I ducked behind a convenient pillar. John sauntered towards me and paused to light a cigarette. ‘Yours?’ he asked.
‘No. I don’t think so. Yours?’
‘At this point we must assume everyone who isn’t for us is against us. Walk, do not run, to the nearest exit.’
It was the only thing to do; I’d be even more conspicuous lurking in doubtful concealment. But I felt as if I were being followed across the lobby by a gigantic searchlight, and when someone barred my path I almost jumped out of Feisal’s oversized sandals.
‘Excuse me, young fella.’
I looked wildly over my shoulder before I realized I was the young fella in question. The speaker was a grey-haired American wearing a bright red fez. He wanted to know where I had bought my shirt. Innocent creature that I am, I didn’t realize that wasn’t all he wanted until he suggested that we have a drink while we talked it over.
I was about to tell him what he could do with his drink – and his fez – when John, passing on his way to the door, swung his briefcase and caught me a painful blow on the leg. It was, as the poet says a salutary reminder. I growled wordlessly at my admirer and scuttled after John.
By the time I reached the car I was running, and so was the engine. John shoved me in.
‘You daft female,’ he said crossly. ‘What did you stop for? I think Foggington-Smythe may have spotted you.’
‘I can’t help it if I’m irresistible to men,’ I said, falling across his lap as Feisal made an abrupt and doubtless illegal U-turn.
John set me upright. ‘In your present costume I have no difficulty at all resisting you.’
‘Crushed again.’
‘I am beginning to understand why so many people are so annoyed with you two,’ said a voice from the front seat. ‘Where’s the Herr Direktor? Where are we going? What – ’
‘One question at a time,’ said John. ‘First, I suggest you get off the corniche. Take back streets whenever possible – ’
‘We have to go past the railroad station first,’ I interrupted.
‘No, we don’t.’
‘Yes, we do. I want to make sure Schmidt – ’
‘No, we don’t.’
‘Stop it!’ Feisal shouted hysterically.
‘Right,’ said John. ‘Who’s in charge here, anyhow?’
‘I’m not winding my way through a maze of back streets, either,’ Feisal declared. ‘The sooner we get out of Luxor the happier I’ll be.’
John sighed. ‘That was certainly one of the most futile questions I have ever asked. Vicky, there’s no use looking for Schmidt at the station. I – er – I haven’t been entirely candid with you.’
‘No!’ I exclaimed. ‘You, not entirely candid? I can’t believe it. What little teeny tiny unimportant detail did you omit? Don’t tell me, let me guess. There is no night train to Memphis, right?’
‘There is no bloody train to Memphis, stop, end of sentence!’ He caught himself in mid-shout and in the silence that followed I could hear every shaken breath. ‘I told you that,’ he went on, a few decibels lower. ‘What I neglected to mention, for a number of reasons, all excellent, is that there are several night trains to Cairo. Would you care to hear my ideas as to which one Schmidt is most likely to have chosen, or would you rather continue this unproductive exchange of insults?’
‘I hate it when you talk like that,’ I muttered. ‘Go on.’
‘Egyptian trains,’ said John, in an even more maddening drawl, and with even more infuriating precision, ‘are of several types. Wagon Lits runs two overnight expresses, with sleeping cars, between Luxor and Cairo. They start at Aswan, in fact, but that doesn’t concern us. One leaves Luxor at seven-thirty and the other at ten-thirty. Both times, I hardly need add, are approximate.’
‘You hardly need. How do you know the times?’
‘I believe I mentioned earlier that strict attention to schedules is essential for one who wishes to succeed in my profession. That rule applies particularly to transportation. Really,’ John mused, ‘one day I must write a little handbook. Rule number one: As soon as you arrive in a place, find out how to depart in a hurry.’
‘Don’t do that, John,’ I said very gently.
‘Then leave off distracting me. As I was saying: Most well-to-do tourists who travel by rail take those trains. And that, my dear, is a very good reason why Schmidt, if I read his character aright, wouldn’t have taken either. They have a further disadvantage in that they do not stop between Luxor and Giza, just outside Cairo. Once you’re on that train you can’t get off it for ten or eleven hours. If I were worried about possible pursuit, I’d prefer more flexibility.’
‘Makes sense,’ I admitted. ‘So what’s the alternative?’
‘I’m so glad you asked. The other night trains make several stops, but only one of them offers first-class travel. First class is fairly comfortable, even by your effete American standards. Second and third class are not, and even if Schmidt were prepared to endure the crowding and the heat, he wouldn’t stand a chance of passing as a student or an Egyptian.’
‘So – ’
‘So, I think he intends to take the eleven p.m. train. It stops at Sohag, Asyut, and Minya. If he wants to confuse his trail he’ll buy a ticket through to Cairo and get off at one of the above.’
‘Is that the last train?’
‘There are others, after midnight. We have to assume he meant not only “night,” but “tonight.” The note had today’s date.’
‘It’s clever, but awfully tenuous,’ I said.
We had left the city centre behind and the only light came from the headlights of approaching vehicles. John had withdrawn into the opposite corner. He didn’t respond to my comment, but I could still hear him breathing and I didn’t like what I heard.
‘Are you all right?’ I asked.
‘Perfectly.’
‘Maybe you should take another of those – ’
‘I just did.’ He hesitated for a moment and then said, ‘If I should happen to fall asleep, wake me before we reach Nag Hammadi. We may have to reconsider our strategy at that point.’
‘What strategy?’ I demanded. ‘If you have some plan in mind I wish you’d let me in on it. Are we going to try to intercept Schmidt at one of the places you mentioned, or do you intend to drive straight through to Cairo, assuming this decrepit hunk of metal can make it that far, or – ’
Feisal interrupted me with a vehement comment in Arabic.
‘What did you say?’ I leaned forward.
‘I’d rather not translate literally. There are corresponding proverbs in English, referring to domineering women.’
I heard a muffled laugh from John. ‘Now, kiddies, don’t be rude. The main north-south highway and the railroad tracks cross the river at Hammadi. If they are going to set up a roadblock, that’s the obvious place. We’ll have to reconnoitre before we try the bridge. There’s nothing we can do about it until we get there, so stop quarrelling and let me get some sleep.’
I couldn’t think of a response that wasn’t rude, childish, or irrelevant, so I didn’t say anything.
John was out before we’d gone another mile, so far under that he only muttered sleepily when I put my arms around his shoulders and drew him down so that he was lying across the seat with his head on my lap. Feisal had his foot down as far as it would go. The car shook alarmingly but the engine was surprisingly quiet.
There was a good deal of traffic. Egyptian drivers have a demoralizing habit of switching on their bright lights instead of dimming them as they approach another car. I tried not to cringe every time this happened, but I didn’t succeed. Each approaching vehicle cast a brief, garish glow into the interior of the car. It might have been a delicately sculpted skull I held in the curve of one arm, the eye sockets dark hollows, the skin clinging tightly to the bones of cheek and temple. There was no softness of underlying flesh, except for the parted lips.