Free The Murder of King Tut by James Patterson, Martin Dugard

around an area of high trauma. This is known as a chronic
     subdural hematoma. However, the CT scan showed no evidence of a blow to the head. Maybe the Egyptian investigating committee
     was spending too much time trying to justify the broken-leg theory and not enough on the wound at the base of Tut’s skull.
    The earlier X-rays were the product of R. G. Harrison, a British anatomist who had done extensive work on Tut back in the
     1960s and 1970s.
    Not only had Harrison x-rayed the skeleton, but he had taken the rather extreme measure of
separating the skull
from the other bones and x-raying it individually. Based on his findings, Harrison suspected foul play.
    This made sense to me. A subdural hematoma could develop if somebody whacked you very hard on the skull and you survived the
     blow, only to die some weeks later. In the meantime, the bruise from the blow would become a blood clot, and that blood clot—the
     chronic subdural hematoma—would calcify.
    All of which made me wonder why anyone would say that Tut had died from a leg fracture.
    A contrarian position seemed more likely, and that got me excited. Based on the results of the 2005 report, combined with
     the 1969 and 1978 X-rays, it appeared that Tut’s leg had not been broken during his lifetime, and that he had suffered a blunt
     force trauma to the back of the skull.
    So if Tut had been murdered, possibly clubbed to death, who did it?

Chapter 30
Valley of the Kings
    1907
    OH, HOW THE MIGHTY had fallen!
    Howard Carter stood outside the Winter Palace Hotel with a clutch of watercolors under one arm. His jacket was threadbare,
     with unsightly patches at the sleeves. The shoes on his feet weren’t much better, the leather unpolished and worn.
    He set up his easel near the great marble steps leading up to the hotel lobby, praying that some fool tourist might take a
     shine to one of his paintings. The sale would net him much-needed money for whiskey and cigarettes, and perhaps even a civilized
     lunch inside the hotel.
    Howard Carter may have become a street bum, but he still had standards.
    His problems had begun when he was transferred away from the valley by the Antiquities Service. His new posting, near Cairo,
     meant that Davis had to find a new executive Egyptologist. Even worse, the ancient tombs at Saqqara proved to be an administrative
     nightmare for Carter.
    When he had allowed his Egyptian tomb guards—quite justifiably—to use force against a drunken mob of French tourists, it became
     an international incident. After nine months of increasing shame and disgrace, Carter had been forced to resign.
    Truth be told, he desperately wanted to get back to the valley. He still hoped to find Hatshepsut’s mummy—and maybe even the
     ever-elusive virgin tomb.
    That tomb, if recent events in the valley were any indication, might belong to a long-forgotten pharaoh named Tutankhamen.
     King Tut had somehow slipped through the cracks of history—or been purposefully edited from it.
    His name was
nowhere
to be found among the many shrines and temples where the succession of pharaohs had been chiseled in stone. In 1837, British
     Egyptologist Sir John Gardner Wilkinson had noticed the name on a statue. But other than that single mention, Tutankhamen
     was virtually
     unknown.
    Ironically, it was the American Theodore Davis—the man Carter had originally persuaded to finance a valley concession—who
     had stumbled upon interesting new evidence about Tutankhamen.

Chapter 31
Valley of the Kings
    1907
    THE INCREDIBLE STORY, as Carter heard it, began with Theodore Davis and his new chief executive Egyptologist, Edward Ayrton,
     taking a midday break from the stifling heat.
    The valley, as always, was crowded with European tourists eager to see the ancient tombs. Davis was the sort of man who enjoyed
     being fawned over, but now he ignored the gawking stares that seemed to follow him everywhere.
    Davis could hear the distant bray of donkeys from the corral.