Yvon employed a pilot, but since he had trained to fly himself, he usually preferred to be at the controls. There was no air traffic and they were cleared immediately. The knifelike little jet thundered down the runway and leaped into the air as Erica’s fingers blanched.
Once they were under way, Yvon relinquished the controls and came back to talk with Erica. Beginning to relax, she said, “You mentioned that your mother was from England. Do you think she might have known the Carnarvons?”
“Why, yes. I’ve met the present earl,” said Yvon. “Why do you ask?”
“Actually, I’m interested to know if Lord Carnarvon’s daughter is still alive. Her name is Evelyn, I believe.”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” said Yvon, “but I could find out. Why do you ask? Have you become interested in the ‘Curse of the Pharaohs’?” He grinned in the half-light of the cabin.
“Maybe,” answered Erica teasingly. “I have a theory about Tutankhamen’s tomb that I want to investigate. I’ll tell you about it when I get some more information. But if you could find out about Carnarvon’s daughter for me, I’d really appreciate it. Oh, one other thing. Have you ever heard the name Nenephta?”
“In what context?”
“In relation to Seti I.”
Yvon thought, then shook his head. “Never.”
They had to fly a complicated pattern over Cairo before they were allowed to land, but formalities were brief, since the plane had already been cleared. It was just after one A.M. when they arrived at the Meridien Hotel. The management was extremely cordial to Yvon, and although they were supposedly full, they somehow managed to find an extra room for Erica next to his penthouse suite. Yvon invited her over for a nightcap after she had settled herself.
Erica had brought only her canvas tote bag, packing a minimum of clothing, her makeup, and reading material. She’d left the guidebooks and flashlight in her room in Luxor. So there was little to do by way of “settling” herself, and she walked through the connecting door into the main room of Yvon’s suite.
He had removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves and was just opening a bottle of Dom Perignon when Erica entered. She took the glass of champagne, and for a moment their hands touched. Erica was suddenly conscious of his extraordinary good looks. She felt as if they had been moving toward this night since they first met. He was married, he obviously wasn’t serious, but then, neither was she. She decided to relax and let the evening take its own course. But an excited pulse began between her thighs, and to distract herself she felt impelled to talk. “What makes you so interested in archaeology?”
“It started when I was still a student in Paris. Some of my friends talked me into going to the École de Lange Oriental. I was fascinated and worked like crazy for the first time. I’d never been much of a student. I studied Arabic and Coptic. It was Egypt that interested me. I guess that’s more of an explanation than a reason. Would you like to see the view from the terrace?” He held out his hand to her.
“I’d love to,” said Erica, the pulse quickening. She wanted this. She didn’t care if he was using her, if he was simply compelled to take to bed any attractive woman he met. For the first time in her life she let herself be swept along by desire.
Yvon slid open the door, and Erica walked out under the trellis. She could smell the fragrant roses as she stared down at the whole city of Cairo spread out against the canopy of stars. The citadel with its bold minarets was still illuminated. Directly before them was the island of Gezira, surrounded by the dark Nile.
Erica could sense Yvon’s presence behind her. When she looked up at his angular face, he was studying her. Slowly he reached out and drew the tips of his fingers through her hair, then cupped the back of her head and pulled her to him. He kissed her tentatively, sensitive to her emotions, then more fully, and finally with true passion.
Erica was amazed at the intensity of her response. Yvon was the first man she had been with since knowing Richard, and she was not certain how her body would react. But now she opened her arms to Yvon, matching his excitement with her own.
Their clothes fell naturally as their bodies slowly sank to the Oriental carpet. And in the soft silent light of the Egyptian night they made love with intense abandon, the sprawling throbbing city serving as mute witness to their passion.
Day 6
Erica awoke in her own bed. She dimly remembered Yvon saying that he preferred to sleep alone. Turning over, thinking of the evening, she was amazed to find she felt no guilt.
When she emerged from her room it was about nine. Yvon was sitting on the balcony dressed in a blue-and-white-striped robe, reading the El Ahram newspaper in Arabic. The rays of the morning sun were broken into pieces by the trellis, splattering the area with bits of bright color like an impressionist painting. Breakfast lay waiting under silver serving dishes.
He got up when he saw her and embraced her warmly.
“I’m very glad we came to Cairo,” he said, holding out her chair.
“So am I,” said Erica.
It was a pleasant meal. Yvon had a subtle humor that Erica enjoyed immensely. But after the last piece of toast, she was impatient to continue her investigation.
“Well, I’m off to the museum,” she said, folding her napkin.
“Would you care for some company?” asked Yvon.
Erica looked across at him, remembering Richard’s impatience. She did not want to feel rushed. It was better to go alone.
“To be truthful, the kind of work I want to do is going to be a bit boring. Unless you want to spend the morning in the archives, I prefer to go by myself.” Erica reached across the table and touched Yvon’s arm.
“Fine,” he said. “But I’ll have Raoul give you a ride.”
“It’s not necessary,” she protested.
“Compliments of the French,” said Yvon cheerfully.
Dr. Fakhry led Erica into a small stuffy cubicle off the main room of the library. On a single table against the wall was a microfilm reader.
“Talat will bring the film you desire,” said Dr. Fakhry.
“I appreciate your help very much,” Erica told him.
“What is it you are looking for?” queried Dr. Fakhry. His right hand suddenly shook spasmodically.
“I’m interested in the robbers who broke into Tutankhamen’s tomb in ancient times. I don’t think that aspect of the discovery has been given the attention it deserves.”
“Tomb robbers?” he questioned, then shuffled from the room.
Erica sat down in front of the microfilm reader and drummed her fingers on the table. She hoped that the Egyptian Museum had as much material as possible. Talat appeared and gave Erica a shoe box full of film. “You buy scarab, lady?” he whispered.
Without even answering, Erica began to look through the microfilm canisters, conveniently labeled in English with cards from the Ashmolean Museum, which houses the original documents. She was genuinely surprised at the wealth of the material and made herself comfortable, since she was clearly going to be there for a while.
Flipping on the reader, Erica inserted the first roll of film. Fortunately Carter had written his journal in a compulsively neat script. Erica skimmed to the section describing the stonecutters’ huts. There was no doubt that they had been built directly over the entranceway to Tutankhamen’s tomb. Erica was now positive that the robbers had to have plundered Tutankhamen’s tomb before the reign of Ramses VI.
She continued skimming until she came to the section where Carter listed the reasons he was sure before he discovered Tutankhamen’s tomb that it existed. The piece of evidence that Erica found the most fascinating was a blue faience cup with the cartouche of Tutankhamen, found by Theodore Davis. No one had ever wondered why the little cup was found hidden under a rock on the hillside.