The Seventh Scroll - Smith Wilbur - Страница 92

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"This is Sir Nicholas Quenton-Harper calling from the UK. Is Mr Geoffrey

Tennant, your military attache, available, please  Geoffrey came on the

line almost immediately. "My dear boy. So you made it all the way home.

Lucky you."

"Just thought I would set your mind at rest. Knew you would be losing

sleep."

"How is the charming Dr Al Simma?"

"She sends her love."

"I wish I could believe you." Geoffrey sighed dramatically.

"Big favour, Geoff. Do you know a Colonel Maryam Kidane at the Ministry

of Defence?"

"First-rate chap," Geoffrey affirmed immediately. "Know him well. Played

tennis with him last Saturday, actually.

Demon backhand."

"Please ask him to contact me urgently." He gave Geoffrey the telephone

number of the flat in York. "Tell him it's in connection with a rare

breed of Ethiopian swallow for the museum collection."

(up to your shenanigans again, Nicky. Not enough that you get slung out

of Ethiopia on your ear. Now you are trading in rare birds. Probably

CITES Schedule One.

Endangered species.)

"Will you do it for me, Geoff?"

"Of course. Serve to Lead, old boy. Always the sucker."

"I owe you one."

"More than one. Half a dozen, more like it." He had less success with

his next call. International Enquiries gave him a number in Matta. On

his first attempt he received an encouraging ri riging tone.

me," he pleaded in a whisper, but on

"Pick it up, Jan the sixth ring an answering machine cut in.

"You have reached the head office of Africair Services.

There is nobody available to take your call at the moment.

Please leave your name and number and a short message after the tone. We

will get back to you as soon as possible.

Thank you."Jannie Badenhorst's rich South African accent was

unmistakable.

"Jannie. This is Nicholas Quenton-Harper. Is that broken-down old Herc

of yours still airworthy? This job should be a lark. What's more, the

money is good. Call me at the flat in the UK. No hurry. Yesterday, or

the' day before, will do just fine."

Royan rang the doorbell a minute after he finished the last call, and he

ran down the stairs.

"Your timing is impeccable," he told her as she came in with the end of

her nose pink with cold, shaking the raindrops off the coat he had lent

her. "Did you get the films developed?"

She pulled the yellow packet out of the coat pocket and brandished it

triumphantly.

"You are a master photographer," she told him. "They have turned out

perfectly. I can read every character on the stele with the naked eye.

We are back in Taita's game again."

They spread the glossy photographs across his desktop and gloated over

them.

"You have had duplicates made? A set for each of us.

Excellent," Nicholas approved. "The negatives will go into the safe

deposit box at my bank. We won't take a chance on losing them the second

time around."

Using his large magnifying glass, Royan studied each of the prints in

turn, and she picked out the clearest shot of each of the four sides of

the stele.

"These will be our working copies. I don't think we are really going to

miss the rubbings that we lifted from the stone. These should suffice."

She read aloud a snippet from one of the blocks of hieroglyphics. "'The

cobra uncoils and lifts his jewelled hood. The stars of morning shine

within his eyes. Three times his black and slippery tongue kisses the

air."' She was flushed with excitement. "I wonder what Taita is telling

us with that verse. Oh, Nicky, it's so exciting to be unravelling the

mysteries again!'

"Leave it alone now he ordered sternly. "I know you.

Once you start, we'll be here all night. Let's get the Range Rover

packed up. It's a long, hard haul up to York, and there is an AA warning

of black ice on the motorway. A bit of a change from the weather in the

Abbay gorge."

She straightened up and shuffled the prints into a neat pile. "You are

right. Sometimes I do tend to get carried away." She stood up. "Before

we go, may I make a phone call home?"

"By home, I take it that you mean Cairo?"

"Sorry. Yes, to Cairo. Duraid's farnily7-'

"Please! No need to explain. There is the phone. Help yourself I'll be

waiting downstairs in the kitchen when you are finished. We both need a

cup of tea before we get going."

She came down into the kitchen half an hour later looking guilty, and

told him directly, "I am afraid that I am going to be a nuisance again.

I have a confession to make."

"Spit it out, he invited.

"I have to go back home - to Cairo," she said, and he looked at her

startled. "Just for a few days," she qualified hurriedly. "I was

speaking to Duraid's brother. There are some of Duraid's affairs that I

have to see to."

I don't like you going back there on your own," he shook his head,

'after your last experiences."

"If our theory is correct, and Nahoot Guddabi was the danger, then he is

in Ethiopia now. I should be quite safe."

"Still, I don't like it. You are the key to Taita's game."

"Thank you kindly, Sir" she said with mock outrage. "Is that the only

reason you don't want me bumped off?"

if forced into a corner, I may admit that I have also wn rather partial

to having you around."

I'll be back before you know I've even gone. Besides which, you will

have plenty to keep you busy while I am away."

"I don't suppose that I can stop you," he grumbled.

When do you plan to leave?"

There's a flight at eight this evening."

(A bit sudden. I mean, we have only just arrived." He made one last

feeble protest, then capitulated. "I will run you out to the airport."

"No, Nicky. Heathrow is out of your way. I can catch the train."

"I insist."

On a Monday evening the traffic was reasonably light and, once they had

cleared the main built-up area, they made good time. The journey was

further lightened by their animated discussion as he related the

contents of the phone calls he had made in her absence.

"Through Maryam Kidane, I hope to be in contact with Mek Nimmur again

pretty soon. Mek is the kingpin of the whole plan Without him we cant

even make the first move on Taita's bao board."

He dropped her off at the departures entrance at Heathrow. "Phone me

tomorrow morning from Cairo to let me know you are all right, and when

you are coming back.

I'll be at the flat."

"Reversed charges," she warned him as she offered him her cheek to kiss.

Then she slid across the seat and slammed the door behind her.

He watched her waiflike figure in the rear-view mirror as he pulled

away, and he was filled with melancholy and a sense of loss. Then quite

suddenly he was aware of a new sensation of disquiet. His early-warning

bells were jangling. Something unpleasant was afoot. Something ing nasty

was about to happen when she reached Egypt.

Another dangerous beast had escaped from " its cage and was prowling the

darkness waiting its opportunity to pounce, but it was still too early

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