With a bit of luck, this familiar system might do so again.
After twice reading through all five sheets, he got to his feet and stretched, recognizing that patience was a prerequisite for this to effectively work. There was no guarantee of success, of course, but he’d nothing to lose.
Besides, the attempt would only be beneficial.
Picking up the pad, he then began slowly pacing the confines of the room, all the while thinking about the sheets contents and their various interrelationships to one another. After several long minutes, some things now became patently obvious, no longer even debatable as far as he was concerned. For openers, he was now convinced the recent murders in Cairo were definitely linked to them and their quest to find the chest of pearls.
Coincidences be damned!
It had to be!
His first instincts were correct, his warning to Rashidi a vital necessity. To believe otherwise was foolish—and dangerous in the extreme. Too, he now had no doubt his original theory for the motive behind it was also spot on. Someone was determined to eliminate anyone with knowledge—or even possible knowledge like the Khafaghi family might’ve had—to the existence of such a treasure. Nothing else made sense.
So why no attempts to eliminate them?
The subliminal answer to his question was immediate.
Of course!
Unlike the Khafaghi family, it had absolutely nothing to with David’s group being much higher profile targets. Not a bit of it! No such protection was extended to them. In fact, quite the opposite was true. This mystery person wasn’t guarding the treasure! Instead, he needed them to first locate it! Once this happened, then he’d almost certainly have no compunction against eliminating all of them, as well. And quickly!
But could his colleagues be convinced?
Elizabeth for sure—and probably Omar.
Karim, however, would be a harder sell without concrete proof; something he simply didn’t have at this point.
Only furthering this growing dilemma, David now realized that if their period of relative safety was only dependent on locating the treasure, then it sure as hell wasn’t going to continue much longer—for he knew now exactly where the treasure was hidden!
To confirm this epiphany, he returned to the table.
There he sat and flipped to the last page of notes, re-reading the sheet a final time. I’ll be damned! he thought with a slow shake of his head. It was all laid out right in front of him—staring him in the face all evening!
Tahan Shadid was no longer a puzzle.
Everything about the man made complete sense.
Satisfied he knew the truth, David leaned back in his chair, pondering the wisdom of immediately telling Elizabeth and Omar. The more he considered the possible ramifications, the more inclined he became to hold off doing so for one more day. Tomorrow was soon enough. Besides, the final piece of evidence to prove him right was only a short drive away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The single-story house on the seashore property was basically as Omar had described, empty and long boarded up. The only surprise to David as the three of them got out of the rented SUV was the apparent closeness of the barren landscape behind it, marking the encroaching eastern edge of the Sahara desert. Unlike the nearby city of El Quseir, no property development of any kind had yet reached into this rural suburb. Nor was it likely to happen any time soon, for the city’s municipal planners now wisely kept the area off-limits due to its proximity to the ancient Ptolemaic port.
The mid-morning sun was already becoming intense, yet tempered by the cooling effects of the steady on shore breeze. By David’s watch it was 10:05, roughly the agreed time set for Karim and his daughter to meet them. Both were apparently curious enough to wish inclusion in the morning exploration. They arrived a few minutes later in their open jeep, joining them just as a close examination of the front of the house had begun.
David found this section to be in a more dilapidated state than even Omar recalled from the previous afternoon. The lengths of weathered wood nailed vertically across the shallow veranda were haphazardly attached, wide gaps between the planks offering no real protection to the interior. As evidence, the original mesh-screening behind it was rusted a distinct red.
“It’s a problem we all must contend with here along the Red Sea,” said Karim, demonstrating by pushing his finger through the crumbling material. “The salty air is continuously eating away at whatever iron or steel isn’t properly oiled or otherwise protected. As an example, in the past four years I’ve had to scrape and repaint our iron gate at least twice.”
He turned to look at the others.
“I assume we intend going inside?”
“Definitely,” replied David—and grabbing one of the two boards covering the veranda door, he jerked outward from the bottom. The rusted condition of the nails offered little resistance, separating with no difficulty.
As did the second board.
The door itself was then easily forced, the corroded hinges squeaking in protest as it was pushed inward.
David led the way inside, warning the others to be cautious of where they stepped. Some of the flooring was in bad shape, buckled and separated in several places. No flashlight was necessary. Sunlight streamed in through the open door, not to mention the existing gaps in the outside planks. The combination was adequate for them to take in their surroundings.
The veranda was scarcely six feet in width, barely allowing space for a narrow iron cot now flipped on its side. Like the mesh screening and hinges, its coil springs appeared more flaking rust than actual metal. Over forty years of exposure had done its worst.
They proceeded into the main living area of the house, passing through an open archway that separated it from the veranda. It was basically a large single room without any obvious divisions, the rectangular space long since gutted of any furnishings. On the back wall was another door, secured by a dead bolt and flanked by two sets of windows—both of which were visibly boarded up on the outside.
“Not much to see,” commented Elizabeth. “So this was the murder scene?”
Omar nodded.
“According to the police report, yes. They believed the thief—or possibly thieves—somehow got in through one of these windows. As for the present lack of furnishings, the place was probably stripped clean of anything usable by Shadid’s nephew when he gave up the property for unpaid taxes. Rugs, chairs, furniture—”
“Maybe not everything,” said David, approaching a dust-covered tarp on a corner of the floor. He stooped and flipped back a wide section, exposing Shadid’s old tools, none of which looked in very good condition.
“Wonder why this wasn’t taken, as well.”
“Who can say?” shrugged Omar. “Perhaps he saw no value in it. That or maybe superstition got the better of him.”
“How so?”
Omar lifted his hands.
“No idea. Just idle speculation.”
David picked up a rusted claw hammer before replacing the tarp.
He now noticed how Karim remained at the archway, showing no apparent desire to enter and walk about the room as did the others. On the contrary, he appeared almost frozen—and even in the half-light his face seemed unusually drawn and pale. It made David wonder why the older man had even wished to meet them here in the first place.
After a few minutes more, David indicated he’d seen enough, saying, “We should close it up and leave everything the way we found it.”
Karim was the first to exit the building.
“Are you alright?” asked David, using the hammer to reattach the planks. “You seemed a distracted in there.”
“What—?”
Karim’s solemn expression immediately disappeared.
“Oh, no, not at all. I—I was only thinking about what I’ve yet to do today. I hate to say, but over this past week I’ve let some of my duties slide. Omar mentioned you want to do a walkabout on Shadid’s land—but unless I’m needed,
I think Lana and I should really head back to work.”
“Of course.”
As the two returned to their jeep and drove off, a watching Omar pursed his lips thoughtfully, saying, “I hope that’s all there is to it, David. He didn’t seem quite himself, did he? Maybe a under the weather, you think?”
“You noticed it, too?”
“Hard not to. It came on him kind of sudden.” He turned to Elizabeth. “What about Lana? Did she seem in any way out of sorts when we were inside?”
“Not that I noticed. You know, we really have been occupying a lot of Karim’s time.”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
David wasn’t quite so willing to accept this reason.
Whatever disturbed Karim came on him far too fast. And it quickly vanished once he was back outside. That room was damn near empty—so what was there about it could’ve triggered such a strong reaction?
Intriguing as this was, necessity now forced him to set it aside.
At the moment, something more important needed to be resolved. If his late night epiphany regarding Shadid and the pearl necklace had any legs, then he’d know soon enough with the aid of Elizabeth and Omar.
“So how do we do this walkabout?” queried Omar. “And if you don’t mind my asking, what exactly are we looking for?”
David wasn’t prepared to give an answer.
At least not yet, anyway.
“Humor me. The property is fairly flat, so let’s just fan out and see if we find anything looking the least bit strange or appear out of place.”
“Such as—?”
“We’ll know if something fits the description.”
Omar accepted this uninformative response with a slight shrug.
“A broad category, David, but I’m game.”
Elizabeth, however, gave him an amused look and winked.
“You’re not fooling me for an instant,” she said. “You’ve had something percolating away in your mind since dawn. I expect I’ll have to wait to hear what this is all about. Only don’t make me wait too long, okay?”
Her perception didn’t surprise him. If anything, it was expected.
“I promise. Bear with me for a little while longer.”
Within less than twenty minutes, David had his answer—the visual confirmation of his theory. It was Elizabeth who hesitantly waved them over, not entirely sure if her discovery qualified for his attention.
It definitely did.
And more!
On a relatively smooth patch of ground was what he perceived to be a vague, concave depression in the barren soil. No more than a couple inches in depth, it would’ve certainly gone unnoticed by any casual observer—yet David immediately recognized it as a crucial indicator of what he’d hoped to find.
In fact, Elizabeth wasn’t even aware she now stood in its shallow center.
Instead, what had induced her to call him over was a meager assortment of unlikely items scattered about on the ground. Among them was a loose coil of heavy rope. Beside it were several nailed sections of dried wood someone had long ago fashioned into a makeshift beam some fifteen feet in length. Even more telling—at least as far as David was concerned—was a fairly large stone deposited nearby, now partially buried in the sand.
Perfect!
Both Omar and Elizabeth stared at his inexplicable grin of pleasure. Before they could seek an explanation, however, he gestured them toward the parked van.
“David, where are we going? What’s this all—?”
“Trust me. I’ll explain everything back at the resort. There’s something there you both first need to see.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Once they returned to the bungalow, David fulfilled his promise by immediately opening his laptop. Still connected to the Internet, he returned to a page he’d researched the previous night before retiring. It was an ancient mechanism to raise irrigation water from wells with relative ease.
The principle was crude, but highly effective. It consisted basically of an upright frame on which was suspended a long beam. At one end hung either a bucket or skin bag; while at the other end hung a suitable stone weight that functioned as the counterpoise of the lever. Once water was raised, the container was then emptied into a runnel, which in turn conveyed it along ditches dug in the required direction for thirsty crops.
David angled the laptop for both to better see.
“Look familiar?”
Omar gave an immediate nod.
“What you’re showing,” he said, “is a classic shadoof, still commonly employed in a great many areas of rural Egypt. It’s also still prevalent in parts of Africa and Asia, as well. A labor saving device going back four millennia. I admit there are some distinct similarities between this and what Elizabeth came across; the coil of rope, the stone, the makeshift beam—making it all somewhat plausible, I suppose. But even if a well once existed there, what possible significance could this mean regarding our current situation?”
“Ah, but it means everything. Trust me.”
Omar waited.
“And make no mistake,” continued David, “I don’t believe for a second a finished well ever existed on that land. A much better explanation is Shadid was simply gathering up some of the key elements beforehand for a working irrigation system on his new property. According to the newspaper account and police report, he was a practicing well digger by trade. Thus I can easily imagine his intention of putting his expertise to work growing vegetables for the local markets. Not only would the additional land and effort insure his privacy, but it would also provide him income.”
Omar was confused by the importance David ascribed to any of this.
“So what’s your point?” he asked. “You think he intended to dig a well, but for some reason never quite got around to it before fate intervened.” He shook his head. “Either way, I still don’t see why this has a bearing on anything.”
David saw otherwise.
“Oh, he started digging one, all right. There’s no question. You may not have noticed but there was a shallow depression where Elizabeth was standing. Now, exactly how far down Shadid actually got before he hastily filled it back in is something we’ll have to learn on our own. And we will. For myself, I’m guessing it wasn’t more than a couple of feet.”
He smiled at their puzzled expressions.
“That’s when fate, as you call it, abruptly intervened. The shocking discovery he made must’ve literally blown his mind. What he came upon—by blind luck and purest of chance—was the absolute find of a lifetime.”
Omar gaped, his face incredulous.
“Are—are you actually saying what I think you are?” he finally managed. “You believe he—Shadid—found the treasure chest?”
David nodded.
“I’m convinced that’s exactly what happened. And more to the point, I think it’s still out there where it lay hidden for the past two thousand years until Shadid stumbled across it.”
Omar and Elizabeth both struggled for words.
It was Elizabeth who spoke first.
“David, you think I—I was actually standing over a chest of pearls once belonging to Cleopatra? And there still there now?”
“I believe so, yes. If you follow it all logically, it makes perfect sense from every angle. Think about it. We know that one of the ancient pearl necklaces was in Shadid’s home on the night he was murdered. It must’ve come from somewhere. Nor did he have it in his possession very long prior to his death. In my judgment, reason dictates it could’ve come from no other place.”
Omar finally found his voice.
“Why do the two events have to coincide? I’m afraid you’re going to have to explain this theory of yours in a lot more detail, my friend.”
David was more than willing.
“Consider the close timing of everything, Omar. Shadid acquired that property only a matter of weeks before he was killed. If he possessed such a valuable artifact at any point before buying the property, then why i
n God’s name would he begin physically digging a well to irrigate an arid field? He surely knew the great value of the necklace. My guess is when he initially came upon and opened the buried chest, he was so bowled over by his unbelievable discovery that he took out just a single piece, hastily covering up the rest for future retrieval. Being a cautious and secretive man, he probably needed time to calm himself down and figure out how to best dispose of it all.”
“If you’re right, what makes you suspect he removed only one?”
“Because that’s what the badly wounded kid took up to Sharif in Cairo. If there was more in Shadid’s house the young burglar would’ve certainly grabbed them, as well.”
Omar saw the sense.
“Okay, I can accept that . . .”
A thoughtful Elizabeth remained confused.
“But, David, doesn’t everything hinge on whether or not it was actually Shadid who started digging that well? I mean, isn’t it possible the well was already there for years? Unless I’m missing something, there’s really no proof to show otherwise.”
“But there is. Take another look at how a shadoof operates. After water is raised from a well, it’s then funneled via long ditches to nourish crops. That’s its sole function.”
Omar saw where David was heading.
“Yes, of course!” he interjected. “I should’ve seen the obvious implication myself.” He turned to Elizabeth. “There’s no visual evidence that any such ditches ever existed on the property. Not a trace I saw, anyway—which again points the finger at Shadid. It was a totally virgin parcel of land when he bought it.”
Rising excitement brought a distinct flush to Elizabeth’s face.
“Then I only have two questions, David,” she said, “though I suspect the first is unanswerable. If your hypothesis ends up being correct, then what could account for the chest being buried here in the first place?”
He considered her query. It was a definite puzzle, to be sure, but perhaps not entirely unsolvable.
The Porus Legacy Page 13
