru and I was feeling down, that I would eventually find my calling in life. I write to you now to tell you, quite happily, that I have.
I can't explain much about it at the moment, only that my sudden absence from the university is for a reason. As I write, I am currently en route to New York City, to visit their museums and get a taste of the culture. I told you before how I wanted to visit New York while I had the chance, and now I travel with purpose.
I will say now, that while what I am about to do may seem strange to you, even mad, I can promise you that I am of sound mind and am determined to see my ambition through. Never before have I felt so strongly about the rightness of my decision. I will explain more in time. All I can tell you now is that I am launching my own expedition, and that it will be unorthodox, to say the least. I write you because you are my oldest and dearest friend, and I feel I can trust you.
Give my best to everyone at the university, and tell them I'm sorry for abandoning them so soon. The longer I spend reading books, the less time I have to go out and use that knowledge; the world is shrinking, and I must view it.
Warmest regards,
E.D.H
---
Dear Grace,
Well, I've done it. You've undoubtedly heard what's happened, seeing as it hit the papers and is apparently international news. I'm sorry you couldn't get it from me right away. I would have wanted you to hear my side of the story first. Since I am certain you will be confused, perhaps angered, by my actions, I can only apologize for any stress I may be causing, and begin to explain why I have taken the measures I have.
It really started in Peru. I had a revelation of sorts while we were there, but it took a dream I had recently to set me on my path. It was when Professor Campbell took us to the Temple of the Sun in Cusco, and when we first saw what had become of the site, I was struck by the sad beauty the place held. I imagine you were too, although it would be presumptuous of me to assume you thought the same way. I thought of how this temple had once been a sacred site, a gilded monument before the Conquistadors stripped it bare and erected the foundation of Santo Domingo on its ruin. The stark contrast weighed unusually heavy on me.
It was our conversation later, as we trekked into the Andes, that planted the seed further in my mind. The world is growing smaller, you told me, and Western civilization is growing in size, leeching into the other parts of the world. What wonders will be left to explore once we've found everything? Why bother with a degree in archeology if the planet is shrinking day by day?
But this was years ago, and now I've discovered a solution. As I said, it was a dream I had: I was there again, at the Temple of the Sun, only it was restored. I saw the golden pillars and the flashing sun disc in their entire splendor, and I saw the Inca people weep as their wealth and livelihood were ripped away. And then it was not just them, but innumerable lost civilizations and ancient cultures that were selfishly wrecked in the march of progress.
So I knew what I had to do. I cannot tell you yet what my aim is, but the expedition continues. I am keeping a low profile at the moment, trying to avoid the authorities. But I must know what you think. I value your opinion more than anyone else. I have therefore included an address where I can pick up any correspondence you send within the next month or so. Write soon, and apologize to the rest of the gang for me; either they're worried sick, or their furious with me. Regardless, I look forward to your correspondence.
Warmest regards,
E.D.H.
---
Dear Grace,
I am disappointed in the circumstances involving your reply; not really surprised, just saddened.
When I went to retrieve your reply in Istanbul - which was thankfully present - I only barely managed to escape from the Turkish police which confronted me there, no doubt informed where I would be by you. I am writing to tell you that despite this, and despite the obvious rage in your reply, I will continue writing you, although my trust in you has been severely damaged.
Have we not been friends for years? I understand, as your reply makes very clear, that you are appalled by my actions, but I only ask that you try and understand that I know what I'm doing. I have never been more thoroughly convinced of the rightness of my path than I have now, though the task before me is seemingly insurmountable. I only hope others out there may eventually notice my exploits and make the connections I have.
I will continue my work, despite what you think. Even now, as I pen this letter, I am perusing the archeological findings of a certain university, the location of which I can not disclose for obvious reasons. Their collection of antiquities is really quite impressive, hence why I plan on making them the target of my next heist.
I know you think ill of me, but I bear you no anger. I shall write again presently, although you will surely hear of my next operation soon. I hope things are going well at home, despite the news of the Germans invading Poland. I hope this does not lead to yet another catastrophic war.
Regards,
E.D.H.
---
Dear Grace,
Greetings from Cairo! I am taking a break at the moment to enjoy the sights, sounds, and rather exotic tastes this city has to offer. The air reeks of camel dung, and the weather is as dry and hot as you might expect, but I am still growing fond of the place. I know we had talked about going to Egypt together someday, so I thought you might appreciate it.
I am doing well, I must say. Never felt more chipper in my life! I think my own infamy is beginning to get to me; with three museums and four university collections robbed, the papers are beginning to spin all sorts of wild stories about me, one even accusing me of being an agent of the Axis. Rubbish, of course, but admittedly the war is providing me with a decent bit of cover, I must guiltily admit.
By the way, I heard about the blitz bombings in London. I sincerely hope you are alright. Knowing you, you're well out of harms way by now, but I cannot help but be concerned for you. My hope is that this letter still finds you in good health and all in one piece.
Anyway: Egypt! What an amazing place! Once one gets away from the city and moves into the glorious expanses of sand and stone, you can practically hear the silence. I feel the gazes of the ancient pharaohs everywhere I go, from the pyramids at Giza to the maze of tunnels at the Valley of the Kings. It is truly a place of wonder, where ancient time is still steeped in the crevasses of modern society. I am further convinced of my own mission by gazing into the empty tombs, once filled with the treasures of this Earth intended for the afterlife, and now bearing only dust and memory. It is here I slowly start the second phase of my operation.
Let me assure you, right now, that none of my thefts are for personal gain, and none of the articles I steal end up in the hands of private collectors. I bear these items too much reverence to even consider such a thing. You may yet understand what I'm doing in time, but for now I must leave it blank; I cannot risk giving you too much information, and by the time you receive this letter, I will have already concluded my work here in Egypt and have moved on to other ventures.
Regards,
E.D.H.
---
Dear Grace,
I will have to keep this brief: had a close call in Tibet, narrowly avoiding my pursuers. Only my keen intuition and the convenient timing of a passing elephant allowed for my escape. It really was sensational; I will have to relate the full story to you later.
I feel like my enemies are figuring me out, observing my patterns. As such, my travels have become more sporadic, and I move in a zigzag across the globe as much as I can. The war, as bleak and awful as it is, has proved an unbelievable boon to me, as I can move about without being detected, especially now that America has taken arms and entered the conflict.
I am pleased you got out of London. I tracked down your new address when I was in France briefly. I hope you're still reading these letters. Knowing you, you've probably determined what I am doing, but again I cannot divulge details. At this stage, it is important I keep as many secrets as I can. All I can say is that I want you to give my regards to Nathaniel, for all those nights he encouraged me to follow him on some dalliance or another that required stealth and discretion. We never did get caught, those evenings we'd sneak onto the campus with gin tucked under our arms, and I believe I owe him for showing me the skills of espionage and infiltration that I have made use of time and again. Also, his knowledge on archaic trap design has proved invaluable. I hope he writes his thesis based on this subject.
Regards,
E.D.H.
---
Dear Grace,
Back in New York again, but only for a short time. I'm afraid the situation in Europe has become too intense for me to go abroad as much as I'd like, and as such I've been forced to change my plans.
I'm also afraid I'm in a tight spot. My funds are dwindling, though I'm surprised they have lasted this long anyway. Mother and father's college fund no longer suffice. If I don't find some manner of windfall soon, I may have to give up this whole endeavor. And I've come too far and done too much to ever return to the way things were before.
And yet, to my constant amazement, I have been able to collect my savings over the years in the times I've returned in secret to England, due to one particular bank account that was never closed: the one you and I share, the one we intended to keep our savings in until we had graduated and could set out on a proper expedition together. I thought surely you would have closed it down by now, and yet it remains. I thank you, if what I suspect about the account is true.
I also wonder; perhaps you are beginning to turn around, letting your intrigue get the best of you? You know me better than anyone, so you understand that I have some loftier purpose than what is on the surface. You've undoubtedly been keeping track of my exploits, and you realize that nothing I've stolen has yet turned up. Again, I have taken great pains to preserve the antiquities I've acquired.
Perhaps you've also heard that many ancient ruins worldwide are now sporting fresh defenses? I take some guilty pride in saying they were my doing. I have studied carefully the old mechanisms and common themes inherent in booby traps, and in each place I visit now I have added new ones. Modern sensibility has allowed for their expansion, making the old traps nigh impossible to avoid without triggering them. I'm afraid I have too much time on my hands, and hope that this only deters the curious and the greedy. Why I've done this should be obvious to you now, Grace; I should hope you've figured it out by now.
I travel onward, and will secure other channels of income. I cannot and will not compromise my safety and the safety of the artifacts by seeking aid: doing so would be the equivalent of putting a gun to my own head. I only wish you were on my side, Grace. We would make such an excellent team. And I know that, deep down, you must understand what I'm doing.
Regards,
E.D.H.
---
Dear Grace,
This is the letter I cannot send you. I write only for comfort, and that my thoughts might somehow carry to you, wherever you are now.
Everything is going wrong. What little money I had left is all gone. I'm stranded in Mexico, hiking from place to place and skulking in muddy hovels like a common beggar, hoping I am not recognized. The rainy season has begun here, and I am pelted nearly constantly by a dismal downpour when I'm not hiding in some pathetic shelter. To make matters worse, I feel as if I'm coming down with something, for my chest aches and my bones rattle with each small cough.
I am alone, and the reality of what is happening to me, of what is happening to the world, ways heavy on my mind. What kind of fool was I to take on this escapade? At the beginning I was so sure of myself and of my actions. I was confidant that my vision would persist, that everything I was doing would change the face of archeology forever, and get the message across that it was time for a chane. It even became fun, a test of my skills.
But now I realize I was a stupid young man, with more ambition and good luck to burn than common sense. What I attempted to do...what I still attempt to do...is beyond the scope of one person. Oh Grace, I wish you were here so badly!
I nearly quit in Cusco. I went back and saw Santo Domingo, saw it squatting in the grand ruin that was once a holy place to the Inca people, and I wept at the futility of it all. What can I hope to achieve? Will anyone really remember, even thank me, for what I'm doing? Can I stop it from being undone?
I'm putting them back, Grace: that's what I'm doing. I'm stealing countless artifacts from across the globe, from the museums and archives and private collections, and I'm putting them back where they were found. In Egypt, for instance, I took some of Howard Carter's findings, those cursed items rudely taken from Tutankhamun's final resting place, and I placed them in the dead pharaoh's burial chamber. I then took measures to trap the passages leading in, for there is no end to the nosiness and greed of modern folk.
And I have done this everywhere I've been, from Indonesia to India to the Middle East; in Italy, France, the very festering heart of Nazi Germany, right under the Fuhrer's nose; to darkest Africa, the Scottish highlands, and frigid Norway. I've gone to so many places in the years since I've left the university I can scarcely recount them all now. I'm a restorer; a reverse-archeologist, if you will. Is it not laughable?
I cannot blame you now for the things you wrote me, for the malice in your words, belittling me for the stupidity of my actions. There is nothing I can do to keep these places safe anymore. Soon someone will get past my traps, find what I've stored, and take them away again. I was deluded to think that that would stop people from trying to get in anyway, and I fear now that they may hurt, even kill, the people that try to breach them. Was I really so delusional to think no one would try? I never wanted to hurt anyone!
But I have started now, and I cannot stop. I told you I would make something of my life, and never have I felt my life had more meaning then it has in these last few years. I am no longer confined to books and tests, and can put my talents to some use. Despite the crushing wait of my current circumstances, I am driven by my vision of restoring glory to these lost cultures.
I am so weary, Grace; so weary. It was foolish of me to think you would understand, but you are too indoctrinated in the ways of archeology. There is no true reverence to the ancient sites discovered if they are simply to be plundered for study. I am not even certain you continued to read my letters. Perhaps I wanted you to see my bravado, to be impressed by a man who was motivated and not just another spoiled rich student, riding on Mummy and Daddy's generosity. I wanted you to see me as more than I was.
I am alone, Grace, and I miss you now more than ever. But I have dug my own trench, and must hold it steady.
With warmest regards,
E.D.H.
---
Dear Grace,
Once, in a fit of loneliness and self-doubt, I penned you a letter I knew I could not send. Now I fear you must know the whole truth. I have enclosed it with this one, and regardless which you read first, it should give you a better picture of my current circumstance.
I am dying. The local people tell me I have contacted some jungle disease of which there is no cure, the nature of which being undocumented by science, as I understand. The best they can offer is to slow down the spread of infection with herbal medicines, but I feel the symptoms build a little every day. At present, I cannot actively travel, and it takes effort even to hold the pen with which I write these words.
I realize that, from the beginning, I was risking everything. But now that I face death, I am terrified. I am not ready to die, and despite the growing pain I am too much of a coward to end my own life and prevent the suffering. I cling on in the hope that I may speak with you again.
Included with this letter is a map to my exact location and a final request: I want you and you alone to come see me. I ask this of you as an old friend, and I once again put my trust in you. Please do this one last thing for me, before it all ends.
I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused you. Please make haste. There's something I need to give you.
E.D.H.
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Professor Campbell,
I arrived safely in Mexico, and I found Edward. He had been staying in a small village in the Amazon, and although my feelings for him were mixed, I was deeply saddened to see him in his condition. I attempted to get him to a doctor, but his illness was too deeply set and there was not a proper physician within a hundred miles. And even so, he refused to be taken. I was able to spend some time with him before he finally faded. He was delirious and almost unintelligible, but informed me of all the necessary details.
I'm sending a large parcel of his stolen goods to you, and hope you'll make sure the items contained are returned to their proper collections. He seemed to make peace with his decision to give them back, and revealed their location to me. He moved the items around under a series of assumed names and kept them in various locations; this represents the bulk of the artifacts he stole. The locations of the rest have been included with this letter.
Edward also revealed to me the location of an untouched ruin in the Amazon he found, a site dating back, from my calculations, to Mayan civilization. I have visited the place; what appears to be a huge hill covered in foliage hides a surprisingly well-preserved series of chambers. He wanted me to take the credit for its discovery, but I cannot. He had a hand-drawn map on his person detailing its location, and I would like it noted that the ruin was his discovery.
I am making arrangements for his body to be brought back to England, and shall be here a little longer surveying the new site. I ask that you not bring up the letters he sent me should there be a question of evidence; at this time, I do not feel like revealing their contents to the public. I shall be reading through them again myself while I am here.
I want to apologize for any smeared ink and watermarks on this page: it's the rainy season here.
Sincerely,
Grace