Aside from her, there was no one in the shop except for the owner, a stout middle-aged woman who got up from her chair behind the counter and came towards Katherina with a smile. Before the woman could even say hello, Katherina had pulled the gown over her head and reached behind to pull up the zipper.
'You want dress?' asked the shop-owner in English with a mixture of friendliness and astonishment.
Katherina turned to face the mirror which was set up at the far end of the store. From there she could keep an eye on the street behind her.
'Too big,' said the woman, laughing. 'Too big.'
The shop-owner began tugging at the zipper, but Katherina stopped her.
'Baby,' she said, pointing to her stomach.
At that moment she caught sight of the bald man from the marketplace. He was staring through the shop window.
'Ahh,' exclaimed the owner, giving Katherina a knowing wink. 'Baby.' She began merrily chattering to herself in Arabic as she continued to nod and smile eagerly.
The man outside paused for a moment. For a split second Katherina met his eyes in the mirror, but he didn't recognize her and moved on up the street.
'But too long,' said the shop-owner and laughed even louder.
Katherina looked down at the dress. It was indeed much too long. She threw out her arms.
'Too long,' she admitted.
The shop-owner helped her out of the dress and began hauling down other gowns for her customer to try on. Katherina kept shaking her head and pointing towards the door.
'Must go,' she said repeatedly. 'Do not feel well.' She pointed at her stomach.
'Ahh,' cried the shop-owner again, this time with disappointment. 'You feel better. You come back.' She patted Katherina's cheek. 'You get good price. Baby price.'
Katherina thanked the woman and slipped out, turning to go in the same direction she had come without looking back. Only after ten metres did she stop at a window to study the display. A number of fake weapons were on view: knives, pistols and larger guns. She glanced back along the street, but the two men were nowhere in sight, so she continued as quickly as she dared without actually running.
After turning several corners and dashing through small, narrow alleyways that she'd come to know from her wanderings, she finally felt sure that she'd given them the slip. She sat down on a doorstep and buried her face in her hands. Tears welled up in her eyes.
She had found Jon and then lost him again. She'd been standing not five metres from him, but then she'd run in the opposite direction. She swore at her own cowardice. If only she'd been able to reach him. It was clear that he had changed, or at least that he didn't remember what they'd shared together. What had those people done to him?
'Have you found anything?' asked a voice.
Katherina raised her head. A man dressed in white robes stood in front of her. He wore a traditional Arabic head-dress that covered much of his face. Only the man's words revealed that he was a European.
'Mehmet,' she cried with relief as she stood up to give him a hug.
Mehmet cautiously placed his arms around her and gently patted her back.
'It looks like you've found something, huh?'
He didn't wait for a reply, nor did he ask her any more questions as he led her back to the hotel through the narrow streets.
'I hope I can figure out how to put it on again,' said Mehmet as he unwound the fabric that formed his head-dress and placed it on the armchair in Katherina's room.
It was a very sparsely furnished room with only a bed, a chair and an armchair with floral upholstery. The shutters were closed, and the room was in semi-darkness.
Katherina was sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs pressed together and her elbows propped on her knees.
Mehmet pounded on the wall to the adjoining room.
'Could you come in here, Henning?' he said loudly. The walls were so thin they could hear what was going on in nearly every room on the floor. As far as they could tell, they were the only Scandinavians in the hotel, so they didn't have to watch what they said.
A moment later Henning turned up, his face pale and with sweat trickling from his scalp.
'What's going on?' he asked as he sat down in the armchair, moving like an old man.
'I saw Jon,' said Katherina.
Mehmet sat down next to her and waited for her to go on.
'At the marketplace,' she explained. 'All of a sudden he was just standing there, giving me a really strange look as if I were a total stranger.' She took in a deep breath. 'Then he sent his bodyguards after me.'
'Bodyguards?' said Henning. 'Are you sure they weren't his prison guards?'
Katherina nodded. 'He pointed me out to them.'
Mehmet looked down at his hands. 'He must have had a good reason for doing that,' he said. 'Maybe he wanted to scare you off, so they wouldn't capture you too.'
'But you should have seen his eyes,' said Katherina. 'The look in his eyes was so different. As if he hated me with all his heart.'
'Maybe he was trying to push you away for your own protection,' Henning suggested.
Katherina shook her head vigorously. 'No, he really meant it,' she told them.
'That can only mean one thing,' said Henning solemnly. 'They've been reading to him.'
The idea of brainwashing had crossed Katherina's mind as she searched for an explanation, but it hadn't occurred to her that it might have been done through reading. Even though she'd participated in a reading, she didn't connect it with brainwashing or torture.
'But is that possible?' she asked. 'We were… are… in love. How could that be turned into hatred in such a short time?'
'It would require an extraordinarily talented transmitter,' Henning admitted. 'And an even better excuse.'
'Excuse?' said Mehmet. 'I don't get it.'
'A reading can't totally replace one attitude with another. It can't turn white to black. If you try to do that, you'll fail. On the other hand, if you try to present an alternative explanation, the subject in question, with the proper sort of influence, willchoose to change his attitude. The subject will be able to recall everything – the attitude he had previously held, and even the reading itself, but he'll think he made the choice on his own.'
'Man, that's sneaky,' exclaimed Mehmet, leaning back on the bed.
'So Jon made the choice to hate me?' asked Katherina.
Henning shifted uneasily in his chair.
'In any case he was presented with a lie that convinced him hehad to hate you.'
Katherina got up and went over to the window. Through the slats in the blinds she could look down at the street in front of the hotel. There wasn't as much traffic in this part of the city, only an occasional motorbike racing past.
Had she come all this way to Alexandria in vain?
'Is there anything we can do?' she asked without turning round from the window. She noticed that tears had begun to spill down her cheeks.
Henning sighed deeply. 'That's hard to say. If the conflict between the two choices is big enough, at some point he'll suffer a relapse. I'd think the shock alone of seeing you today would make him reconsider what has happened.'
'Unless more lies are presented to him?'
'Correct,' replied Henning. 'The more arguments they give him for keeping his distance from you, the better.'
'For them, you mean.'
Mehmet stood up and went over to her, patting her shoulder. 'If he loves you, he'll come to his senses.'
Katherina nodded, fighting to hold back the sobs.
'At least we know he's here,' said Mehmet. 'And I think I located some of the others today.'
'Where?' asked Katherina.
Until now they'd been unable to find any of the individuals the Shadow Organization had sent to Alexandria. For days they had roamed around, studying the tourists in the city, the whole time trying to determine whether those sightseers were Lectors as they read their guidebooks or scanned the menus in restaurants. They had memorized th
e faces from the black-and-white school photos Mehmet had found, but most of them were taken some time ago, so they didn't expect to be able to recognize the students by appearance alone.
'There's a big group staying at the Hotel Seaview, closer to the harbour,' Mehmet explained. 'One of them might be our mole.'
'Pau?'
'Or Brian Hansen, as he's really called.'
The papers from the school had revealed Pau's real name as well as his RL value. It was listed as 0.7, a very low number compared to most of the other members, who on average had a value ten times higher. It didn't make them feel any better that someone with such a low ranking had been able to fool them for months.
'Couldn't we use him?' asked Katherina, turning to face Henning.
'As a hostage?' Henning shook his head. 'I don't think so. His job is done. After the neutralizing of Luca and Jon, he's no longer of any importance to them.'
'Maybe he could tell us what's going to happen,' Katherina suggested.
'You want to force him to do that?' said Mehmet with a crooked smile.
'We'd just be playing by their rules,' Katherina pointed out. 'Henning could read to him.'
She had no idea how strong of a Lector Henning might be. So far he hadn't been much help. On the very first day he'd taken to his bed feeling sick, and he hadn't been able to take part in the search. Maybe he wouldn't even be capable of reading.
'I'm sure I could get Nessim to find out Pau's room number,' said Mehmet.
'Nessim?'
'The desk clerk downstairs,' replied Mehmet. 'I have a feeling he has a good network here in the city. When he heard that we knew Luca, there were no limits to what he wanted to do for us.'
Before leaving Denmark, Mehmet had dug up as much information as possible on Luca's trip to Egypt just before he died, and one of things he found out was that Luca had stayed at this hotel where they had now taken rooms. Otherwise Luca had left behind very few clues. He'd used his credit card at a few places in town, including at the Bibliotheca Alexandrina, but that was all.
'Was Nessim able to tell you anything about Luca?' asked Katherina.
'No. Nothing except that they talked about the weather, the library and various trivial matters. He described Luca as a friendly man who gave generous tips.' Mehmet went over to the door. 'I'm going to get him on the case right away.'
After he left the room, Katherina sank down onto the bed. She hadn't allowed herself to get much sleep since the night she spent at Clara's. It was only when she was about to collapse with exhaustion that she'd been forced to give in and take a nap for an hour or two. Even then she slept uneasily and usually awoke drenched in sweat without feeling rested, yet unable to go back to sleep. Her encounter with Jon hadn't made things any better. She sensed that if they didn't get to him soon, it would be too late.
She gave a start when the phone rang.
'It'll take a couple of hours before Nessim can get Pau's room number,' said Mehmet on the other end of the line. 'Try to get some sleep in the meantime. Henning too.'
Katherina reluctantly accepted Mehmet's suggestion and put down the receiver. Henning seemed relieved to return to his own room.
Katherina was extremely glad Mehmet had come with them. He had turned out to be the perfect guide; with lightning speed he'd made friends with the locals and developed a thorough knowledge of the city. It probably had to do with the colour of his skin, because she and Henning could hardly walk around unnoticed. Henning and Katherina had gone out to have a look at the library on the first day, before Henning got sick, but Katherina had been much too worried to enjoy exploring the impressive building.
Henning, on the other hand, had been overwhelmed at the sight of the enormous monument – even more so when they entered the huge reading room under the glass roof. They had exchanged glances at that moment. The energy presence was so massive that the hairs stood on end on the back of Katherina's neck. It was the same tingling feeling she'd had in the basement of Libri di Luca but ten times, even a hundred times stronger. Henning's eyes shone like a man who was newly in love.
Katherina stretched out on her bed and closed her eyes. Pau was their last chance, and there was nothing to do now but wait.
She must have fallen asleep after all, because when the hotel phone woke her, the sun had gone down.
'Mehmet here. We're waiting for you in the lobby.'
Still slightly groggy, Katherina got out of bed and went into the small bathroom. She washed her face and pulled her red hair into a knot at the nape of her neck. Then she left the room and went downstairs.
Henning was still as pale as a corpse, but even so he mustered a smile when he caught sight of Katherina. Mehmet, who was once again wearing the head-dress, led them through streets that were now almost deserted. Only when they were further down in the city, closer to the harbour, did they find tourist shops that were still open and much more life on the streets.
The buildings surrounding Hotel Seaview were all taller, so the hotel looked like it was shrivelling up in their shadow. The facade was in disrepair with the paint peeling off in big patches and the shutters faded. It might once have been possible to see the ocean from Hotel Seaview, but that was long ago. Only the lights on the hotel sign gave any indication that the building was still in use, along with a couple of double doors that were open, welcoming them inside.
The lobby floor was marble, while the walls had coverings ranging from wallpaper to wooden panelling to a heavy velvet tapestry that hung from the ceiling. The front desk was made of dark wood as shiny as a mirror; on top stood a highly polished brass bell. On the wall behind were mirrors in gold frames as well as pigeon holes containing keys to every room.
There was no one behind the counter, so all three of them walked silently through the lobby and up a red-carpeted staircase. Every inch of the walls was covered with paintings in ostentatious gold frames.
Not until they reached the third floor did they dare speak.
'Three-oh-five,' said Mehmet, pointing down the corridor, which on this floor had white walls and a pink marble floor.
'Are you sure he's there?' whispered Katherina.
'Nessim said Pau would be in his room now, for about an hour,' replied Mehmet in a low voice.
'How can he be so sure about that?'
'He knows the front-desk clerk here. Apparently they all know each other. At any rate, he was told that ten of the guests are due to be picked up by a minibus in an hour.'
Katherina didn't care for this plan of theirs. She thought it seemed overly optimistic to just stroll right into a hotel filled with Lectors and expect to interrogate someone without anyone else noticing. 'How do you plan to stop him from slipping through our fingers?'
Mehmet stuck his hand under his robes and pulled out a gun. 'It's a toy,' he assured her. 'I'm just going to scare him a bit.' Mehmet smiled. 'But it looks like the real McCoy, doesn't it?'
Katherina and Henning positioned themselves on either side of the door marked 305, while Mehmet knocked. He was holding the gun in his hand, but behind his back.
'What is it?' they heard from inside the room. It was definitely Pau's voice.
'Are you ready?' called Mehmet, disguising his voice.
They heard footsteps approaching the door.
'Ready? What are you talking about?'
The key was turned in the lock and the door opened.
In the doorway stood Pau. He was wearing a long, cream-coloured robe with a snake-patterned black border around the sleeves and hem. The first thing Pau saw was Mehmet in full Arab regalia. He looked the man up and down in astonishment.
'Who the hell are you?' he asked angrily, but at that instant Mehmet whipped out the gun and aimed it at Pau's forehead. Terrified, he backed away, followed closely by Mehmet. Katherina and Henning entered the room.
'You!' cried Pau when he saw them. 'Shit.'
36
Something about Katherina's expression was worrying Jon. Her green eyes had been filled with a
mixture of relief and astonishing warmth. How could she believe that such a ploy would still work? Was it a ploy? If he didn't know better, he would say her gaze had been filled with love. Love for him. He shook his head as if to shake off the uncertainty that had seeped into his mind.
'Are you okay?' asked Remer from the driver's seat.
After sending Poul Holt and the red-haired man after Katherina, Remer had hurried Jon back to the car. On the way they once again saw Katherina, this time running away from the marketplace. She saw them too. Jon was struck by her hesitation when she noticed them. For a moment she seemed frozen to the spot in the noonday heat. Then she looked straight at Jon for one last time before she disappeared down a side street.
'I'm fine,' he said moodily.
He noticed Remer glancing at him in the rear-view mirror. Jon was sitting on the back seat, looking out at the city as it passed. There were so many people on the streets. How was it possible that he had run into Katherina, of all people? Was she tailing them? Planning to catch him off guard by turning up at the marketplace? It seemed unlikely. Her surprised reaction looked genuine.
Remer hadn't waited for the two other men to come back. He started up the car at once and drove off without Poul Holt and the red-haired man, as if Jon were in grave danger. Jon thought he was overreacting. What could Katherina do? On the other hand, he was glad that the Order stood behind him and offered protection. It made him feel important but also a little helpless, as if he wasn't capable of taking care of himself.
He couldn't get Katherina's expression out of his mind. There was something inside him that had been awakened by that moment when their eyes met. As if a fist had struck him square on the chest, knocking all the air out of him and making it impossible for him to breathe. Maybe she really was dangerous after all.
'How do you think she managed to find us?' he asked without taking his eyes off the side window.
'Luck,' said Remer. 'Maybe they have spies in Egypt. Who knows?'
The Library of Shadows Page 37