The thought of the trip managed to dull the fear of the last few days and alleviate her feelings about fighting with Richard. The Temple of Karnak, the Valley of the Kings, Abu Simbel, Dendera-these were the reasons she had come to Egypt. She would go south, see Abdul’s son, but concentrate on viewing the fabled monuments at first hand. She was glad Richard had decided to leave. She would not think about their relationship until she returned home. Then they would see.
Checking the bathroom for the final time, Erica was rewarded by finding her cream rinse behind the shower curtain. She shoved it in her bag and checked the time. It was a quarter to six. She was about to leave for the train station when the phone rang. It was Yvon.
“Did you see Stephanos?” he asked cheerfully.
“I did,” said Erica. She allowed an awkward pause. She had not called because she was angry he had subjected her to such danger.
“Well, what did he say?” asked Yvon.
“Very little. It was what he did that was important. He had a gun. We had just met at the Al Azhar mosque when a huge bald man appeared who looked like he’d been beaten. He told Stephanos that someone named Khalifa was there. Then all hell broke loose. Yvon, how could you have asked me to meet such a man?”
“My God,” said Yvon. “Erica, I want you to stay in your room until I call back.”
“I’m sorry, Yvon, but I was just leaving. In fact, I’m leaving Cairo.”
“Leaving! I thought you were officially detained,” said Yvon with surprise.
“I’m not supposed to leave the country,” said Erica. “I called Ahmed Khazzan’s office and informed them I was going to Luxor. It was fine with them.”
“Erica, stay until I call back. Is your… boyfriend planning on going with you?”
“He’s returning to the States. He was as upset about meeting Stephanos as I was. Thanks for calling, Yvon. Keep in touch.” Erica hung up the phone very deliberately. She knew Yvon had used her as bait in some way. Although she believed in Yvon’s crusade against the antiquities black market, she did not like being used. The phone rang again but she ignored it.
It took over an hour for the taxi to go from the Hilton to the central railway station. Although Erica had carefully showered for the trip, within fifteen minutes her blouse was soaked with perspiration and her back stuck to the hot vinyl seat cover.
The railway station stood in a busy square behind an ancient statue of Ramses II, whose timeless appearance was in sharp contrast to the mad rush-hour commotion. The inside of the station was jammed with people, ranging from businessmen in Western clothes to farmers carrying empty produce containers. Although Erica was aware of some stares, no one tried to accost her, and she moved easily through the crowds. There was a short line in front of the sleeping-car window, and Erica had no trouble purchasing her ticket. She planned to break her trip at a small village called Balianeh and do a little sightseeing.
At the large kiosk she bought a two-day-old Herald Tribune, an Italian fashion magazine, and several popular books on the discovery of Tutankhamen’s tomb. She even bought another copy of Carter’s book, even though she’d read it many times.
The time passed quickly, and she heard her train announced. A Nubian porter with a wonderful smile took her bag and stowed it at the foot of her berth. The porter told her that they did not expect the car to be full, so she could spread her things out over two seats. She put her tote on the floor and leaned back with the Herald Tribune.
“Hello,” said a pleasant voice, slightly startling her.
“Yvon,” she said, truly surprised.
“Hello, Erica. I’m amazed I found you. May I sit down?”
Erica picked up her reading material from the seat next to her.
“I took a chance you were going south by train. All the flights had been booked for some time.”
Erica gave a half-smile. Although she was still angry, she couldn’t help but be a little flattered that Yvon had followed her, obviously with some effort. His hair was disheveled, as if he had been running.
“Erica, I want to apologize for whatever happened when you met Stephanos.”
“Nothing really happened. What bothered me was what could have happened. You must have had some idea, because you said to meet him in a public place.”
“Indeed I did, but I was only concerned because of Stephanos’ reputation with women. I didn’t want you to be subjected to any uncomfortable overtures.”
The train lurched slightly, and Yvon stood, looking up and down the aisle. Satisfied that the train was not pulling out, he sat back down.
“I still owe you a dinner,” said Yvon. “That was our deal. Please stay in Cairo. I have learned some things about the killers of Abdul Hamdi.”
“What?” asked Erica.
“That they were not from Cairo. I have some photos I’d like you to see. Perhaps you could recognize one.”
“Did you bring them?”
“No, they are at the hotel. There wasn’t time.”
“Yvon, I’m leaving for Luxor. I’ve made up my mind.”
“Erica, you can go to Luxor whenever you wish. I have a plane. I can fly you there tomorrow.”
Erica looked down at her hands. Despite her anger, despite her misgivings, she could feel her resolve weakening. At the same time, she was tired of being protected, taken care of.
“Thank you for the offer, Yvon, but I think I’ll go by train. I’ll call you from Luxor.”
There was the sound of a whistle. It was seven-thirty.
“Erica…” said Yvon, but the train began to move forward. “All right. Call from Luxor. Perhaps I’ll see you there.” He dashed down the aisle and jumped from the train, which was now picking up speed.
“Damn,” said Yvon as he watched the train slide from the station. He turned into the busy waiting room. By the exit he met Khalifa.
“Why aren’t you on that train?” snapped Yvon.
Khalifa smiled slyly. “I was told to follow the girl in Cairo. Nothing was said about taking a train to the south.”
“Christ,” said Yvon, walking toward a side door. “Follow me.”
Raoul was waiting in the car. He started the engine when he saw Yvon. Yvon held open a rear door for Khalifa then climbed in after him.
“What happened in the mosque?” asked Yvon as they pulled out into the traffic.
“Trouble,” said Khalifa. “The girl met Stephanos, but Stephanos had posted a guard. In order to protect her, I had to break up the meeting. I had no choice. It was a bad location, almost as bad as the serapeum yesterday. But in deference to your sensibilities, there was no killing. I shouted a few times and fired off a couple of shots and cleared out the whole mosque.” Khalifa laughed contemptuously.
“Thank you for considering my sensibilities. But tell me, did Stephanos threaten or make any move against Erica Baron?”
“I don’t know,” said Khalifa.
“But that was what you were supposed to find out,” said Yvon.
“I was supposed to protect the girl, then learn what I could,” said Khalifa. “Under the circumstances, protecting the girl took all my attention.”
Yvon turned his head and watched a bicyclist go by, balancing a large tray of bread on his head and making better time than they were in the car. Yvon felt frustrated. Things were going poorly, and now Erica Baron, his last hope for the Seti statue, had left Cairo. He looked at Khalifa. “I hope you’re ready to travel, because you’re going to Luxor tonight by air.”