Free The Orpheus Trail by Maureen Duffy Page A

a daughter, Night or wisdom, whom he took to himself. And the Greeks know him as Dionysus or Eros.’
    If this is accepted as at least plausible then it will be immediately clear that the Orphic seems to owe much to the earlier Iranian theogony, a conclusion which gains considerable strength when we consider the occupation of Thrace by the Persians and that Hesiod himself, through his father, came from Lydia (another satrap of the Persian Empire), and whose own creation myth has many similar elements.
     
    Paper delivered to the Symposium on The Influence of Middle Eastern and Classical Beliefs on Later Monotheisms
     
    Universidad de Huelva, June 2003

 

    But it was the chairman who rang me first. The press had continued their feeding frenzy. Normally we don’t take all the national papers at the museum. There’s no need. Today I sent Phoebe out to pick up the lot as soon as I opened my own daily rag.
    ‘Have you seen the papers, Kish?’ The chairman believed in going straight to the point. ‘I’ve had local councillors on to me already, suggesting it’s our fault for wasting residents’ money on dodgy modern art.’
    As he spoke I was running through successive headlines from the pile in front of me. As usual those in red were the most hysterical in their prurient, self-righteous voyeurism. I saw where our local broadcasters had picked up their ideas. It was a chance that wasn’t to be missed to make political capital out of a grisly event and knock the council’s cultural budget at the same time. ‘It’s the effect on the town,’ he went on, ‘that has to be my concern. No one will want to come here.’
    ‘I think you might find just the opposite.’
    ‘A lot of ghouls. No, we want this cleared up as soon as possible We’ve got just over three months before the start of the season. Have you spoken to the police yet? What do they think?’
    ‘I was just about to ring them,’ I lied, ‘but you got me first.’
    ‘I’ll get off the line then. Keep me up to speed, Alex.’
    Who should I ring? I looked up our usual liaison officer and dialled the number. ‘Inspector Hobbs? It’s Alex Kish from the museum. I thought I should make contact, or rather the chairman thinks so. I hope that isn’t a nuisance.’ I knew the notion of local political interest would do the trick.
    ‘We’d like you to come in, sir, and discuss it with us. There seem to be some factors that might be more in your field than ours. Incidentally we’ve called in the Met. Had to. We think this goes much fartherthan our patch. Certainly the victims weren’t from round here. That much we know.’
    ‘Of course. I’ll come whenever you say. Our chairman is worried about the town’s image. He’s anxious the thing should be out of the public mind by Easter.’
    I heard the inspector give a short satirical laugh. ‘He’ll be lucky. So will we.’
    The next call was Jack. ‘What took you so long?’ I said, determined to seize the initiative.
    ‘You’ve been engaged for hours.’
    ‘I know: the chairman, the police. You’re lucky to have got in now. So what’s your theory, Jack?’
    ‘Hang on. What about: “Sorry, Jack, you were right”?’
    ‘Sorry, Jack, you were right. So? I have to go and talk to the police. The locals have called in the Met, probably Interpol, or whatever it’s called these days, by now. Anything you can suggest I can feed through if…’
    ‘If you don’t think it’s too nutty?’
    ‘We don’t want to lose their confidence. So what can you tell me?’
    ‘I’ve seen a reference to a Persian lord who was suspended in a crystal coffin so that the sun’s rays would light him up.’
    ‘Okay. Let’s leave that out for the moment. This is something even the police don’t know yet.’ I quickly filled him in about the gold leaf, seeming to be from our amulet, round the boy’s neck. ‘From what you told me before that could be inscribed with instructions on how to behave after