“Thomas and I will settle for amazed.”
She looked at Boris. “The two of you did not cook this?”
Boris shook his head. He stood on crutches, his right leg bandaged in a protective, inflatable boot. “Of course not. We’ve been busy working with artifacts. We had a caterer deliver.”
“From Herat?”
“There was no closer place.”
“But this must have been very expensive.”
Boris raised a hand. “Please. We owe you our lives.”
“Not exactly me. Major Dolgov had the situation in hand by the time we arrived.”
“Ah yes, my illustrious spy.”
“Do you know why he has been watching you?”
Boris shrugged. “I am opinionated and a university professor. Before the Wall, well, either one of those things would have garnered the attention of the KGB.”
“Major Dolgov is SVR.”
“I do not know their agenda, nor do I care. I am doing nothing that would get me into any trouble. I am simply a man who has dedicated his life to discovering what I can of the past. As you yourself have done.”
“I fear I’m more fascinated than dedicated. History holds my attention.”
“Then let us hope it holds your commitment for a great many more years to come. You are an excellent director.”
Layla looked around the tent. “Where is Professor Lourds?”
“He will be along. He—”
“—Is here, actually.” Lourds stepped through the tent flaps carrying a vase of flowers. “I’d forgotten to ask the caterer to bring a table setting. By the time I remembered, he’d already left Herat. I had to ask another courier.”
Layla watched in perplexed wonder as Lourds put the setting on the table. The bouquet included several large sunflowers, which she loved. “You had another courier dispatched simply to bring the flowers?” She couldn’t believe it. “Do you know how many of my people that would feed?”
“I do.” Lourds faced her squarely. “And I’m hoping that the courier I paid, as well as the flower shop owner, spends their profits within their communities. That’s usually how free enterprise works. You make money. You spend money. I’m a big advocate of that.”
Knowing what he said was true, Layla still felt a bit irritated.
“I know I have been very fortunate when it comes to money, Director Teneen. If you’d like, I can show you a list of foundations I endow and charities I donate to on a regular basis as the sales of my books permit. But don’t think for a moment that I won’t spend some of my ill-gotten gain to enjoy myself. Or to share a fine meal with my friends.”
“Of course. I stand corrected. This is not my business.”
“No, it isn’t.” Lourds smiled. “But I like the fact that you stand by your priorities.”
“I could have lived without the flowers.” Layla was embarrassed at her comments now, because he was totally correct. She had no right to counsel him on his spending.
“Perhaps you could have. But I could not. I wanted this celebratory dinner to be everything that it currently is. Not to impress you, but to congratulate Boris on his dogged pursuit.”
Boris delivered a mock bow while on his crutches and nearly fell over. Lourds had to steady him with a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, Thomas, and thank you even more for this fine repast. I shall probably not eat this well again until I see you next time.”
Lourds grinned and patted Boris on the stomach. “I know. You’ve been practically wasting away. I noticed that when we were squeezed together in that passageway.”
“Hello, the tent.”
Layla turned at the man’s voice.
Lourds went to the tent flaps and opened them. “Major Dolgov. Please. Come in.” Lourds waved the man inside.
Dmitry Dolgov appeared a little uncertain, but he kicked his boots off and stepped into the tent. He smoothed his shirt, which was clean but was one meant for work rather than a feast. He gave a small smile. “I appear to be somewhat underdressed for the event.”
“Not at all. Boris and I are glad to have you and twice as glad that you’re a crack shot and a brave soul.”
Dmitry smiled and bowed his head. “As needs must.”
Boris shifted on his crutches. “Perhaps we could sit. Standing isn’t doing much good for my leg, I’m afraid.”
Layla pulled out a chair for the Russian professor, then was pleasantly surprised to find Lourds doing the same for her at the end of the table. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Instead of sitting beside her as Layla had thought he would, Lourds sat at the other end of the table. Layla didn’t know how she felt about that, and she was even more surprised to find that she felt anything at all.
Boris picked up a bottle of wine and offered it to Layla. She refused, and he offered her bottled water instead, which she took. While at school in the West, she occasionally drank alcohol and did not feel as though she were offending God. But while she was in Afghanistan, she held to the edicts of her culture and religion as closely as she was able. Being unchaperoned with three men for dinner was already excessive.
Lourds took wine as well, but Boris offered a bottle of vodka to Dmitry. “A bottle of the best vodka our sources told me could be had in Herat, Major.”
“Danka. But please call me Dmitry. That way, when I am drunk, you will remind me who I am.” Dmitry grinned.
After pouring himself some vodka, Boris held up his glass. “A toast, my companions. To this fine dinner, to Thomas for providing the meal, to Dmitry for his marksmanship, and to Layla, the best director I have ever had.”
They toasted, and then the eating began.
As he ate, Lourds found himself mesmerized by Layla’s dark gaze. She was enchanting, witty, and effusive once she had relaxed, and she matched Boris and Lourds story for story when it came to swapping tales — and even lies, which Boris told with the absolute best authority.
“In your exploration of the cave where the passageway dropped you, you have found no indication of the promised treasure?” Layla picked at the kofta, the meatball made of ground lamb and spices and onions. The dish was a staple of many Afghanistan restaurants and family tables.
Lourds had enjoyed kofta on several occasions and enjoyed it now. Boris had been diligent in keeping the meal properly heated. He drank more wine and picked up a khameerbob, a pasta dumpling filled with onions and ground beef. Biting into it, he savored the rush of flavors and spices from the yogurt topping filled with sour cream and garlic. The dried mint it was topped with mixed in as well.
“Well, that’s a rather humorous story.” Boris looked more embarrassed than amused. “Have you heard of those Internet scams that start something like, ‘I am a Nigerian ex-patriot who was a banker in my country and left a large sum of money in the Bank of Nigeria’?”
“Of course. But that is a con game.”
“Yes. Only one not so deadly as the one I apparently found.”
Layla smiled uncertainly. “You’re saying there was never a treasure.”
“I’m afraid so. Think of all those poor, greedy merchants lured off the trail as they went to and from Herat. Here they were, sold a bill of goods by some thieving murderer and ended up getting impaled by that hidden spear.”
“But why not simply kill the victims where they were found?”
Lourds finished swallowing and picked up the thread of the tale. “Possibly the thieving murderer, to use Boris’s term, was an old person.”
“Or a young one, or possibly even a woman.” Boris shrugged. “We don’t know, but changing the sex and age makes the tale much more interesting, doesn’t it?”
Layla frowned. “Whoever did this was very bloodthirsty.”