“We are heading to three places. The Coolnet café, the last place Ms. Winters was seen. Then her apartment. After that, I’ll take you to the museum. I’ve arranged a time to speak with Professor Razi, Ms. Winters’s superior.”
“Her bones are not going to be in her apartment, or the Internet café, or the museum,” Tolliver said.
“We’re also conducting a conventional investigation,” Hauck said, beginning to be pissed off by the two Americans’ indifference to the rest of the world, including anyone else’s experience.
He addressed his next remarks exclusively to Nabila.
“So what do we know about her? Did she like to party? What about any relationships with men? Ex-boyfriends? Anyone who might have a motive for harming her. Was she active in local affairs? Did she go to the synagogue, have contacts there?”
“By all accounts she was like any of the students who come here,” Nabila said. “Alexandria is a place that sets your spirits free. She went to some parties. Still, Dr. Omar Razi, her superior at the museum, says she was a serious girl and a dedicated worker. Her primary focus was the discovery of ruins of past civilizations.”
The car wound down a narrow street.
“In fact, we are entering the old Roman part of the city. There is not much left from that era. What the Ottomans or earthquakes did not destroy, time has built over.”
Hauck pointed at a tall column amid a walled-in field of white marble rubble. “What’s that?”
“That is Pompey’s Pillar,” Nabila said. She pulled to a stop and turned to face all her guests. “You know the famous Roman consul? The Romans appointed him as Cleopatra’s guardian. She hated him though. He fought Caesar and Anthony. When he was on the run from Caesar, he was assassinated here. His bones are rumored to be under the pillar, but in fact—”
“He’s not,” Harper interrupted.
“Not what?” asked Hauck.
“There’s no one buried there. No bones, no bone powder.”
“In fact, as I was about to say,” Nabila said stiffly, turning to her, “you are right. It is now known that Pompey is not in fact buried inside the tomb. And also—”
“It’s not even a pillar,” Harper said. “It’s round. Pillars have sides. It’s a column.”
“Yes,” Nabila said, with a glance at Hauck, “that’s what I was about to say. It’s a column. Everything about it is incorrect.”
Hauck grunted to himself. He was not a big fan of what he’d seen so far of the Winterses’ consultant. Psychic bone detector?
“Maybe it’s time for an Egyptian coffee,” Nabila said, and started driving again. The car pulled up at a street-side café. “We are here. This is the Internet café that Ms. Winters patronized.”
Inside, the place looked a lot like an American Internet café. Lots of young people sitting at the small tables, using their laptops. The click of the keys was louder than the conversation.
They all ordered coffees.
Tolliver and Harper, who hadn’t eaten, ordered a Greek salad and chicken in yogurt sauce.
“Be careful of the salad,” Nabila warned. “You never know how things are washed.”
“No, we are good, madame,” the waiter said. “You see, tourist menu.”
“Very well,” she said. “Still.”
A tall, lanky young man of about twenty-five with a mop of light brown hair wearing a soccer T-shirt and jeans approached the table.
“You may sit,” the inspector said, waving him to a seat. “This is Ivo Karilic. He works here. In the evenings, correct?”
“Night manager,” the youth said in a hard-to-read European accent.
“Ivo was Stephanie’s friend. He was here the night she disappeared,” Nabila told Hauck. She turned to Ivo. “These people were hired by her family to look into her whereabouts. Ivo, why don’t you tell them what you told me?”
The man tossed back his wavy hair. He was good looking and knew it. “We were friends. Stephanie was a good girl. Everyone liked her. Lots of students hang out here. We give them free Internet and some music they know. I saw her that night. She was with her usual friends. Tina, one of her roommates. Francois, I think she worked with. But I heard he’s left and gone back to France.”
“Something we should follow up on?” Hauck asked Nabila.
“We did, of course. As it turns out, Francois remained here until two a.m. that night. He never left.”
“He was fond of her,” the restaurant manager said. “We all were.”
“How fond?” Tolliver seemed to have decided to join the conversation. His sister was distracted again, tiny twitches in her face and hands indicating she was listening to other voices.
Or other bones.
Ivo looked at Tolliver doubtfully. “You are a little young to be with the police.”
“True,” Hauck said. “But it’s a fair question, so answer.”
“Like I told Inspector Honsi,” Ivo said. “Once, back in the fall, we hooked up. Stephanie and I.”
“Only once?” Hauck added a lot of skepticism into his voice.
“One night. She wasn’t into the whole boyfriend scene. She was only going to be here a year. She was serious about her work. Nothing interfered. That’s the truth.”
“When’s the last time you and she hooked up?”
“Only that once, months ago. I have a girlfriend now. Flora. She’s Albanian. She works nights with me.”
“Anyone else have an interest in Ms. Winters?” Hauck asked. “An interest she didn’t return?”
“You must be kidding. Everyone is all over everyone here. They’re students. They’re here for a while, in Egypt, and then they go. It’s the song of the Nile.”
Hauck said, “We’re not on the Nile.”
“Someone’s song then. All the foreigners here are temporary, like me.”
The salad and chicken came.
“You guys want a beer?” Ivo asked, returning to his professional manner.
“No thanks,” Harper said.
“I’ll have one,” Tolliver said.
“If I were you, I’d watch the lettuce,” Nabila warned him again. “Maybe stay with the tomatoes and cheese.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, lifting his fork. “I have a cast-iron stomach.”
Nabila shook her head, with a glance toward Hauck. “What is it you say? Famous last words.”
THEY WALKED A FEW MINUTES before getting back in the car. From their position on a natural rise in the land, Nabila pointed out the location on the water where the famous Pharos Lighthouse had stood on a promontory, maybe an island? Hauck couldn’t tell.
“It was one of the wonders of the ancient world,” she said. “But it was destroyed by an earthquake in 1480. “It isn’t far from the location of our famous library.”
“Can we please get going?” Harper said, after taking in the view. “You said we could go to where she lived?”
“Of course,” the inspector said. “This way back to the car.”
Harper turned and had taken a couple of steps before she stopped. Her face completely pale.
Tolliver leaped to her side.
She buckled.
Hauck grabbed her by the arm to keep her from hitting the ground. Her face had turned pasty, her eyes glazed and rolled up in her head.
“The food?” Nabila said anxiously. “I warned you.”
“No.” Harper shook her head as Hauck helped her back into a standing position. “It’s not the food. This is different. Something’s here.”
“Meaning what?” Hauck pressed, helping her over to a parked car where she could lean.
Tolliver said, “Dead people.”
“Stephanie?” Nabila asked. “Here?”
“No.” Harper laid a hand to her head and blew out her cheeks. “Ten times stronger. A hundred times. Something’s here. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like it. It’s as if my legs just gave out.” Her color was still bad. She took a couple of deep breaths, trying to regain her composure. Then she pointed away from the harbor, blinking, a look of determination creeping on her face. “What’s over there?”