The Alexander Cipher Page 0,22
a few more documents. Maps and photographs of reef systems, as best he could make out. He took the canvas bag from the wardrobe and packed all Knox’s documents inside. Then he packed up Knox’s laptop, too, and his work-related CDs and floppy disks. In the top drawer of Knox’s desk, he found photocopies of his passport and driver’s license, presumably in case he lost the originals, and a strip of color passport-size photographs, no doubt for one of the myriad documents foreigners needed to work in Sinai. He scooped these up and tucked them away in his jacket pocket. Then he picked up the canvas bag and laptop to take away with him. The concierge gave a little whimper. “Yes?” asked Nessim. “Is something the matter?”
“No,” said the concierge.
“Good. A word of advice. I’d clear the rest of his stuff out if I were you. I very much doubt your friend will be coming back anytime soon.”
“No?”
“No.” He handed him one of his business cards. “But call me if he does.”
Chapter Five
THE MOSQUITOES were in a malevolent mood that evening. Gaille had buttoned her white chemise tight around her throat and wrists, tucked her long trousers into her socks, then sprayed all her remaining exposed skin to a shine with repellent; yet they still somehow found a way to feed off her and then boast of it afterward with that infuriating trumpeting of theirs, retreating to the high hotel ceiling well out of range of reprisal even when she stood on a chair. Whatever had happened to the notion of sisterhood? There it was again, that gloating buzz behind her ear. She slapped at her neck, but only as a gesture to punish herself for being so easily caught. The damage was done. The side of her right hand began to pulse and redden. Her mouse hand was an easy target as she typed up these damned excavation notes every night. She paused momentarily and glanced at her window. Just one night off wouldn’t hurt. A cold beer and a little conversation. But if Elena caught her in the bar . . .
Her door opened without warning, and Elena herself strode in as though she owned the place. She had no regard for anyone else’s privacy, but heaven help you if you dared so much as knock on her door without first giving two weeks’ written notice! “Yes?” asked Gaille.
“I’ve just had a phone call,” said Elena. She squinted belligerently at Gaille, as though she found herself at a disadvantage and expected Gaille to make the most of it. “Ibrahim Beyumi. You know him? He’s head of the Supreme Council in Alexandria. Apparently he’s found a necropolis. He thinks part of it may be Macedonian. He wants me to check it out with him. He also said he was putting together a team for possible excavation, and asked if I could provide specialist support. I had to remind him I had my own excavation to run. Still, I mentioned you were available.”
Gaille frowned. “He needs support with languages?”
“It’s an emergency excavation,” snorted Elena. “The job is to record, remove, process, and store. Translation will come later.”
“Then… ?”
“He needs a photographer, Gaille.”
“Oh!” Gaille felt bewildered. “But I’m not a photographer.”
“You’ve got a camera, haven’t you? You’ve been taking pictures for us, haven’t you? Are you telling me they’re no good?”
“I only took them because you asked me to—”
“So it’s my fault, now, is it?”
Gaille asked plaintively, “What about Maria?”
“And who will we be left with? Are you claiming to be as good a photographer as she is?”
“Of course not.” The only reason she had brought her camera at all was to photograph badly faded ancient ostraca, so that she could use her laptop’s image software to make the writing clearer. “I just said I’m not a—”
“And Maria doesn’t speak Arabic or English,” pointed out Elena. “She’d be useless to Ibrahim, and all on her own. Is that what you want?”
“No. All I’m saying is—”
“All you’re saying is!” mocked Elena spitefully, imitating her voice.
“Is this about what happened earlier?” asked Gaille. “I told you, I didn’t see anything down there.”
Elena shook her head. “This has nothing to do with that. It’s very simple. The head of the Supreme Council in Alexandria has asked for your help. Do you really want me to tell him you refused?”
“No,” replied Gaille miserably. “Of course not.”
Elena nodded. “We’re doing an initial survey first thing tomorrow morning. Make sure you’re packed and ready to leave at