“Like who, the police? There’s been no crime here.”

“Maybe not, but this isn’t right.”

Dylan replaced the iron lid. “We don’t even know what this is. It could be valuable. A work of art, maybe even a relic. I’ll do some online research later.” Dylan lifted the casket with a grunt.

“Where are you taking it?”

“Downstairs. I’m going to towel it off so I can get some clear pictures of those engravings. Somebody has to know what they mean.”

Will stood listening to the clunks and puttering noises coming from the basement. His brother then began to whistle some cheery, improvised tune.

*

For supper Will prepared them pork chops and steamed greens. They ate at the tiny kitchen table, for Will was unable to bear eating where the casket had been.

The only soundtrack to their meal was the sound of their own chewing. Dylan scarcely lifted his gaze from his phone, which sat next to his plate. He scrolled through photo after photo of the infant effigy, of each incised character upon the iron coffin.

“How many pictures of that thing did you take?” Will finally asked, uncapping a fresh beer. He did not take his eyes off his brother as he drank.

Dylan merely shrugged.

“Why don’t you put that thing away so we can talk about what’s really going on?”

The wooden chair creaked as Dylan leaned back. “What’s there to say? Julie left. End of story.”

“There’s a whole lot to say,” replied Will. “For starters, why don’t you tell me how it reached this point? As far as I knew, you and Julie had the perfect marriage. Not to mention a free house with no mortgage to carry.” Will could hear the edge creeping into his voice but did not care. “No kids to take your money or your time, and then two days ago I read this panicky social media post from you telling all your friends that she’s gone. When I phoned, you sounded like a shattered man. You were barely coherent. I tell you I’m coming home to see you, and now you expect me to believe that after just one day you’re fine?”

“I’m getting there.”

“Well that’s something, I suppose.” Will rubbed his chin, sighed. “Can you tell me what happened at least? I mean, not every detail, just what led to Julie walking out?”

Dylan coughed into his fist. “Two days ago, she left me that letter telling me that we’ve drifted apart,” he explained. “She said she didn’t love me anymore, so I called her cell and left a voicemail saying that if that was true I want her to stay away for good. End of story.” Coolly, he then took up his phone. “So it looks like those engravings are a mix of all sorts of different languages; Coptic, Germanic runes, ancient Greek.”