The Pyramid of Khafre

It's the year 1957. A man by the name of Davon Reinhardt is working for a detective agency on the south side of Manhattan. Davon was sitting in his office waiting on a case.

"Damn," he cursed, frustrated with boredom. "Reinhardt Detective Agency sure ain't what it used to be." He leaned back in his chair and faced the blinds. They were open just enough to let light through, and give him a peek at the streets and sidewalks below his second story office. He can see a woman walking by. She was wearing a green felted hat, with a pink flower on it. Her dark brown hair bouncing under it sparking a memory.

Davon began to reminisce of the old days, when private dicks made a good living in the city. He remembered a dame. Her pensive green eyes, and a smile that could melt the heart of the most hardened man in the world. Despite her obvious beauty, she was dressed down, as if she were a housewife. Her felted hat sat atop raven black hair curled slightly at shoulder length. Her clothing was well worn, but neat. She was familiar to him, but couldn’t pinpoint how.

She didn't want much, just for him to look into a strange black notebook that had appeared in her mailbox. There was no return address, but it was stamped by multiple countries, indicating it had traveled quite a distance.

Upon surrendering the book, the woman left in a hurry. She had refused to leave contact information, and only gave a first name, Scarlet. If that was even her real name.

Davon had tried to find the woman throughout the years with no luck. He kept the notebook on the off chance that someday the woman would return for it.

Curious of it's contents Davon opened the black book. Upon it's pages appeared to be the scribblings of a mad man. The information followed no obvious patterns, and seemed like it was full of conspiracy theories.

Strangely, the book ended abruptly, as if mid sentence. It was about ten pages in that there was a hand drawn photo of one of the pyramids at Giza.

He combed his finger through his graying, brown hair while exhaling a small sigh.

"Ya know what," he said himself. "I ain't got nothing better to do." He spun in his chair to face back to his desk. Opening one of his side drawers he revealed the little black book. There were no defining features. Just a black notebook with unlined paper of a medium weight. "It’s been a long time." He said smiling at the book as he withdrew it from the drawer.

He opened the little black book and began thumbing through the pages. The ramblings and writings were still just as bizarre as they had been twenty years ago. He made it to the final page where the graphite drawing laid. It's lead transferred over onto the adjacent page.

As he looked at the empty page with the shadow of the drawing he noticed something. There had been writing on the page that was made with pressure that the dusty lead revealed.

Hastily, Davon reached for a pencil. He began running the pencil against the page lightly, revealing the words on the page.

It read: If you are reading this, Congratulations. You are the proud recipient of a once in a lifetime chance.

If you can decode my writings you will find coordinates to a wealth of cash I have hidden.

I will give you a hint:

Zeta, Epsilon, and Delta mirror the points of a necropolis.

"Zeta, Epsilon, and Delta?" He thought aloud, confused. He withdrew a slip of paper and started scribbling the Greek symbols for each. Arranging them in different ways to try and create an arrow.

With no luck, he leaned back again. Staring at the book pondering, his finger tapping in thought. It's gotta be something else. Something more complex, yet hidden in plain view. He thought to himself, That tends to be how these cryptic messages work.

He reached and picked the book up from his desk. Holding it open in one hand. He examined the pages again, Perhaps there is more hidden in these pages.

Flipping through its contents, Davon noted that a majority of the information was about monuments. Particularly those classified as Wonders of the World.

It dawned on him, and the drawing. "Egypt." He said allowed closing the book and standing. He donned his coat, pocketing his book before rushing out of the office, down the sidewalk, and to the local library a few blocks away. In his experience, no one would put that much detail into something if it were unimportant.

Immediately Davon rushed to the history section. He grabbed books about Egypt, and set them on a table. He began to comb through them before finding the names of the stars on Orion's Belt. Zeta, Epsilon, and Delta. "They line up with the Great Pyramids! I'll be damned."

He flipped through more pages trying to find a map of the area around the Giza plateau. There was no luck on his mission so he opted for an atlas. Still, no luck. He searched for map points that would line up with either end of the row of pyramids. There were no points of interest.

Davon reached for the little black book in his pocket, There must be something I'm overlooking. He examined the hand drawn image of the pyramid in the book. It was quite detailed. The realization hit him. This pyramid was one of the three that made up the great Wonder.

He flipped one of the books back open. Finding a photograph of the pyramid in question. He made a comparison. Nothing seemed special or out of the ordinary. That was until, upon closer inspection, Davon noticed the addition of what appeared to be a small opening.

Feverishly Davon grasped a pencil rubbing it across the bottom of the page for clues. I keep striking out. Maybe if I… he flipped the page to a new blank page and began doing the same. There was nothing. He flipped to the next page and began the same routine. Nothing.

Over, and over again Davon covered pages until at about the midpoint of the book there was something written.

"Good job. Your persistence has paid off.

As I'm sure, you've solved my riddle, and are looking for more clues.

You'll have to travel to that place for riches to behold."

Davon scoffed, "Travel to Giza?" Then he sat and pondered the idea. He was getting up in age, almost ready to retire. Business was going downhill fast. "What do I have to lose?"

After speaking with a travel agency and booking his flight. Davon sat restless in the airport terminal. What if this is just a ruse? What if I get all the way there and it's for nothing?

Shaking the feeling, Davon boarded the plane when his gate was called and sat quietly and calmly on his flight.

He had made it to Giza, and hopped on the first tour bus that would bring him to the pyramids.

It was getting close to dusk as he arrived. Davon was in awe of the stone structures jutting from the golden landscape. They were massive and powerful. Other tourists got off the bus and started taking photographs. Davon, however, took this opportunity to split from the tour group and march towards the middle of the three colossal wonders.

A close eye was kept on those guarding the perimeters of the pyramid. He made his way close as the guards changed position. Once he was clear of the guards he climbed one of the stone blocks, hiding out of view.. He then waited for nightfall.

Once he had the cover of darkness Davon made his move. Circling towards where the entrance had been drawn in the mysterious little black book. He came upon where the drawing had indicated the opening should be. He was disappointed when he discovered there was nothing to be found aside from a massive stone block.

Davon leaned his back on the stone, defeated. As he let his body slide down to go into a sitting position he felt something catch on his button down shirt.

Reaching under his arm, in which he was snagged, was a stone. It's shape jutting out, but not seeming out of the ordinary to the naked eye. A feeling washed over him, like the stone was calling to him. Davon pulled down hard on the stone as if to tear it from its place. The wall cracked. Davon hurriedly, yet quietly, began removing bits of stone and wall.

Is this it? Have I found the entrance? Davon made a hole just big enough for himself to squeeze through. He wriggled, and pushed until he emerged on the other side.

The chamber was small. Not quite tall enough for him to stand up comfortably. A little bit of moonlight that was peering through the hole he had created was just enough light to expose a duffle bag against the far wall.

Davon made his way hunched over. He knelt in front of it and gave it a good pat to dust it off. He took the zipper between his index and thumb. His heart was racing. This was it, the answer to what the little black book was hiding for the last twenty years.

Unzipping the bag he revealed stacks of bills. They were crisp and bundled together. Atop the stacks of cash was a letter that read:

Detective Davon Reinhardt,

If you're reading this that means you found it.

You took such good care of my family when my little brother went missing in 1925. I was just a teenager at the time. Even though you never found my brother. I will forever appreciate the care you put into looking for him.

My brother showed up out of the blue one day. A year ago, in 1933. He had left to make something of himself. My brother wanted to be able to give back to my parents for raising him and caring for him. He traveled the globe under a different identity, and became an archeologist.

Private detectives work until they die. Mr. Reinhardt, you deserve so much more. This is why my family decided to give you $20,000. Hopefully you can manage to use it as retirement. It's mostly from my brother. Once he heard how hard you had searched, and the love and care you showed, he wanted to test your investigative skills.

You're a great detective, Mr. Reinhardt. Maybe even the best.

Enjoy your life,

Scarlet