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She glanced back at the transcript. "I like her. Loyalty. Power. Decision making. She did what Peseshet wanted, but she did it her way." She smiled faintly. "And she managed to honor her 'lady' by browbeating Kontar and heaven knows who else into making those shrines. Two birds with one stone."

"And I have a hunch that she didn't give a damn whether those tablets were found or not. She just wanted to keep them from the ruler who had killed Peseshet." He tilted his head. "Or maybe she just wanted to make sure whoever found them had the intelligence and drive to use them well. Whatever her motive, she made a conscious decision to set up obstacles."

Her gaze was still narrowed on the transcript. "I don't see any reference to Kontar's tomb in this. There's only a huge list of all Peseshet's friends and clients."

"I didn't pick out Kontar either until Jonesy's decode. She refers to a puzzle on which she worked six years. Natifah was a very smart woman, and I couldn't see any obvious puzzle. But a code could be a puzzle, so I decided it was worthwhile raiding Jonesy and putting him to work on it."

"Breaking into my computer on this slim a chance?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"I have a motive."

He smiled. "So do I." He changed the subject. "I've been having the flight attendant check schedules. There's no flight to Las Vegas or New York out of Paris until tomorrow morning. It will take me an hour or so to retrieve the hard drive from the safe. Do you want to check into a hotel close to the airport?"

"If we can't get out any sooner."

"You're welcome to try if you don't believe me."

She didn't speak for a moment. "I believe you."

"Within limits."

"Definitely within limits."

He chuckled. "And I suppose you want to go with me to retrieve the hard drive?"

"You know it." She paused. "All you said was a safe. Where is this safe?"

"In my own private bank. It's about thirty minutes from Charles de Gaulle Airport, where we'll be landing."

"You have your own bank?"

"Of a sort. I suppose it's more like a safety-deposit box. I don't like banks run by the financial community. I know how easy their accounts are to access and move around."

"Only by someone like you."

"If I could do it, someone else might manage. No, I prefer my own bank. Much safer."

"And where is your bank located?"

"Gare du Nord railway station. We board a train at the airport and get off at Gare du Nord. We should be in and out of that station with the hard drive in hand in fifteen minutes. Then we'll take the train back to the airport and go to the Hyatt Hotel. Okay?"

"It will have to be. We need that hard drive."

SEVEN

"Good Lord, this place is busy." Rachel's gaze wandered over the huge station, teeming with people. They had just gotten off the high-speed train at Gare du Nord, and Tavak had his hand beneath her elbow, urging her forward and keeping her with him as they tried to negotiate their way through the crowds.

"It should be busy. It's the third largest station in the world."

"Now, where the hell is your bank? Should I be—What are you looking at?"

Tavak was staring over his shoulder at the passengers getting off the train. "Nothing. At least, I hope it's nothing." He quickened his pace. "Let's get moving."

"We're practically running now."

"So we are." He slowed a little. "As much as we can in this mob. You're right, it's damn crowded here. I don't like people this close."

"Claustrophobic?"

"No." He was glancing over his shoulder again. "Wary." He was suddenly guiding her toward a row of shops and food stands. "It's right ahead. Keep moving."

"What's right ahead? I don't see anything resembling a bank."

"We're right on top of it." He'd stopped at a colorful booth selling magazines and newspapers and spoke to the tall, thin man behind the counter. "Bonjour, Raoul. How's business?"

"Well enough." The man Tavak had addressed as Raoul gave him a toothy smile. "It's a slow time. Weekdays are better."

"It doesn't seem slow to me." Tavak gestured to Rachel. "Raoul Joubert. Rachel Kirby."

Raoul nodded. "Delighted." His gaze shifted back to Tavak. "Have you come to make a withdrawal?"

"Yes."

"Good." He made a face. "You pay well, but holding your merchandise always makes me uneasy."

"It shouldn't. It's nothing illegal. Not even weapons this time."

"Maybe it's you who make me uneasy." He lifted the wooden gate. "Come and take it off my hands."

Tavak glanced at Rachel. "Wait here."

"I'm not going anywhere." She watched him go behind the gate, squat down, and move a pile of magazines. "This is your bank?"

"Why not?" He had opened a trapdoor to reveal a lockbox with a combination. "I trust Raoul. He's been my banker for the past twelve years." He quickly punched the buttons that opened the box. "And my deposits always stay where I leave them." He drew out a gray plastic bag and shut the lockbox. "Come on. It's past time to get out of here." He stood up and turned to Raoul. "Thanks. I'll be in touch."

"Yes," Raoul said absently, his gaze on the crowd. "You do know there is someone following you?"

"Medium height. Brown hair. Black jacket, gray pants." Tavak lifted the gate. "He came on the same train from the airport. I also saw him at Customs. He was probably on the same plane we took from Cairo."

"Be careful," Raoul murmured. "And stay away from me for at least six months. I wish to be careful, too."

Rachel's gaze had flown to the spot where Raoul was looking, but she was too late to catch anything but a fleeting glimpse as the man faded into the crowd. "You didn't tell me we were being followed."

"I wasn't sure for a little while." He grabbed her arm. "I'm sure now. We need to get you out of here."

"The train back to the airport?"

"No." He was heading in the opposite direction and moving in and out of the crowds with snakelike speed. "The street."

"Why?" She was running to keep up with him. "You said the train—"

"I want out of these crowds. Anyone could slip a knife between my ribs, and no one around me would know it."

"You think he wants to kill us?"

"Not us. I'm the target. But I don't want you getting in his way. I think we've lost him for the moment, but he'll see us as soon as we climb the stairs to the street." He was pulling her up those stairs now. "He could either have orders to steal the hard drive or to take me out." He opened the door and glanced outside before pushing her out on the walk. "Don't wait in that queue to get a taxi." He put the bag containing the hard drive in her hands. "Hurry. Go at least two blocks. Catch a taxi from there to the airport hotel. I'll meet you later."

"You'll meet me? Come with me now."

He shook his head. "I'll play the decoy and go back and draw him away. Get going."

"You're overreacting. Maybe he's not following us."

"I'm not overreacting. Move."

"The hell I will."

"Don't argue." He turned and headed back toward the door to the station. "Get out of here now."

She still hesitated.