Haji beamed proudly. “Zizi is one of our few microbiologists on staff, which makes her a valuable addition to the museum, as well as highly sought after by the researchers. She’s also quite accomplished, having published several articles in the Egyptian Journal of Microbiology.”
“Wow. That’s cool.” Gwen’s face lit up. “I’m a microbiologist, too. I don’t typically examine ancient artifacts, though. I’m more of a microbiology-technology girl. I work at ComQuest in Baltimore with Elvis.”
Zizi smiled. “How fascinating. I hope we will have a chance to talk before you leave. I do enjoy meeting people in my field. I’m finishing up my PhD. My thesis is on infectious diseases. I hope to work at the Global Disease and Detection Regional Center here in Cairo someday.”
Jeez. She was a doctoral candidate, too?
Slash spoke up. “Are you able to provide more detail as to what Arthur was studying here at the museum?”
“Of course.” Zizi cocked her head, studying him. “And you are?”
“Slash.” He stepped forward, kissed her hand adeptly, murmuring something to her in Arabic.
I looked at him in astonishment. I’d had no idea he spoke Arabic.
Zizi seemed impressed as well. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Slash.”
The way she said his name was the same way I said chocolate cake. Like I was ready to dig in and eat it all up.
“I’d be happy to offer whatever assistance I can,” she continued. “Arthur was searching for a specific artifact.”
“Which was?”
“I don’t know. Truthfully, I think he’d already found it, but he refused to confirm that or speak of it at all. The last few weeks here at the museum, he became quite secretive and, I’m sorry to say it, but a bit paranoid. Then, one day, without warning, he asked me to separate some spores he’d found.”
“Found where?” Slash asked.
“I don’t know. He didn’t say. He said it was an experiment. Since separating spores is a simple activity for a microbiologist, I assisted him as requested.”
Elvis crossed his arms. “You had to think that was an unusual request. Had he asked you to do anything like that before?”
“Never. But Arthur had been acting a bit erratically, so I wasn’t as surprised as you might think.”
“Do you know what kind of spores they were?” Slash asked.
“Truthfully, I’d never seen anything like them before. At first I simply assumed they were from a plant he’d been growing in his room. I took precautions, naturally, but after he presented me with the container holding the spores and I’d conducted the separation, I was concerned I hadn’t taken enough precautions.”
“Why?”
“Because I suspected the sample wasn’t recent. I’d never seen anything like those spores. I confronted him about the origin of the finding, but he was evasive in his answer. I also found it strange that he had stored the spores next to some leaves from a plant.”
Elvis and Gwen exchanged a glance. Gwen leaned forward, her eyes lighting with interest. “What did the plant look like?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It wasn’t special, if that’s what you’re asking. It was a common plant from the Nile. I didn’t know why he was growing it or where he came across it, but I suspected it had something to do with his research and the spores. My professional opinion is that those spores did not come from that plant. I’m not sure of the association or if there even is one. He never explained it.”
“And he never said where he’d found them?” Elvis asked. “In or on an artifact, for example?”
“Absolutely not. If Arthur had confirmed they were from an artifact, especially one from the museum, I would have alerted Haji immediately. Arthur didn’t give me any indication whatsoever where he’d found them, but I had my suspicions. Still, without evidence, I couldn’t prove it.”
“Is there anything you can think of that might help us pinpoint the origin of the spores?” I asked.
“Maybe. I must think about it.”
Slash pushed off the wall. “It might help if you could show us some of the exhibits or items he was studying shortly before he disappeared.”
“I could do that.” She lowered her eyelashes at him. “Even better, I’ll make a list for you. If you are willing to wait, I’m off work in an hour and a half. I’ll even take you to where he lived before he stopped coming to the museum.”
Slash smiled. “Thanks. We’d be most grateful, Zizi.”
I wanted to protest that she didn’t have to go to that much trouble, but I was pretty sure I’d be the only one on that ship. Everyone else seemed riveted by her. Personally I didn’t like the idea of Zizi hanging around us. Especially not around Slash. But if it helped us find Arthur Zimmerman sooner rather than later, I had no choice but to suck it up.
As she swept out the office, she shot Slash a final glance. There was no mistaking her interest. I only saw the back of his head, so I had no idea how he responded. I tried to ignore the bad feeling creeping through my stomach.
We’d just gotten to Egypt and I already wanted to leave.
Chapter Seventeen
Elvis thanked Haji for his time and we filed out of his office.
As Slash and I walked side by side, I lowered my voice. “We already have the list. Why do we have to get it from her?”
“Let’s see what she gives us. If she omits anything, it might be significant.”
“Why would she omit anything?”
“Why, indeed?”
Slash steered us toward the ticket booth. “No sense in wasting the opportunity while we wait for Zizi. Let’s look around.”
We were all in agreement with that, so we purchased four tickets.
“I can’t wait to see some of the artifacts here.” Gwen excitedly waved her ticket in the air. “It’s been a lifelong dream to see the treasures and artifacts from King Tut’s tomb.”
“You came to the right place, then,” I said.
“Come on, Elvis.” Gwen grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the stairs. “Let’s not waste a minute.”
After they left, I carefully studied the museum map, determining what I would like to see first. I calculated approximately how much time I would have per exhibit within the hour and a half we had allotted before Zizi met with us.
I looked up from the map and saw Slash smiling at me, amused.
“What?” I asked.
“Are you done mapping out our course of action?”
“Why? Are you going where I’m going? You aren’t going to just wait here for Zizi?” I don’t know why I suddenly felt so cranky. Jet lag had never affected me so adversely before.
“I’m going with you, of course. But perhaps we should start sometime soon?”
I studied him for a moment. “You’re implying that I’m wasting time. I’m not. Planning is never a waste of time.” Still, I folded the map and put it in the back pocket of my jeans. “But it so happens I’m ready. Are you sure you don’t want to know what I’m going to see before you commit to accompanying me?”
His smile widened. “No.”
“Oh. Because you’ve already been here, right? You’ve already seen everything.”
“Actually, I haven’t been to this museum before.”
“But you speak Arabic.”
“I do not speak Arabic. I know a few phrases, that’s all.”
“Have you been to Cairo before?”
“I have. For work.”
I looked at him for a minute, but he wasn’t offering any more information. Instead he just looked at me as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Fine. Well, this is my thinking. I know the big draws are the artifacts from King Tut’s tomb and the mummy room. That’s where Elvis and Gwen are starting. But I’d
rather take a look at the pre-dynastic and Old Kingdom objects first. I mean we are talking seriously ancient—as far back as 10,000 BC. There are only a few places in the world you can see artifacts that ancient. This is one of them.”
He pulled me in for a hug and kissed my hair. “That would have been my first choice, too. Let’s go.”
We walked around, examining the fascinating exhibits. I viewed spectacular royal sedan chairs, hieroglyphics taken from numerous tombs, and several exquisite statuettes of ancient pharaohs. I quickly got lost in the fascinating history. It felt like only five minutes had passed when Slash tugged on my arm.
“We’re getting close to the time to meet Zizi.”
I glanced at my watch. “Already?” Had my calculations been that off or had I just lost track of time?
“Unfortunately, yes.”
I really didn’t want to leave the exhibits, I had no desire to see Zizi again, and I’d only seen a tiny part of the entire museum. Disappointment swept through me. “Can we come back sometime?”
“Absolutely.”
We headed back for the lobby, passing several giant and imposing statues. “This place is really incredible.”
“That it is. It could, however, use a serious update on several fronts, though. The exhibits are rather cluttered and not always well identified. It could also use a thorough cleaning and paint job. Security is awful.”
“Leave it to you to notice the security. I heard they’re building a new museum closer to the pyramids in Giza which will house a lot of these exhibits. Maybe that’s why this place is getting so run-down. They are spending all of their money on the new museum.”
“So I’ve heard. I am curious to see it when it’s finished. From what I’ve heard, it’s expected to be state-of-the-art with a lot of technology upgrades. It should be finished soon.”
“That’s pretty amazing.”
We waited five minutes before Elvis and Gwen showed up. Gwen was practically jumping up and down, she was so excited.
“OMG. Lexi, Slash, I can’t believe it. I saw mummies, scarabs, gold statues and ancient tablets. It was like a dream come true. Way cool, right, Elvis?”
“Totally.”
“What did you see, Lexi?”
I started to tell her when I spotted Zizi making her way toward us. The museum lobby fell mostly quiet as everyone stopped whatever they were doing to watch her. Again, the comparison to Nefertiti leaped out at me. It seemed illogical that she could command that kind of attention based on her beauty alone, but she did.
Zizi held a folder in her hand which she gave to Elvis as she reached us. “I made a list of the most recent exhibits and items he was studying. I hope it will help.”
“Thank you.” He took the folder. “I appreciate your assistance.”
She looked around at us, her glance resting on Slash. Her gaze always seemed drawn to him. Not that I noticed. Much.
“Are you ready to go to Arthur’s place or at least where he used to live? He occasionally asked me to drop off copies of documents to his room so I know where it is.”
“How far is it?” Slash asked.
“Not far. We can walk.”
Slash spread out his hand. “Excellent. After you.”
Chapter Eighteen
“There’s a shortcut this way,” Zizi said, taking us into a narrow alley. Luckily, the way offered a bit of shade. Elvis’s cheeks were red from the heat and Gwen’s bangs were stuck to her forehead. I was pretty sure I was getting sunburned in spite of the enormous amount of sunscreen I’d slathered on my skin.
Only Slash and Zizi looked cool and collected.
Once in the alley, some kids ran past, laughing and pushing each other. They bumped into us giggling. As they ran past, Slash caught one of the boys by the back of the collar and lifted him off his feet in one easy motion.
The boy screeched, feet dangling, while his friends dashed off without a backward glance. As I looked on, I saw a strange expression on Slash’s face. He was staring at the boy, but his focus was far away. For a moment, it actually scared me.
“Slash,” Elvis finally said. “What are you doing?”
I hurried over and put a hand on Slash’s arm. The little boy was still kicking his legs, struggling to get free.
“Slash?”
He blinked and then looked at the boy. He held out a hand. “Give it back.”
The boy shouted something as Zizi joined me at Slash’s side.
“Good catch,” Zizi said. She faced the boy and lifted a finger under his chin. Forced to look at her, she said something softly to him in Arabic. He stopped struggling and reached under his robe, handing her a green wallet.
“Hey, that’s mine,” Gwen said.
Elvis and I quickly checked to see if our wallets were still with us. We both sighed when they were. Elvis showed me his wallet was chained to the belt in his jeans.
“Smart,” I said, and he smiled.
Zizi tossed the wallet to Gwen. “Zip your purse and hug it tight.”
Gwen did as she said and Slash set the boy down. The kid streaked down the alley faster than I’d thought possible. I held my purse under my arm a bit tighter.
“Street rats,” Zizi murmured and continued leading us toward our destination.
I slid up next to Slash. “How did you know?”
He paused for a moment, as if considering the question. “I’m not sure. But lucky for Gwen, I did.”
“No kidding,” she said. “All my money and credit cards are in there. Thanks, Slash.”
We came out of the relative shade of the alley into the heat of the street. “This way,” Zizi said. We went about two more blocks and stopped at a small gray building.
“It’s a hostel.” She pushed open the door. “It’s popular with many of the researchers.”
We entered the building. While it didn’t have air-conditioning, it felt good to be out of the direct sunlight. Zizi headed for what looked like a small reception area. An elderly woman rose from behind the counter and they spoke for a few minutes.
Zizi returned to us with a copper key dangling from her fingers. “She knows me. She said we could go take a look at the room. No one has rented it since Arthur left.”
We climbed a set of stone stairs to the next floor. She led us down a hallway and stopped at a door with a small plaque that said 202. She inserted the key and we entered the room. It was small with a single bed, dresser and two desks backed up to each other to make one large working space. There was no air-conditioning, but a large fan stood on the floor next to the bed. I peeked my head into a tiny bathroom. Dingy and dark. There was no balcony and Slash was not able to open the window.
Elvis was looking through the drawers in the dresser, but they were all empty.
Gwen examined the closet. “Nothing in here.”
“Did he pay his full rent and check out?” Elvis asked Zizi. “Or did she have to clear his things out?”
“She said he paid until the end of the month. When she came to check on him, the room had been cleared out. He didn’t tell her he was leaving. He didn’t tell me either. He just stopped showing up at the museum.”
Elvis got on his knees and looked under the bed and dresser, but found nothing of significance. After a few minutes we filed out of the room and Zizi locked it up.
Slash walked next to Zizi as we headed down the hallway. “Can you ask the lady whether or not Arthur had any regular visitors during his stay or has anyone come around asking about him since he’s been gone? Ask her, too, whether he had any habits, such as always eating at the same café or restaurant for breakfast or dinner or taking walks along any particular paths.”
“You’re worried something has happened to him?” she said.
“I think we need to explore every ave
nue.”
“Of course.”
Zizi returned the key and spoke for a few more minutes with the lady. When she returned, we walked outside.
“She said no one asked about him and other than me, and he had no visitors that she saw. Her grandson often works the desk, so she said she’ll ask him later and let me know if she hears of anyone.”
“Good.”
“She did say one other thing. He liked to frequent a café not far from here for breakfast and dinner. Come on, I’ll show you which one.”
We trudged along the sidewalks, and when there were none, the street.
“Here,” she said, stopping in front of a small café.
I raised an eyebrow. “The Ramses Café? Really?”
“Can’t speak for the food, but the coffee is good.” She pointed to an empty table. “Sit down and I’ll have a chat with the owner.”
We sat at a table beneath an old, faded umbrella. Gwen’s chair was uneven and she kept rocking back and forth in it. A young guy came out and took our order for something to drink. It was too hot to eat, so we stuck to liquid. We all got cold drinks except for Slash, who ordered coffee.
“Don’t expect ice,” Slash warned us.
“Bummer,” Gwen said, lifting her red bangs off her forehead.
In a surprisingly short time, the waiter brought our drinks. Slash took a sip of the coffee and closed his eyes. “Excellent.”
For Slash, excellent coffee meant you could start your car with it. I wasn’t brave enough to try even a small sip.
After a few minutes, Zizi came back out. We’d saved her a seat at the table and she slipped into it. All the guys instinctively sat straighter. I tried not to roll my eyes. I had no idea how she looked so cool and lovely, but she did. Maybe after living here for so long her body had adjusted. Mine had not. Sweat pooled around my hairline and dripped down the back of my neck. It felt like every pore was oozing moisture.
“I’ve got interesting news,” she said.
Elvis pushed his Coke aside. “Good or bad?”
“Both. The bad news is another man was here two days ago looking for your father.”
No Living Soul Page 11