Death on Tour

by Janice Hamrick

  “I figured we needed to keep our strength up,” he said.

  “Well, as long as it’s for medicinal purposes,” I agreed.

  I sat down beside him. He twisted the top off a beer and handed it to me, then opened his own. He clinked his bottle lightly against mine.

  “Here’s to figuring this thing out,” he said.

  “Here’s to you not being a creepy murdering smuggler.”

  He laughed, but looked at me searchingly. “Did you really suspect me?” I could tell it stung a little.

  I grinned. “Just as much as you suspected me.”

  He looked sheepish. “At least I had a reason. Anni had told me she’d heard something about sisters being involved. You and Kyla seemed to fit the description.”

  “We’re not sisters,” I said automatically. Still, something niggled at the back of my mind, something I thought I should know, but couldn’t quite grasp. “Anyway, I had reasons, too. You’re a terrible liar, so it was obvious your whole cover story was fake from the start. Then you’re running around, speaking to the locals, vanishing at times. What was I supposed to think?”

  “And now I’m off the list?” He said it casually, but I could tell it mattered.

  “It finally dawned on me that if you suspected me, then you didn’t know what was going on either. Besides, I didn’t want it to be you.”

  He smiled suddenly, a blindingly attractive smile that made my heart turn over.

  “So what have you got there?” he asked with a nod to the bag.

  “Okay, you’re not allowed to judge me. Well, you can, but you have to keep it to yourself. Plus, you can help me figure out what to do with this.”

  “What is it? And what are you talking about?”

  I was embarrassed. “It’s Millie’s bag.”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “See? You’re judging me. I found it, and then I didn’t know what to do with it.”

  “Okay, fine. I’m not judging you. Why didn’t you just turn it in to Anni?”

  “I didn’t want her to think I’d been snooping. I was going to leave it on the bus, but then there just wasn’t a good time.”

  “Okay, well, what’s in it?”

  “A bunch of stolen stuff and her travel diary. And probably the reason she was killed, if I could just figure it out.”

  I dumped the bag onto the table, then held up the items one by one. “Fiona’s or Dawn’s hairbrush. Lydia’s cigarette lighter. Jerry’s or Keith’s pen. Yvonne’s coin purse.” I put each item back in the bag as I named it.

  He whistled. “What a horrible little thief.”

  “She had my lip balm, too, but I took that back,” I said, glancing at him a little defiantly. “On the first evening in the hotel, I saw her rooting through a bag that I’m pretty sure didn’t belong to her. And the next day on the bus, I caught her going through mine. I think she probably went through everyone’s things. And I think she saw something that she shouldn’t have seen.”

  We sat in silence for a moment.

  “I guess we’ll never know what that was,” he said, looking grim.

  “Maybe not. But look at this.” I picked up the red notebook and opened it to the entry about the smuggling.

  He read it and sat up straight. He began flipping through the pages. I remembered the entry about the sisters and felt myself blush. It was too much to hope he didn’t notice it.

  “She was pretty spiteful,” I said. “That bit about Kyla and me. Not true.”

  He had the look of someone who has solved a puzzle, that aha! look you get when you finally get the math problem. Then his expression changed and a little crease appeared between his eyebrows.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing. But now I’ve got an idea at least. We might have another case of mistaken identity.” He drained his beer and rose to his feet. “I need to check up on a couple of things, but this is exactly what I needed. You’re wonderful!”

  I stood too, more out of bewilderment than anything. “What idea? What did you see?”

  He didn’t answer, and before I knew it, he was escorting me to the door. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll give this stuff to Anni, and she’ll be able to get everything back to the rightful owners.”

  “Wait, what are you going to do?” I asked.

  “Check on just a couple of things. I need to make some calls.”

  “But—” I started.

  He interrupted. “I’ll see you later this evening, okay? I’ll tell you everything, if I get it figured out. And you and I still have a lot to talk about.”

  We were in the hallway now, and he was closing his door behind us. He started for the staircase, leaving me standing stunned by the door, still holding my half-finished beer. I wasn’t done talking. I hadn’t even gotten to my suspicions about DJ or the odd behavior of Jerry. He was almost to the stairs when he pivoted back around, grabbed me by the shoulders, and kissed me. A hard, quick, wonderful kiss. Then he was gone before I could move, taking the steps two at a time.

  I stood there a moment, still feeling the pressure from his warm lips against mine. What the hell was that? A thank-you kiss, a good-bye kiss, or something else? And how absolutely aggravating. The fact that it was the best kiss I’d had in years, possibly forever, just made it all the more annoying. What the hell had just happened, where was he going, and why the hell did he think he could just scamper off without letting me know what he had discovered? In fact, who the hell did he think he was? I ground my teeth together, then started up the stairs to the sundeck. It was time to wake up Kyla and get ready to go to Karnak.

  Besides, I needed to vent.

  Chapter 14

  KARNAK AND CHAOS

  The late afternoon sun cast a burnished ruddy glow over our little group as we gathered at the bus to drive to the ancient temple of Karnak. This was to be the grand finale of our trip, the most massive ancient religious site in the world. Unlike most Egyptian monuments, which were the work of a single ruler, Karnak was the awe-inspiring achievement of over thirty pharaohs, ruling over a period of thirteen hundred years. Much of the history of Egypt was represented in the vast halls of ruined Karnak, and I wanted to see it more than anything else we had seen so far.

  My headache, mostly forgotten while I talked with Alan, was back and throbbing dully just behind my eyes. I had gulped a couple of aspirin before coming downstairs, but they hadn’t kicked in yet. Nevertheless, I was determined not to let it slow me down or make me less alert. For a reason I couldn’t define, I felt I couldn’t afford to miss anything tonight. On the other hand, I had no idea what I should be looking for, so I attempted to covertly scan everyone and everything. I bumped into Kyla a couple of times before she pinched my arm.

  “What is wrong with you? Watch where you’re going.”

  Mohammad stood beside the bus steps next to Anni, who was counting us off as we climbed aboard. I shivered a little as I went past him. A sheen of sweat on his brow caught the light and his shoulders were stiff with guilty tension. Or, to be fair, he was hot in his heavy houndstooth jacket, and he was just praying to get this out-of-control tour finished before anything else happened.

  I tried to reel in my imagination. Although I was practically positive he was up to something, had he really killed two people and attacked me twice? Here, in the air-conditioned interior of our luxury coach, it seemed so unlikely. I turned my attention to my fellow passengers. After all, one of them was a smuggler and possibly a murderer.

  The Petersons, with their two teenage sons, were already in their seats midway down the aisle. I considered and dismissed them. They were excited, happy, and just so normal. Besides, I liked the boys, and their parents had their hands full just trying to keep up with their kids. No time for smuggling.

  Dawn and Keith Kim climbed up next. Keith was busy with his digital camera, trying to reattach the huge lens as he followed his wife down the aisle. She glanced over her shoulder at him, half exasperated, half amused. I wouldn’
t give very good odds on their marriage lasting, but they seemed like ordinary tourists, just along for the ride.

  Jerry and Kathy Morrison followed. Kathy looked like a jackal about to bite the head off a meerkat, and Jerry’s expression was sour. Maybe he was the meerkat. She was still limping a little from her fall at Abu Simbel, and I noticed she now wore a pair of flat espadrilles below her ACE bandage. They sat in the seat right behind Anni’s, taking advantage of injury to claim a front seat even when it wasn’t their turn. None of us would have begrudged it or even given it a second thought if Jerry hadn’t pounced on it with a smug proprietary air as though daring one of us to challenge him.

  The Carpenters followed, Lydia, then Jane, then Ben. They moved quickly to the very back seat, which stretched across the aisle so that all three of them could sit side by side. Jane looked pinched and, well … frightened. And the way Lydia and Ben always flanked her like bodyguards seemed strange. Were they being supportive or were they actually protecting her? And from what? If she was really just their niece from Australia, then their behavior made no sense. On the other hand, if she was an impostor on the run from the Egyptian authorities, then their actions made sense, but hardly explained who she was and why they were helping her. The fact that Ben and Lydia were so nice and so ordinary made it that much harder to believe that anything criminal was going on.

  DJ and Nimmi boarded next, DJ in full flow about the wonders that Nimmi could expect to see at Karnak. To give her credit, Nimmi was responding enthusiastically. In fact, I had never seen her respond to her big husband with less than amused affection. I thought about her shoplifting attempt in the ship’s gift shop and of his constant haggling and buying sprees. Was Kyla right? Was there more to it than just exuberant fun? How easy would it be to hide a real antiquity inside a suitcase full of plaster junk? Their kindness and generosity did not necessarily preclude a little smuggling on the side. But violence and murder? I didn’t think so.

  As usual, Fiona and Flora arrived late and last. Mohammad had to help Flora up the stairs, although Fiona jerked away from him and refused his assistance. She looked as though she’d like to spit on his feet, and I wondered how he’d offended her. We were all tired after seven days of constant sightseeing, but the fatigue of travel had really caught up with the poor ditz duo. Flora’s polyester shirt was right-side out for a change, but she’d misaligned the buttons and one hem hung lower than the other. She had an odd manic gleam in her eyes behind the Coke-bottle glasses, and she was muttering to herself under her breath as she tottered down the aisle. On the other hand, she seemed cheerful about it. Fiona seemed less senile, but her black wispy hair stood at all angles as though she’d been pulling on it, and she seemed more stooped and beaten than I’d seen her before. It couldn’t be easy trying to keep her sister in line, I thought, feeling suddenly sympathetic. Looking at her, I imagined that she must have been tall and athletic in her youth. Actually, both of them must have been. Contrary to first impressions, they were not really little old ladies. They were big old ladies, now a little stooped and wrinkled, and slowly growing tired and confused. Growing old is a bitch. I hoped when I was like that, Kyla and I would still be giving old age the finger and traveling on buses around the world.

  Anni and Mohammad climbed on the bus, the door closed, and we started.

  “Where’s Alan?” I asked Kyla, keeping my voice low.

  She raised up in her seat a little, looking over the headrests. “He must have told Anni he wasn’t coming. You know she wouldn’t have left without him otherwise.”

  “Where is he, though? Why wouldn’t he have come with us?” I asked. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach that I couldn’t explain. Alan should be here.

  “How would I know?” asked Kyla. “Besides, I thought you trusted him now.”

  “Yes, that’s true. Mostly.” I looked out the window without really seeing. “It just doesn’t seem right for him to miss Karnak.”

  “Maybe he wasn’t feeling well. Maybe he had something else to do.”

  “Like what?” I asked. He was investigating something. Something he had thought of when I showed him Millie’s notebook. But what could it be?

  “Okay, maybe he didn’t have anything to do.”

  “No, that’s just it. I’m worried about him. Why wouldn’t he be here?”

  Kyla looked at me and shook her head. “You’ve got it so bad.”

  I refused to be distracted. “Maybe I do. But that’s not the point. I don’t think any of us should be alone with all this going on. We’ve already had two murders.”

  “Uh huh. Well there’s nothing you can do about it now. Too bad. You’ll just have to concentrate on your actual vacation.”

  I ignored the sarcasm. “No,” I said slowly, coming to a decision. “I’m going to follow Mohammad. I’m pretty sure he’s up to something too. You can stick close to the Carpenters.”

  She stared at me, appalled. “Tell me you’re joking.”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Look,” she went on. “Even if you’re right, it’s none of our business. The Carpenters are nice people. So they hang close to their niece, so what? She hasn’t been well—of course they are going to stay with her. And Mohammad.” She snorted. “For God’s sakes. Even if he is running some kind of illegal operation, what is it to you?”

  “He might be the one who hit me and stole my necklace,” I answered. “That makes it my business. Besides, what if he is smuggling out ancient artifacts?”

  “I thought that was DJ. Besides, I’m pretty sure the Egyptians are capable of protecting themselves. And you don’t have any reason to believe Mohammad hit you. You suspected Alan of the same thing. They can’t both have done it.”

  That was true. I knew now it wasn’t Alan, but I didn’t want to go into details on the bus. “Look, just keep the Carpenters in sight,” I whispered. “You’re right, it’s ridiculous, but just humor me.”

  “I don’t want you following Mohammad,” she said. “In the unlikely event that you’re right, it could be dangerous.”

  “I just want to know if he meets up with anybody. We’ll be in a public place. What could happen?”

  About ten minutes later, we were walking toward Karnak from the bus parking lot. I could see the enormous walls of the temple. From here, they seemed very plain and disappointing.

  Then we rounded a row of buses and found ourselves on the Avenue of the Sphinxes.

  What can I say? For a few magnificent moments, I forgot all about Mohammad, all about smuggling, all about murder. I was at Karnak. Ram-headed sphinxes, sitting in regal silence on low plinths, flanked both sides of the wide promenade approaching the temple complex. They guarded the entryway against all comers, ancient sentries carved of gray stone. Time, it seemed, was the only enemy they could not hold at bay. A few were only mildly worn, regal faces still watching with sightless eyes, but the heads of others had crumbled back into the sand, leaving only the long lion bodies intact. The voices of tourists, the endless camera clicks that filled the air had no meaning or power here. I stood mesmerized, but Kyla gave an exasperated sigh and tugged at my sleeve. We followed the others.

  As always, Anni gave us an educated, thorough tour of the place, but for once I could hardly listen. More than anywhere else we had visited, Karnak captured the very essence of Egypt and its immeasurable past. Stopping just inside the first pylon, we turned to see a huge mound of earth pressing against the massive wall.

  “Archaeologists were baffled for many years about how the ancient Egyptians built such enormous walls,” Anni said. “There were many theories, but no evidence. Considering the tools they had, the task of raising blocks of stone weighing hundreds and even thousands of pounds was unexplainable.”

  We all nodded in agreement. Even with hundreds of workers, how had they done it?

  She continued, gesturing to the pile of dirt resting against the walls. “The answer was here, at Karnak. The ancients used dirt mounds as ramps, pushing the blo
cks up the slope. They may even have used logs to help roll them up the hill. It was an unbelievable amount of backbreaking work, but easier than trying to lift the blocks, even if they had been able to build a device such as a crane. After the wall reached the highest point, the workers would move the mountain of dirt away. Very simple, but very clever. And for some unknown reason, they did not clear away this last pile, and so we learned their secret.”

  I smiled at the pride in her voice, pride in the discovery and pride in the cleverness of the ancients who created something lasting in a land that demanded every last resource just to stay alive. The mound of dirt, the humblest artifact in the whole complex, was perhaps the highest symbol of the intelligence and sacrifice that had been required.

  We followed Hello Kitty into the hypostyle hall and immediately forgot about dirt piles. Passing the second pylon, we found ourselves in a forest of stone columns, soaring sixty feet above our heads, standing in perfect rows. Each was carved like a papyrus plant, with elaborate leaves at the top, beautiful and mysterious. They looked slender and delicate until you approached more closely and got some idea of their actual size. Ten people joining hands could scarcely circle their bases. The roof they had supported centuries before had long since vanished, although high arched windows in a crumbling wall were evidence that once a second story had existed far above the ground. Remnants of faded paint adorned the undersides of the stones, and carvings of pharaohs and gods, battles and ceremonies, covered the walls. The tourists walking among the columns looked like tiny mice in a very large garden.

  I took a few photographs, but I knew I would never be able to capture the beauty and sheer scale of the hall. I glanced around at the group. All eyes were turned up. Except Mohammad’s. He was standing on the edge of the group, peering out into the growing dusk, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched. I thought he looked edgy and nervous. He suddenly looked in my direction, and I hastily turned away to take a picture of Kyla standing by a column.

  Anni waved Hello Kitty, and we followed her between low walls, past a huge obelisk, broken and lying on its side, and into an open courtyard. To the left, we could see a rectangular lake, full of blue water gradually deepening to gray and purple in the fading light. In the center of the courtyard, a giant scarab crouched on top of a large plinth. Around it, a dozen tourists walked in circles, some clockwise, some counterclockwise. Bemused, we stared.