laying stone over it and covering it with a mosaic.
He set down his lamp on the floor, then began a diligent survey of the walls, tapping them with the base of his flashlight, listening to the echo, hoping to hear a slightly higher pitch that might indicate a cavity behind. He worked from base to apex, then shuffled half a meter to his left and began again. Nothing. He checked the floors and ceilings, then the staircase. Still nothing. He bit his teeth in frustration. It had made such good sense. Yet it seemed he’d been wrong.
NICOLAS HAD HAD AS MUCH OF BEING POLITE as he could take. He grabbed Ibrahim by the arm and dragged him to one side. “Perhaps we could get started,” he said tightly. “I need to get back to Thessalonike tonight.”
“Of course. Yes. But there’s just one more person I’d like you to meet.”
“Who?” sighed Nicolas.
“Mohammed el-Dahab,” said Ibrahim, pointing to a mountain of a man. “He’s site manager for the construction company.”
“And then we can start?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” They walked across. “Salaam alekum,” said Nicolas curtly.
“Wa alekum es salaam,” replied Mohammed. “And thank you. Thank you.”
Nicolas frowned. “What for?”
“The sick girl I told you about,” beamed Ibrahim. “She’s Mohammed’s daughter.”
Nicolas looked back and forth in surprise between the two men. “You mean there really is a sick girl?”
“Of course,” frowned Ibrahim. “What did you think?”
“Forgive me,” laughed Nicolas. “I’ve been dealing too much with your compatriots in Cairo. I assumed baksheesh.”
“No,” said Mohammed emphatically. “This money makes all the difference to us. Your money gives my daughter a chance. We’ll hear our results tonight. But whatever the outcome, my family is forever in your debt.”
“It was nothing,” said Nicolas. “Really.” He turned back to Ibrahim, glanced at his watch. “Now, really, we must get started,” he said.
KNOX SAT IN THE DARKNESS with his back against one of the support walls, biting the knuckle of his thumb in frustration. It just made too much sense for this place to be connected to the lower chamber. Yet he’d checked every square inch of the chamber’s exterior he could get at, everything except for those areas blocked by the support walls.
He frowned. There had to be at least two feet of limestone above his head, and yet there were support walls. He pushed himself up onto his knees, placed his palms flat against one of them, and rested his cheek against it, as though to listen to its secrets. Why on earth would anyone have bothered? This chamber was excavated out of solid rock. The ceiling didn’t need props. There were dozens of chambers in this necropolis, and dozens of necropolises in Alexandria. In none of them had Knox ever seen support walls like this. So maybe they weren’t support walls at all. Maybe they had another purpose. Maybe they were hiding something.
He walked up and down, inspecting them closely. They were each made up of six columns of six blocks. Each block was a little more than a foot high and wide, and about three feet long, stacked sideways, with the old mortar between them crumbled into dust. He went to where the support wall abutted the exterior wall, and pushed hard against the top block. It grated but slowly gave, revealing a glimpse of solid limestone behind. He left it for the time being and went to the second support wall. This time, when he pushed back the top block, he exposed the edge of a hole in the exterior wall. He tried to push the top two blocks back together, but they were too heavy for him, so he climbed up between the walls like a climber in a rock chimney, then pushed the blocks back with his feet until they were pinned precariously between the remaining blocks beneath and the ceiling above. He dropped down again and went to inspect what he had revealed. A tight hole into a compact space the size of a broom closet, another wall at its far end. He filled his pockets with everything he might need, then squeezed through headfirst, falling hard on his hands and landing with a grunt.
He turned on the flashlight, brushed off his palms, and went to inspect the far wall. It was built of bricks rather than blocks, small enough for one person to manage with relative ease. Knox felt his breath coming faster as he spread his palm out on it. Whatever lay on the other side had to be connected with the