She left the hotel, crossed the road and ran along the Corniche, to the tourist ferry that would take her across the Nile. She had plenty of time, so there was no need to hurry, but Kate ran for two reasons. The first and the most important reason was, that if anyone was following her, they must either lose her, or reveal themselves by running as well. The second reason was, that it stopped her being hassled to buy this or that.
Kate was not running fast, yet became aware, whenever the traffic noise abated, of footsteps mirroring hers, though at some distance behind. She did wonder if it could be Alex, though she doubted that he would be off cloud nine yet. Struggling to get her camera out as she ran, she finally succeeded. Sliding the power switch, the lens popped out. She stopped, turned, took four or five photos on the widest setting, before turning back, running on and taking the steps down to the ferry two at a time.
Yet again she virtually threw the one Egyptian pound coin at the ticket collector. Not breaking her step, she ran onto the ferry and up the stairs as quickly as she could. From the top deck she looked for any sign of someone running onto the boat. There was no one. It was then that she knew for certain that it must have been an ancient who had followed her. They were unable travel on anything modern, anything which had not been there in their time. She knew, when she looked at the photos, that she would be looking for a woman. They would blend in from any era, whereas an ancient Egyptian soldier running along the Corniche would draw rather too much unwanted attention.
It being extremely bright on the upper deck, Kate went back downstairs so that she could review the pictures on her camera. The very first, when zoomed in on the small viewfinder, showed the running woman full face, a woman she recognised. She had noticed her the day they had, on Rose’s advice, walked ever so slowly back to the Winter Palace. They had taken lots of photographs, which Alex had downloaded to his laptop, though he had not yet shared his findings. Just as Three, he had never expected another attempt to be made on Kate’s life quite so soon. Who could have, after giving Merenptah such a colossal defeat?
Back on the top deck of the ferry, as it approached the West Bank, Kate thought that she was doing what she did best, working alone. She now knew exactly who to look out for. By the time the ferry had docked she was one of the first off, having pushed her way to the front of the crowd. Despite the many offers of taxis, incense and scarves, as well as extremely tacky gifts thrust at her by locals who hone in on tourists, she emerged unflustered.
Opening the passenger door, she slid into the waiting multi-coloured Volvo. She could not help smiling, as it was just as dirty, both inside and out, as it had been the last time she had been given a ride in it.
“Good morning, Kate,” said Rose, as they left the Nile behind them. Reaching the first junction, just a short distance up the road, Rose brought the car to a halt. As she did, she pressed the button that powered down Kate’s window. “It might be a good idea if you gave a wave.”
Kate looked across the road. At first, she saw nothing out of the ordinary, but then, as she looked up, she saw Ali and the waiters, all excitedly waving and gesturing for her to join them, on the roof of Africa Restaurant. She waved enthusiastically in return, and as she did, Rose’s phone started to ring.
“It’s for you,” said Rose as she handed her phone over.
“Hello” was followed by “Yes,” and then after a short pause, “Yes, honestly I am fine.” Kate looked at Rose as she said, “I would love to, but we are busy, and anyway, isn’t it a little too early for lunch?” Still looking at Rose for guidance, Kate now shrugged her shoulders as she gesticulated at the mouthpiece of the phone.
“Tell Ali we will be back later to eat.”
Kate told Ali this. She also added that she would look forward to seeing him. Rose drove on. They both gave a final wave as they headed off towards the Theban Hills. Kate did not know much about Rose, but knowing that she was trusted by Three and the ancients was good enough, or almost good enough, for her. The niggling fact that she appeared to be overly friendly with the Ra-Horakhty of Pharaoh Merenptah, was a slight cause for concern.
“I was expecting to hear from you, Kate, but not quite as early as you phoned this morning.”
“Sorry.”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter. I’m really glad that you called. After what Bast told me of yesterday, I was most concerned. Are you sure that you are okay?”
“Yes, really, I’m fine.”
“Honestly?”
“Yes, honestly,” insisted Kate, though she could no longer look at Rose. After a few seconds, she added, “Well, a little shaken really. I couldn’t sleep last night, which is probably why I called you so early.”
“That’s fine. Well, not fine, but it is best to admit how you feel. Nobody would be fine after what you and Alex experienced yesterday. It sounds as though the wagging finger will be a talking, and most likely a laughing point around Luxor for many years to come.” Rose swerved around a tour bus, waved at a policeman who was telling her to stop, though she did shout good morning to him in Arabic as she sped through the checkpoint and on to the Colossi of Memnon. “As I was saying, Kate, it is good to say how you really feel. It caught us all by surprise.”
“Well, it bloody surprised me!”
“I’m sure it did, but please do watch your language.” As Rose said this, she took her eyes off the road for a moment to smile at Kate, a smile they shared. They were both aware that whatever profanity Kate had used, it could not describe just how shocked all in the know had been at hearing the news.
“So, Rose, how do you know where Quentin’s dig is?”
“I don’t know where it is, but I do know that every morning he has stopped at the Ramesseum Café for a glass of anise.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s the café which is beside the Ramesseum, the mortuary temple of Ramses II. They serve hot and cold drinks as well as food which you have to pay for. At Africa, the food is always free for you.”
The sarcasm in Rose’s voice was not lost on Kate as she knew exactly what she was getting at. It had been a perfectly natural question to ask in ordinary times. However, these were anything except ordinary times. What did it matter what Quentin had to drink? It was what he was doing there, who might be with him and where he was going that was important. Kate spoke up in an attempt to regain some of the respect she wanted Rose to have for her. “I know that he isn’t working anywhere close to the Ramesseum, so I will have to watch him, then follow him without being seen.”
“An interesting observation. How do you know that he isn’t working there?”
“I know, because nobody would contact him to be the expert to excavate a Ramses era temple or tomb, when his expertise is Egypt under Greek rule. You know, Cleopatra and all that.”
Rose did not correct Kate by saying that it should be a Ramesside temple or tomb, but she was impressed. “Exactly! Now you are actually thinking, which is good.” Rose drove past the Ramesseum Café, stopping on the main road about fifty metres further on, by the excavations at the temple of Thutmosis III. Nobody was working there due to the summer heat. “Quentin is likely to arrive at any moment so we don’t have long. I’m glad that you phoned me today. I’m also very pleased that you trust me enough to call. I care about you and don’t want to see any harm come to you. Look, Kate, today I have helped you to go out on your own as you asked for my help. You were preaching to the converted when you said that you had to find yourself. I’ve been there, got the T-shirt as well as several scars to prove it, but whilst you are out there, wherever it is that you finally get to, you need to think about both teamwork and friendship.”
“But I do!”
“No, sorry Kate, you don’t, otherwise you would not be here on your own.” Seeing Kate’s face turn to a frown, Rose afforded her a slight smile. “Everything is happening very quickly for you, but I assure you that regardless of whatever you may think, you do need help. This is not something you will ever be able to solve on yo
ur own. Even today you needed my help, or you wouldn’t be here. I just hope that this is not something I will live to regret. Now go on with you.”
Kate said nothing. She got out of the car, then leant in to grab hold of her small backpack. “Could you come with me today?”
“I cannot, Kate, as I’m already late. We have operations all day today at the animal centre. Some days are like this. The people rely on their animals to earn a living, so I cannot let them down. I also cannot leave an animal in pain. I will try and get back to Africa later. I’m pretty sure that I can, as we all need to eat.” With that, Rose quickly turned the car around and headed off without another word or even a wave.
Kate did not know why, but she felt a wave of rejection come over her as she watched the beaten up old car becoming ever smaller. It bothered Kate somewhat that it bothered her at all. What did it matter if Rose never spoke to her again, as less than two days ago she had never met the woman, but it did bother her, and she did not know why.
The modern road was much higher than the remains of the surrounding ancient Egyptian temples. It was higher even than the Ramesseum Café. She had to get off the road, so she sat down before sliding down a white dusty slope. Making no attempt to get up as she came to a halt, Kate sat there and cried.
Suddenly aware of raised voices coming from the direction of the Ramesseum Café, Kate looked up, wiped her eyes, and tried to focus on what was happening. She saw an Egyptian wearing a fawn galabeya having a heated conversation with a taxi driver, though much more importantly she also saw Quentin, or at least the back of him, as he entered the café. Now Kate knew why Rose had left so abruptly and had not waved. It was obvious that she did not want to draw attention to the fact that she was here. Kate felt so relieved.
Pulling a white scarf from her small backpack, Kate wiped her eyes and face, only for it to look quite disgusting afterwards. This was something which had first amazed her after they had used the white sheets for cover as a way of gaining entrance to the tomb of Montuemhat. The desert was white, the rocks were white, the very coarse grained sand was white, yet whenever she wiped the sweat from her face, whatever she used, it went quite black.
Looking around, she worked out that she remained at a level which was higher than that of the Ramesseum Café. It sat in a hollow on much the same level as the Ramesseum, the mortuary temple of Ramses II, just a few hundred metres further on. “It wouldn’t be safe for me to go down there,” thought Kate, “as ancients can walk down there, kill down there!”
She wondered if going out on her own was such a good idea after all. Though today she did not want to be seen by Quentin, she would not have worried about going into the Ramesseum Café if Alex and Cairo were with her, and anyway, once she was following him to his dig, she would have to walk, alone, on ancient ground. So many thoughts and mixed messages spun around her head that she was unable to sort them out. This was partly due to her being so extremely overtired. It was only adrenaline that was keeping her going. Mostly, though, it was something else, something she could not put her finger on, something she knew that she had no control over. Kate fought against these thoughts, these emotions, as she had to be in control.
When two local service busses honked their horns at each other as they passed on the road above, it brought Kate back to the case at hand, causing her to focus on the Ramesseum Café. From her vantage point, she let her eyes follow the wall that surrounded the garden, though obscured any view of it, until they fixed on the entrance. With its long clear front made from small glass panels, held in place by thin lines of white painted metal, combined with its twisted canopy and flaking paint, it reminded her of a British seaside café from the nineteen sixties. Only the scooters were missing, and possibly the rain. She was all too aware of this period of British history from old movies which Aggie liked to watch over and over again. “That was Aggie’s heyday,” thought Kate, then she thought of the trouble she was going to be in when Aggie either woke up or came to. Even Alex did not know where she was. Nobody except Rose knew where she was, and once she had left here, then truly nobody would know where to find her.
“Perhaps I should have brought Alex and Cairo along,” Kate thought for a second time, but again her thoughts were broken as there was obviously another exit to the Ramesseum Café. She was sure that it was Quentin walking up the short track that led away from the far side of the café to the main road. The dark blue galabeya, sunglasses and wrapped tea-towel around the head, as Aggie liked to call the Egyptian headscarf, failed to disguise the pure white hands and face of Alex’s dad. The lack of flip-flops was also another big clue, because galabeyas and flip-flops always went together. It was difficult to see clearly from her vantage point, but it looked as though the person was wearing camel coloured boots, the colour that Quentin always wore. There was no doubt in Kate’s mind that she was looking at Quentin, wearing what he thought was the perfect disguise. Had there been any doubts in her mind, the Egyptian in the fawn galabeya, who had previously had the heated conversation with the taxi driver, would have taken them away. There he stood by the entrance to the Ramesseum Café which Quentin had originally used, looking straight at Kate, whilst pointing to the figure who had left by the other entrance. “Another of Rose’s friends,” she thought. She could not shout to thank him, so she just waved. He turned and went back into the café, job done.
Scurrying up the embankment, Kate was across the road before Quentin had even reached it. He also crossed the road, though much further down. She could not afford to lose him. The temples and tombs in this area were crammed in as tightly as a modern housing estate. Twenty paces in any direction and any tourist would travel through many hundreds of years of history, possibly thousands.
Quentin was stepping out. He was very quickly getting away from Kate. She could not afford to be seen, yet she could not afford to lose sight of him. If she did, her day was over. Unable to move quickly whilst also staying out of sight she was left with no option except to throw caution to the wind. He walked up the road, away from her, before stepping into the almost empty tourist car park for the tombs of the nobles. After crossing diagonally, he exited by the far corner.
Not one of the overeager guides, who waited to take tourists to the tombs, approached him. Kate immediately deduced that Quentin must come this way every day, because they knew all too well that they would get no business from him. So far, despite having to move much more in the open than she had wanted to, it had been really easy for Kate to follow without being seen. He never looked back once.
She did not think much of him changing his taxi on the way from the hotel to avoid being followed, if he made it this easy for anyone to follow him so close to where he was working, and he must be close, as he was on foot. Just as Kate thought this, she ran out of walls and ancient ruins to hide behind. The history was all here, though in this section with the passing of time, history had been reduced to no more than foundations left in the desert, and as such they afforded no cover. There were also no trees, bushes or vegetation of any kind to offer Kate even the slightest cover. She had to stay where she was, or she would be seen, as now Quentin was constantly glancing back.
Kate wished that she had known this part of Quentin’s route before she had left the hotel, as then she could have waited at the ruin on the top of the hill opposite. From there she could have all too easily watched where he went. Had Kate had her guide book of this area with her, she would have been able to find out that the ruin was in fact the remains of a Roman fort.
To the left of her for a good fifty metres and ahead of her for hundreds of metres, there was nothing except very slightly undulating white sand. Now Kate could see why Quentin took this route, as it was impossible for anyone to follow him. It was then that she saw a glint of light from the ruin on top of the nearby hill, the hill she wished she had been on top of. Somebody had obviously been watching her, as it was a glint from binoculars or perhaps a sniper’s rifle … an assassin! They had failed to kill her y
esterday, so they were going to make sure today. Kate shook her head at her own stupidity, as it was the ancients who wanted her dead, and even if they had a sniper’s rifle right there in front of them, they would not be able to pick it up, as it was not of their time. The same went for binoculars, so it could not be ancients. Whoever it was, they had to be watching through binoculars, but who were they watching, her or Quentin?
It was decision time for Kate. She had to know where Quentin was going, though he was very likely to be taking this route tomorrow and the day after. Now knowing which direction he took, she could find a better place to observe him from. There was no guarantee, however, that anyone watching from the remains of the Roman fort would be there tomorrow. Kate was now reasonably certain that they were both being watched, as the flash of light kept appearing and reappearing as if the binoculars were being moved from looking at her to looking at Quentin.
The moment she felt that the binoculars had been turned away from her, and just after Quentin had glanced back, she stood up and ran across the open space. Puffing and sweating, Kate was now beneath the hill, out of sight of anyone above. Having already decided that the only way up for her was not by any path, if there was indeed a path of any kind, but straight up from where she stood. Kate started to climb. At first it was fairly easy going, more of a walk than a climb. She was sure that arriving at the top from this route would give her the advantage of surprise, though as she thought this, the going suddenly became much harder. Now she was half walking, half crawling her way up, whilst trying to be as quiet as possible.
Death in Luxor Page 5
