The Alexander Cipher Page 0,52
glanced at Gaille again, puzzled by something. “This is one hell of a tomb for a shield bearer, don’t you think? I mean, a forecourt, an antechamber, and a main chamber. Not to mention Ionic columns, a sculpted facade, bronze doors, and all these paintings. It must have cost an incredible amount of money.”
“Alexander paid well.”
“Not that well. Besides, this is how Macedonian kings were buried. It feels, I don’t know, presumptuous, doesn’t it?”
Gaille nodded. “They’re raising the plinth tomorrow afternoon. Maybe that’ll give us some answers. You’re going to be there, aren’t you?”
“I doubt it, I’m afraid.”
“But you must come,” she said earnestly. “We wouldn’t have discovered it without you.”
“Even so.”
“I don’t understand,” she complained. “What’s going on?”
There was pain in her eyes, as well as confusion. Knox knew he couldn’t prevaricate any longer. He pulled a face to let her know he had a difficult subject to broach, then stood up straight, putting distance between them. “You know how I said earlier there was something I needed to tell you?”
“It’s that damned Knox, isn’t it,” scowled Gaille. “He’s your best bloody friend or something.”
“Not exactly.”
“Let’s not let him come between us,” she begged. “I was just shooting my mouth off last night. Honestly. He means nothing to me. I’ve never even met the man.”
Knox looked steadfastly into her eyes, until realization began to dawn. Then he nodded. “Yes, you have,” he told her.
Chapter Fourteen
IT TOOK GAILLE a moment to assimilate fully what Knox was saying. Then her expression went cold. “Get out,” she said.
“Please,” he begged. “Just let me—”
“Get out. Get out now.”
“Look. I know how you must feel, but—”
She went to her door and threw it open. “Out!” she said.
“Gaille,” he pleaded. “Just let me explain.”
“You had your chance. You sent me that letter, remember.”
“It wasn’t what you think. Please just let me—”
But the concierge had overheard the commotion. Now he arrived outside Gaille’s room, grabbed Knox’s arm, and dragged him out. “You leave,” he said. “I call police.” Knox tried to shake him off, but he had surprisingly strong fingers, which he dug vengefully into Knox’s flesh, giving him no choice but to go with him or start a fight. They reached the lobby. The concierge bundled him into the elevator, punched the button for the ground floor, then slammed the mesh door closed. “No come back,” he warned, wagging his finger.
The elevator juddered downward. Knox was still in a daze when he stepped out into the ground-floor lobby and down the front steps. The look of anger on Gaille’s face had not only shocked him, it had made him realize just how hard he was falling for her. He turned right and right again, heading down the alley at the rear of her hotel, converted, like so many alleys in Alexandria, into an improvised parking lot, so that he had to wend his way between tightly packed cars.
He remembered, suddenly, the letter he’d sent her, all the deceits he’d filled it with. His face burned hot; he stopped dead in the alley so abruptly that a man walking behind him barged into his back. Knox held up his hand in apology, started to say sorry, but then he caught a whiff of something chemical, and suddenly a damp, burning cloth was clamped over his nose and mouth, and the darkness began closing in. Too late, he realized that he’d allowed himself to stop worrying about Sinai, about Hassan. He tried to fight, to pull away, but the chloroform was already in his system, and he collapsed tamely into the arms of his assailant.
IT WAS BARELY ELEVEN THIRTY when Augustin brought Elena back to the Cecil Hotel. He had invited her on to a nightclub; she pleaded weight of work. He insisted on escorting her into the lobby all the same. “There’s no need to come up,” she said drily when they reached the elevators. “I’m sure I’ll be safe from here.”
“I see you to your room,” he announced gallantly. “I would never forgive myself if anything happened.”
She sighed and shook her head but didn’t make a point of it. There was a mirror in the elevator. They each checked themselves out in it and then each other, their eyes meeting in the glass, smiling at their own vanity. She had to admit that they made a striking pair. He walked her right to her door. “Thank you,” she said, shaking his hand. “I had fun.”
“I’m glad.”
Elena took her key from her purse. “I’ll see you