by Wilbur Smith
he came up the ramp to where the five of them waited, he was followed by
two male secretaries.
He removed his dark glasses and tucked them into his breast pocket. As
he recognized Royan he smiled and lifted his hat, "Dr Al Simma - Royan!
You did it. Congratulations!" He took her hand and shook it warmly, not
relinquishing his grip as he looked directly at Nicholas.
"You must be Sir Nicholas Quenton Harper. I have been looking forward to
meeting you immensely. Won't you please introduce us, Royan?"
Royan could not meet Nicholas's accusing scrutiny as she said, "May I
present His Excellency, Atalan Abou Sin, Minister of Culture and Tourism
in the Egyptian government."
"You may indeed," said Nicholas coldly. "What an unexpected
pleasure,'Minister."
"I would like to express the thanks of the President and the people of
Egypt for returning to this country these recious relics of our ancient
but glorious history." He made a gesture that encompassed the stack of
ammunition crates.
"Please, think nothing of it," said Nicholas, but he never took his eyes
off Royan. She kept her face turned half-away from him.
"On the contrary, we think the world of what you have done, Sir
Nicholas." Abou Sin's smile was charming and urbane. "We are fully aware
of the expense to which you have been put, and we would not want you to
be out of pocket in this extraordinarily generous gesture of yours. Dr
Al Simma tells me that the expedition to recover these treasures for us
has cost you a quarter of a million sterling." He took an envelope from
his inside pocket, and proffered it to Nicholas.
"This is a banker's draft drawn on the Central Bank of Egypt. It is
irrevocable, and payable anywhere in the world.
It is for the sum of 1250,000.1
"Very generous of you, Your Excellency." Nicholas's voice was heavy with
irony as he slipped the envelope into his top pocket. "I presume this
was Dr Al Simma's suggestion?"
"Of course," beamed Abou Sin. "Royan holds you in the very highest
regard."
"Does she, now?" Nicholas murmured, still staring at her
expressionlessly.
"However, this other small token of our appreciation was the suggestion
of the President himself." The minister snapped his fingers and one of
his secretaries stepped forward with a leather-covered medal case, which
he opened before he isented it to Abou Sin.
re On a bed of red velvet nestled a magnificent decoration, a star
encrusted with seed pearls and tiny pay6 diamonds. In the Centre of the
star was a golden lion rampant.
Abou Sin lifted the star from its case and advanced on Nicholas. "The
Order of the Great Lion of Egypt, First Class, he announced, placing the
scarlet ribbon over his head. The star hung resplendent on Nicholas's
grubby shirt-front, heavily stained with sweat and dust and Nile mud.
Then the minister stood aside and made a gesture to the army colonel who
was standing to attention at the foot of the ramp. Immediately there was
an orderly rush of uniformed men up the ramp. The detachment of soldiers
obviously had their orders. First they picked up the litters on which
the wounded Ethiopians lay.
"I am glad that your pilot had the good Sense to radio ahead that you
had wounded men on board. Rest assured that they will receive the best
care available," Atalan Abou Sin promised as they were carried down to
the waiting ambulance.
Then the soldiers returned and began carrying the ammunition cases down
the ramp. They were loaded neatly into the three-tonner. Within ten
minutes Big Dolly's hold was bare and empty. A tarpaulin cover was roped
down securely over the back of the loaded truck. An escort of heavily
armed motorcyclists fell into formation around it, and then, with sirens
wailing, the little convoy roared away.
"Well, Sir Nicholas." Abou Sin held out his hand Courteously, and
Nicholas took it with an air of resignation.
am sorry to have taken you out of your way like this. I BMW
know that you will be anxious to continue on your journey, so I will not
detain you further. Is there anything I can do for you before you leave?
Do you have sufficient fueV
Nicholas glanced at Jannie, and he shrugged. "We have plenty of juice,
Thank you, sir."
Abou Sin turned back to Nicholas, "We are planning to build a special
annexe to the museum at Luxor to house these artefacts of Pharaoh Mamose
that you have returned to Egypt. In due course you will be receiving a
personal slid invitation from President Mubarak to attend, as an
honoured guest, the opening of that museum. Dr Al Simma, whom I am sure
you know has been appointed the new Director of the Department of
Antiquities, will be in charge of the museum. I am sure she will be
delighted to review the exhibits with you when you come back." He bowed
to Sapper and the two pilots.
"Go with God," he said, and went down the ramp.
Royan began to follow him, but Nicholas called softly after her.
"Royanl' She froze, and then turned her head slowly and reluctantly to
meet his eyes for the first time since they hadlanded.
"I didn't deserve that," he said, and then with a stab of emotion he
realized that she was weeping softly. Her lips quivered and the tears
ran slowly down her cheeks.
"I am sorry, Nicky," she whispered, "but you must have known that I am
not a thief. It belongs to Egypt, not to US."
"So everything that I thought there was between us was a lie?" he
demanded remorselessly.
"No!" she said. "I-' and then she broke off without finishing what she
was going to say. She ran down the ramp into the sunlight to where the
chauffeur was holding the back door of the limousine open for her. She
slipped on to the seat beside Abou Sin without looking back, and the
Cadillac pulled away and drove through the gate.
"Let's get the hell out of here, before these Gyppos change their
minds," said Jannie.
"What a splendid idea,'said Nicholas bitterly.
nce they were airborne again, Aswan Control cleared them for a direct
flight northwards to the Mediterranean coast. The four of them, Jannie
and Fred, Sapper and Nicholas, stayed together on the flight-deck and
watched the long green snake of the Nile crawl along their right
wingtip.
They spoke very little during this long leg of the flight.
Once Jannie said quietly, "So I can kiss my fee goodbye, I suppose?"
"I didn't really come along for the money," said Sapper, "but it would
have been nice to be paid. Baby needs new shoes."
Does anybody want a cup of tea?" Nicholas asked, as though he had not
heard.
"That would be nice," said Jannie. "Not as nice as the sixty grand that
you owe me, but nice anyway."
They flew over the battlefield of El Alamein, and even from. twenty
thousand feet they could pick out the twin monuments to the Allied and
German dead. Then the blue of the sea stretched ahead of them.
Nicholas waited until the Egyptian coast receded behind them and then he
let out a long, soft sigh.
", ye of little faith," he accused them, "'hen did I ever let you down?
Everybody gets paid in full., They all stared at him long and hard, and
then Jannie voiced their doubts. "How?" he asked.
"Give me a hand, Sapper," Nicholas invited, and started down the
staircase. Jannie could not control his curiosity and handed over the
controls to Fred. He followed the two Englishmen down to the lavatory on
the main deck.
Sapper and Jannie watched from the doorway as Nicholas took the
Leatherman tool from his pocket and lifted the cover of the chemical
toilet. Jannie grinned as Nicholas started to work on the screws,
holding the hidden panel in place. Big Dolly was a smugglers' aircraft,
and these little modifications were evidence of the pains that Jannie
and Fred had taken to adapt her to that role. There were a number of
these hidey-holes cunningly uilt into the engine housings and other
parts of the fuselage.
lj When they had flown back from Libya, the Hannibal bronzes had reposed
in the secret compartment behind this panel. The location of the panel
in the back of the toilet made it highly unlikely that any follower of
Islam would want to investigate such an unclean area.
"So that's what you were doing in here for so long," Jannie laughed as
Nicholas lifted out the panel. His grin faded as Nicholas reached into
the space beyond and carefully drew out an extraordinary object. "My
God, what is that?"
"The blue war crown of ancient Egypt," said Nicholas.
He handed it to Sapper. "Lay it on the bunk, but treat it carefully."
He reached into the compartment again, "And this is the Nemes crown." He
handed it to Jannie.
"And this is the red and white crown of the two kingdoms. And this is
the death-mask of Pharaoh Mamose.
Last but not least, this is the ushabd of the scribe Taita." The relics
lay on the fold-down bunk, and they stood and stared at them reverently.
"I have helped you bring out stone friezes and little bronze statues,'
said Jannie softly. "But notlTing like this before."
"But," Sapper shook his head, "the ammunition crates the Gyppos
offloaded at Aswan? What was in them?"
"Five one'gallon bottles of chemical for the toilet," said Nicholas,
"Plus half a dozen spare oxygen cylinders, just to make up weight."
"You switched them." Sapper beamed at him. "But how the hell did you
know that Royan was going to scupper us?"
"She was right when she said I must have known she was no thief. The
whole lark was out of character for her.
She is," he searched for the correct description, ( much too upright and
honest. Not at all like the present company."
"Thanks for the compliment," said Jannie drily, "but she must have given
you more reason than that to make you suspicious."
"Yes, of course." Nicholas turned to him. "The first real inkling I had
was when we came back from Ethiopia the first time, and she immediately
pushed off to Cairo. I guessed she was up to something. But I was
absolutely certain only when I learned that she had passed a message,
through Tessay, to the Egyptian Embassy in Addis. It was clear then that
she had alerted them to our return flight."
"The perfidious little bitch,'Jannie guffawed.
"Careful there!" said Nicholas stiffly. "She is a decent, honest and
patriotic young woman, warm-hearted and-' "Well, well!" Jannie winked at
Sapper. "Please excuse my slip."
nly two of the great crowns of ancient Egypt were set out on the
polished walnut conference table. Nicholas had placed them on the heads
of two genuine Roman marble busts that he had borrowed from a dealer
with whom he did regular business here in Zurich. He had drawn the
blinds over the tenth story windows, and arranged the lighting to show
the crowns to the best effect. The private conference room that he had
hired for the occasion was in the Bank Leu building on Bahnhofstrasse.
FT
While he waited alone for the arrival of his invited guest, he reviewed
his preparations and could find no fault with them. He went to the
full-length mirror on one wall and tightened the knot of his old
Sandhurst tie. The stitches had been removed from his chin. Mek Nimmur
had done a first-rate . oh, and the scar was neat and clean.
His suit had been made by his tailor in Savile Row, so it was in a muted
chalk stripe and had been worn enough to have acquired just the right
degree of casual bagginess. The only shiny items of his dress were the
hand-made shoes from Lobb of St. James's Street.
The intercom buzzed softly and Nicholas lifted the handset.
"There is a Mr Walsh to see you, Sir Nicholas," said the receptionist at
the desk in the bank lobby downstairs.
"Please ask him to come up."
Nicholas opened the door at the first ring and Walsh glowered at him
from the threshold.
"I hope you are not wasting my time, Harper. I have flown all the way
from Fort Worth." It was only thirty hours since Nicholas had telephoned
him at his ranch in Texas.
Walsh must have jumped into his executive jet almost immediately to have
got here so soon.
"Not Harper. Quenton-Harper,'said Nicholas.
"Okay then, Quenton-Harper. But cut the crap,'Walsh said angrily. "What
have you got for me?"
"I am also delighted to see you again, Mr Walsh." Nicholas stood aside.
"Do come in."
Walsh strode into the room. He was tall and roundshouldered, his jowls
drooping and wrinkled and his nose beaky. With his hands clasped behind
his back.he looked like a buzzard on a fence pole. Forbes magazine
listed his net worth at 1.7 billion dollars.
Two men followed him into the room, and Nicholas recognized both of
them. The antiquarian world was very small and incestuous. One of them
was the professor of
ancient history at Dallas University. Walsh had endowed the chair. The
other was one of the most respected and knowledgeable antiques dealers
in the United States.
Walsh stopped so suddenly that they both ran into him from behind, but
he did not seem to notice.
"Son of a gun!" he said softly, and his eyes lit with the flames of
fanaticism. "Are those fakes?"
"As fake as the Hannibal bronzes and the Hammurabi has-relief you bought
from me," said Nicholas.
Walsh approached the exhibits as though they were the cathedral
communion plate and he the archbishop.
"These must be fresh," he whispered. "Otherwise I would have known about
them."
"Fresh out of the ground," Nicholas confirmed. "You are the first one to
have seen them."
"Mamose!" Walsh read the cartouche on the uraeus of the Nemes crown.
"Then the rumours are true. You have opened a new tomb."
"If you can call nearly four thousand years old new." Walsh and his
advisers gathered around the table, pale and speechless with shock.
"Leave us, Harper,'said Walsh. "I will call you when I am ready to talk
to you again."
"Sir Nicholas," he prompted the American.
Nicholas knew that he had the
upper hand now.
"Please leave us, Sir Nicholas," Walsh pleaded.
An hour later Nicholas sauntered back into the conference room. The
three men were seated around the table as though they could not bear to
be parted from the two great crowns. Walsh nodded at his minions and
they stood up and obediently but reluctantly filed from the room.
As soon as the door closed, Walsh asked brusquely, "How much?"
"Fifteen million US dollars,'Nicholas replied.
"That's seven and a half mill each."
"No, that's fifteen mill each. Thirty million the two'.
Walsh reeled in his chair. "Are you crazy, or something?"
"There are those who think so,'Nicholas smiled.
"Split the difference," said Walsh. "Twenty-two and a half."
Nicholas shook his head. "Not negotiable."
"Be reasonable, Harper!' "Reasonability has never been one of my vices.
Sorry Walsh stood up. "I am sorry too. Perhaps next time, Harper."
He clasped his hands behind his back and stalked to the door. As he
opened it, Nicholas called after him.
"Mr Walsh!'
He turned back eagerly. "Yes?"
"Next time you may call me Nicholas, and I shall call you Peter, as old
friends."
"Is that all you have to say?"
"Of course. What else is there?" Nicholas looked puzzled.
"Damn you," said Walsh, and came back to the table.
He dropped into his chair. "Damn you to hell and back!" He sighed and
pursed his lips, and then asked, "Okay.
How do you want it?"
"Two irrevocable bank drafts. Each for fifteen million." Walsh picked up
the intercom, and spoke into it.
"Please ask Monsieur Montfleuri, your chief accountant, to come up here"
he ordered dolefully.
Nicholas sat at his desk in his study at Quenton Park. He stared at the
panelling that covered the wall facing him. Although the panelling had
originally come from one of the Catholic abbeys dissolved by Henry VIII
in 1536 and had been bought by his grandfather almost a hundred years
ago, it was newly installed in this setting.
He reached under the top of his desk and pressed the hidden button of
the electronic control. A section of the panelling slid smoothly and
silently aside to reveal the armoured plate glass of the display cabinet
built into the wall behind it. At the same time the spotlights in the
ceiling lit automatically, and their beams fell on the contents of the