‘Not when she knows him as well as I know you.’ A sly smile. ‘This wouldn’t be a peace offering, would it?’
‘Pfft, don’t be daft. What’ve I got to apologise for? I’m right.’
Her green eyes narrowed, the smile fading. ‘Don’t even start.’ A discussion the previous night about the week’s main news story had somehow degenerated into a full-blown argument, and the atmosphere had still been frosty even over breakfast. A New Yorker named Jerry Rosenthal was on trial for having killed the man accused of raping his daughter after the case against him collapsed. To Nina it had been an open-and-shut case of revenge-driven vigilantism, but Eddie had very different opinions.
Which he still held. ‘What, so you’re saying that if it had been your daughter, you’d be happy to let the guy walk the streets because of some forensics cock-up? We know he did it, he just got away with it on a technicality.’
‘We don’t know he did it,’ she said irritably. ‘You weren’t there – you didn’t see what happened.’
‘Neither did you.’
‘Which is why we have courts to decide whether a person’s guilty or not. And why we have courts to decide on the sentence – rather than some guy appointing himself judge, jury and executioner. That’s not justice.’
‘Sounds like it to me. You know somebody’s done something bad and thinks they’ve got away with it? Boom. Kill the fucker.’
Nina huffed. ‘Eddie, I really don’t want to get into this again. You know what? I’m just going to eat my sandwich – for which thank you very much, by the way. And,’ she added, ‘you are not going to get the last word just because my mouth’s full!’
‘As if I would,’ said Eddie, who had been planning to do exactly that.
She was about to take a bite when there was a knock at the door. Before she could ask who it was, Macy Sharif entered. ‘Hey, Nina. Hi, Eddie.’ The archaeology student, who had helped them discover the Pyramid of Osiris beneath the Egyptian desert the previous year, had accepted Nina’s invitation to spend part of her summer vacation as an intern at the International Heritage Agency before completing her final year of study. ‘Dr Bellfriar sent me to get you.’
‘Bet I know what he’s going to say,’ said Eddie with a mocking grin. ‘Eight months of looking at the things, and he’ll tell us . . . they’re made of stone. Thank you, that’ll be fifty grand plus expenses.’
‘Oh, he’s got way more to say than that,’ said Macy, the Englishman’s sarcasm fluttering past her unnoticed. ‘I should know. I had to make all his PowerPoint slides.’
‘Not enjoying your current assignment?’ Nina asked in an impish tone.
‘No, no, it’s fine!’ said Macy hurriedly, not wanting to seem ungrateful. ‘Just that I was hoping to do something a bit more fieldworky. With you.’
Nina patted one of the stacks of documents. ‘Funny, I was hoping to do some fieldwork too! But then some idiot tried to kill a bunch of world leaders, and we made a find that changes the face of archaeology, and, well, high-up people want to know about it. In triplicate.’
‘Maybe Bellfriar’s found something that’ll give you an excuse,’ Eddie suggested.
Nina looked hopefully at Macy, who tried unsuccessfully to hide an apologetic expression. ‘Anyway,’ said the young woman, ‘you can see for yourself. He’s with Mr Penrose and the others in the conference room.’
Nina took a quick bite from her sandwich before getting up from her desk. ‘What?’ she asked Eddie as she chewed. ‘I haven’t had lunch yet; I’m hungry. Come on.’
‘Do I have to?’
‘If I do, so do you.’ She shooed him from the office.
Macy led the way to the conference room. As well as Dr Donald Bellfriar, also present were several United Nations officials headed by Sebastian Penrose, who acted as liaison between the UN proper and its semi-independent cultural protection agency. ‘Ah, hello, Nina,’ said the bespectacled, officious Englishman.
‘Sebastian,’ Nina replied. ‘I didn’t expect so many people.’
‘Everyone loves a mystery,’ Penrose said. ‘I think they’re hoping Dr Bellfriar has the solution.’
Nina shared a knowing look with Macy. ‘We’ll find out soon enough.’
Everyone took their seats, Macy working a laptop and projector as the Oregonian geologist carefully smoothed his sweeping silver hair before addressing his audience. ‘Good afternoon, everyone. Before I start, I’d like to say how great it’s been to work with the IHA on this. I suppose that when archaeology can’t provide the answers, it’s time to