Sphinx (16 page)

“Like the Seti I statue?” said Erica, looking again at Yvon's profile. He smiled and she could see the whiteness of his teeth against his tanned skin.

“Exactly,” he said. “But can you imagine what Seti's unplundered tomb must have looked like? My God, it must have been fantastic. The treasures of Tutankhamen dazzle us today, but they were insignificant compared to Seti I's.”

Erica knew Yvon was right, especially after seeing the statue at Abdul Hamdi's. Seti I had been a major pharaoh who ruled an empire, Tutankhamen an insignificant boy king who probably never held any real power.

“Merde!”
shouted Yvon as they hit one of the ubiquitous potholes. The car shimmied from the impact. As they entered Cairo, the road deteriorated and they had to slow down. The city began as pieces of cardboard propped up with sticks. They were the housing of the newly arrived immigrants. The cardboard gave way to sheets of metal and cloth and occasional oil barrels. Finally the shantytown was superseded by crumbly mud
brick and eventually the city proper, but the feeling of poverty hung in the air like a miasma.

“Would you care to come to my suite for an after-dinner brandy?” asked Yvon.

Erica glanced over at him, trying to sort out her feelings. There was a good chance that Yvon's offer was not as innocent as it sounded. But she was definitely attracted to him, and after the appalling day, the idea of being close to someone was very appealing. Still, physical attraction was not always a reliable guide to behavior, and Yvon was almost too good to be true. Looking at him, she admitted that he was beyond her experience. It was too much too soon.

“Thank you, Yvon,” said Erica warmly, “but I think not. Perhaps you'd like to have another drink at the Hilton.”

“But of course.” For a moment Erica felt a little disappointed Yvon wasn't more persistent. Perhaps she was a victim of her own fantasies.

Reaching the hotel, they decided a walk would be better than the smoke-filled Taverne. Hand in hand they crossed the busy Korneish-el-Nil Boulevard to the Nile and wandered out onto the El Tahrir bridge. Yvon pointed out the Meridien Hotel on the tip of Roda island. A lone felucca silently slipped through the dappled path of moonlight on the water.

Yvon put his arm around Erica as they strolled, and Erica allowed her own hand to cover his. Again she felt self-conscious. It had been a long time since she had been with any man besides Richard.

“A Greek named Stephanos Markoulis arrived in Cairo today,” said Yvon, stopping by the balustrade. They gazed at the dancing lights reflected on the water's surface. “And I believe he will call and try to see you.” Erica looked up questioningly.

“Stephanos Markoulis deals in Egyptian antiquities in Athens. He rarely comes to Egypt. I don't know why he is here, but I would like to find out. Ostensibly he's come because of Abdul Hamdi's murder. But he might be here because of the Seti statue.”

“And he wants to see me about the murder?”

“Yes,” said Yvon. He continued to avoid looking at Erica. “I don't know how he is involved, but he is.”

“Yvon, I don't think I want to have any more to do with the Abdul Hamdi affair. Frankly, the whole business frightens me. I've told you everything I know.”

“I understand,” said Yvon soothingly, “but unfortunately, you are all I've got.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

Yvon turned to her. “You are the last connection to the Seti statue. Stephanos Markoulis was involved somehow with the sale of the first Seti statue to the man in Houston. I'm worried he's involved with the present statue. You know how important it is to me to stop this rape of antiquities.”

Erica looked over toward the gay lights of the Hilton. “The man from Houston who bought the first Seti statue also arrived today. He was waiting for me in the Hilton lobby this afternoon. His name is Jeffrey Rice.”

Yvon's mouth tightened perceptibly.

“He told me,” continued Erica, “that he was offering ten thousand dollars to anyone who could merely tell him where this second Seti statue is so he could buy it.”

“Christ,” said Yvon. “That's going to turn Cairo into a circus. And to think I've been worried whether Ahmed Khazzan and the antiquities service were going to find out about the existence of this statue. Well, Erica, this means I've got to work fast. I can understand your feelings about involvement, but please do me the favor of seeing Stephanos Markoulis. I need to know more about what he's up to, and you may be able to help. With Jeffrey offering that kind of money, I think we can be sure the statue is still available. And if I don't move quickly, it too is going to disappear into some private collection. All I ask is that you see Stephanos Markoulis and then tell me what he says. Everything he says.”

Erica looked at Yvon's pleading face. She could sense his commitment and knew how important it was that the fabulous Seti I statue be preserved for the public.

“You're sure it will be safe?”

“Of course,” said Yvon. “When he calls, arrange to meet in a public place, so you don't have to worry.”

“All right,” she said, “but you'll owe me another dinner.”

“
D'accord,
” said Yvon, kissing Erica—this time on the lips.

Erica studied Yvon's handsome face. A warm smile lingered at the corners of his mouth. She wondered for a moment if he wasn't using her. Then she chided herself for her own suspiciousness. Besides, it was possible she was using him.

 

Returning to her room, Erica felt better than she had during the whole trip. Yvon had aroused her in a way that she had not experienced for a long time, since even the physical aspect of her relationship with Richard had not been totally satisfying for a number of months. And Yvon was capable of making his sexual desires seem secondary to a meaningful relationship. He was willing to wait, and that made her feel good. Outside her room she inserted her key quickly and swung the door open widely. Everything appeared in its place. Remembering hundreds of movies she'd seen, she wished she had made some provision to determine if someone had entered her room. Turning on the lights, she strode into the bedroom. It was empty. She checked the bathroom, smiling at her own sense of melodrama.

Then, sighing with relief, Erica gave her door a shove, and it closed with a resounding thud followed by the reassuring click of the American-made hardware. She kicked off her shoes, turned off the air conditioning, and opened the balcony door. The floodlights on the pyramids and sphinx had been turned off. Returning to her room, she took her jersey dress off over her head and hung it up. In the distance she could hear the traffic that still plied the Korneish-el-Nile, despite the hour. Otherwise the hotel was silent. It was while she was removing her eye makeup that she heard the first unmistakable sound at her door.

She stopped moving, staring at her image in the mirror.
She was dressed in her bra and panties, with the eye makeup gone from one eye. In the distance the usual auto horns sounded, followed by silence. She held her breath, her ears straining. Again she heard the muted sound of metal hitting metal. Erica felt the blood drain from her face. Someone was pushing a key into the lock of her door. The realization made her turn slowly around. The night bolt on the hall door was undone. Erica was paralyzed. She couldn't make herself lunge for the dead bolt. She was afraid that she would not be able to close it before the door was opened. The tumblers in the lock clicked again.

Then, as she watched, the doorknob began slowly to turn. Erica looked at the lock on the bathroom door. It was a mere button on the handle, and the door itself was a thin panel. Again, the isolated sound of the key being forced made her look back at the slowly turning door handle. Like a frightened animal's her eyes raced around the room for escape. The balcony! Could she cross over to the neighboring terrace? No, she'd have to swing out over a nine-story drop. Then she remembered the telephone. She ran across the room on silent feet and yanked the receiver to her ear. She heard a distant ring. Answer, she shouted silently, please answer.

There were a few final clicks from the door, different from the others, heralding the full penetration and rotation of the key. The door was unlocked, and without another sound it cracked open, allowing a strip of harsh light from the hall to knife into the room. Erica dropped on her knees. Throwing the phone receiver onto the bed and flattening herself on the floor, she wriggled under the bed.

From beneath the spread she could just see the base of the door as it opened. A buzzing sound came from the phone. Erica knew the phone would give her away, a telltale sign she was hiding! A man came into the room, quietly closing the door behind him. As Erica watched in an agony of terror he walked toward the bed and out of Erica's line of vision. She was afraid to move her head. Above her she heard the receiver replaced. The
intruder then silently walked back into her line of vision and apparently checked the bathroom.

Cold sweat formed on Erica's face as she watched the feet go to the closet. He was searching for her! The closet door opened, then closed. Coming back to the center of the bedroom, the man stopped, his shoes no more than five or six feet from Erica's head. Then they come forward: step by step, stopping by the bed. She could have touched him—he was that close.

Suddenly the bedspread was pulled up, and Erica was looking up into a man's face.

“Erica, what in the world are you doing under the bed?”

“Richard!” Erica screamed, and burst into tears.

Although Erica was still too shaken to move, Richard pulled her from beneath the bed and dusted her off.

“Really,” he said with a grin. “What are you doing under the bed?”

“Oh, Richard,” said Erica, suddenly throwing her arms around his neck. “I'm so glad it's you. I can't tell you how glad I am.” She pressed herself against him, holding him tight.

“I should surprise you more often,” he said happily, putting his arms around her bare back. They stood together for a few moments as Erica collected herself and dried her tears.

“Is it really you?” she said finally, looking up into his face. “I can't believe it. Am I dreaming?”

“You're not dreaming. It's me. Maybe a little exhausted, but right here with you in Egypt.”

“You do look a little tired.” Erica brushed his hair off his forehead. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I'm okay. Just tired. Trouble with equipment, they said. We were delayed almost four hours in Rome. But it was worth it. You look wonderful. When did you start putting makeup on only one eye?”

Erica smiled and hugged him gently. “I would have looked better if you'd given me a little more notice. How could you get the time off?” She leaned back in his arms, her hands pressed up against his chest.

“I had covered for someone a few months ago when his father died. He owed me a favor. He'll see all the emergencies and in-house patients. The office will just have to wait. I'm afraid I wasn't very effective anyway. I've missed you terribly.”

“I've missed you too. I guess that's why I telephoned.”

“I was glad you did,” said Richard, kissing her forehead.

“When I asked you a year ago about possibly coming to Egypt, you said there was no way you could take the time.”

“Well . . .” said Richard, “I didn't feel as confident about the practice then. But that was a year ago, and now I'm here with you, in Egypt. I have trouble believing it myself. But, Erica, what were you doing under the bed?” A smile formed in the corners of his mouth. “Did I scare you? I didn't mean to, and I'm sorry if I did. I thought you'd be sleeping, and I wanted to come in quietly and awaken you as I used to do at home.”

“Did you scare me?” questioned Erica. She laughed sarcastically. She pushed herself away to get her white eyelet robe from the closet. “I still feel weak. I mean, you terrified me.”

“I'm sorry,” said Richard.

“How did you get a key?” Erica sat on the edge of the bed, her hands in her lap.

Richard shrugged. “I just walked in and asked for a key to 932.”

“And they just gave it to you? They didn't ask any questions?”

“Nope. It's not unusual in hotels. I was hoping they would, so I could really surprise you. I wanted to see your face when you first learned I was in Cairo.”

“Richard, with what I've been through during the last few days, it was probably the worst possible thing you could have done.” Her voice took on an edge. “In fact, it was pretty stupid.”

“Okay, okay,” said Richard, lifting his hands in mock defense. “I'm sorry if I frightened you. I didn't mean to.”

“Didn't you think I'd be scared if you snuck into my
room at midnight? Really, Richard, that's not too much to ask. Even in Boston, that would not be wise. I don't think you thought about my feelings at all.”

“Well, I was excited to see you. I mean, I've come nineteen zillion miles.” Richard's smile began to fade. His sandy hair was tousled, and his eyes were lined with dark shadows.

“The more I think about it, the more idiotic it sounds. God, I could have had a heart attack. You scared me to death.”