Текст книги "The Seventh Scroll"

Автор книги: Wilbur Smith

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passing it to Royan. She took a swallow and scalded her lips.

Good!, she sighed, and then cocked her head. "This time it is definitely

Big Dolly I can hear."

Nicholas listened and then nodded. "I think you are right." He stood up

and went to the radio. "Big Dolly. You are audible."

"Five minutes to landing, Pharaoh."

From where he stood, Nicholas looked down the long strip. Mek's men were

retreating, flitting like smoke through the thorn scrub and firing back

in the direction of the river. Nogo was pushing them hard now.

"Hurry along, Jannie he murmured, and then adjusted his expression as

he turned back to the two women. "Plenty of time to finish your tea.

Don't waste it."

The rumble of Big Dolly's engines was louder than the sound of gunfire

now. Then suddenly she was in sight, coming in so low that she seemed to

brush the tops of the thorn trees. She was enormous, Her wingspan

reached from one side of the narrow overgrown strip to the other. Jannie

touched her down short, and she blew out a long rolling cloud of brown

dust behind her as he put the engines into reverse thrust.

Big Dolly went barrelling past the clump of acacia, and Jannie waved to

them from the high cockpit. The moment he had bled off enough speed, he

stood on his footbrakes and rudder bar. Big Dolly spun around in her own

length and came roaring back down the strip towards them, her loading

ramp beginning to drop open even before she reached them.

Fred was waiting in the open hatchway, and he ran down to'help Sapper

and Nicholas with the wounded men on the litters. It took only a few

minutes to carry them up the ramp, and then they started loading the

ammunition crates. Even Royan gave a hand, staggering up the ramp with

one of the lighter crates clutched to her chest.

A mortar shell exploded a hundred and fifty yards beyond the parked

Hercules, and then half a minute later a second shell fell a hundred

yards short.

"Ranging shots," Nicholas grunted, picking up a crate under each arm and

running up the ramp.

"They have us in their sights now," Fred shouted. "We have to get out of

here. Leave the rest of the cargo. Let's go, GoV

There were only four crates still lying under the NMI-, MOrJL

spreading branches of the acacia, and both Nicholas and Sapper ignored

the order and ran back down the ramp.

and raced back.

They snatched up a crate under each arm "Me ramp was starting to rise

and Big Dolly's engines roared as she began to taxi out. They hurled the

crates over the tailboard of the rising ramp and then jumped up to grab

a handhold and pull themselves aboard. Nicholas was the first up and

reached down to haul Sapper in.

When he looked back, Tessay was a small, lonely figure under the

acacias.

"Give Mek my love and thanks," he bellowed at her.

CY

ou know how to contact us," she screamed back.

"Goodbye, Tessay' Royan's voice was lost in the blast of the great

engines, and the dust blew back in a sheet over Tessay so that she was

forced to cover her face and turn away. The ramp hissed closed on its

hydraulic. rams, and cut out their last glimpse of her.

Nicholas put an arm around Royan's shoulders and hustled her down the

length of the cavernous cargo hold and into one of the jum seats at the

entrance to the cockpit.

"Strap yourself in!" he ordered, and ran up the steps to the cockpit.

"Thought you had decided to stay behind," Jannie greeted him mildly,

without looking up from his controls.

"Hold tight! Here we go."

Nicholas clung on to the back of the pilot's seat as bank of Jannie and

Fred between them pushed forward the throttle levers to full power, and

Big Dolly built up speed until she was careering down the strip.

Looking over Jannie's shoulder" Nicholas saw the vague shapes of men in

camouflage battledre.ss amongst . Some of them the thorn scrub at the

end of the runwa raced tow huge aircraft as it ards were firing at the

them.

"Those popguns aren't going to hurt her much," Jannie . "Big Dolly is a

tough old lady." And  – lifted her grunted  into the air.

They flashed over the heads of the enemy troops on the ground, and

Jannie set her nose high in the climb attitude.

"Welcome aboard! folks, thank you for flying Africair.

Next stop Malta," Jannie drawled, and then his voice rose sharply, "Oh,

oh! Where did this little piss-cat come from?"

Directly ahead of them the Jet Ranger rose out of the thick scrub on the

banks of the Nile. The angle of the helicopter's climb meant that the

approaching Hercules was hidden from the pilot's view, and he continued

to rise directly into their path.

"Only five hundred feet and a hundred and ten knots on the clock," Fred

shouted a warning at his father from the right'hand seat. "Too low to

turn."

The jet Ranger was so close that Nicholas could clearly see Tuma Nogo in

the front seat, his spectacles reflecting the sunlight like the eyes of

a blind man, and his face freezing into a rictus of terror as he

suddenly saw the great machine bearing down on them. At the last

possible moment the pilot put his aircraft over in a wild dive to try to

ear It  nose of the approaching Hercules. It seemed impossible to avoid

the collision, but he managed to bank, the lighter, more manoeuvrable

machine over until it rolled almost on to its back. It slipped under the

belly of the Hercules, and the men in the cockpit of Jannie's plane

barely felt the light kiss of the two fuselages.

However, the helicopter was flung over on to its nose by the impact,

until it was pointing straight down at the earth only four hundred feet

below, While Big Dolly flew on, climbing away steadily on an even keel,

the pilot of the et Ranger struggled to control his crazily plummeting

machine. Two hundred feet above the earth the turbulence thrown out

astern by the massive T56,A-15 turbo-prop engines of the Hercules, each

rated at 4900 horsepower, struck the helicopter with the force of an

avalanche.

Like a dead leaf in an autumn gale she was swept away, spinning end over

end, and when she struck the ground her own engines were still squealing

at full power. On impact the fuselage crumpled like a sheet of aluminium

cooking foil, and Nogo was dead even before the fuel tanks exploded and

a fireball engulfed the jet Ranger.

As soon as Jannie reached safe manoeuvring altitude he brought Big Dolly

around on her northerly heading, and they could look back over the wing

at the Roseires airstrip falling away behind them. The column of black

smoke from the burning helicopter was tar-thick as it drifted away on

the light westerly wind.

"You did say they were the uglies?" Jannie asked. "So rather them than

us, then?"

nce Jannie had settled Big Dolly on her sailing low northerly heading,

and they were over the open deserted Sudanese plains, Nicholas went back

into the main hold.

"Let's get the wounded settled down comfortably , he an unbuckled their

safety belts suggested. Sapper and Roy and went back with him to attend

to the men lying where haste of the their litters had been dumped during

the getaway from Roseires.

After a while Nicholas left them to it and went forward  flight deck. He

to the small, well-stocked galley behind the soup and sliced hunks of

fresh bread opened some canned from the loaves he found in the

refrigerator. While the tea water boiled, he found his small emergency

pack, and took from it.the nylon wallet which contained his medicines

and drugs. From one of the vials he shook five white tablets into the

palm of his hand.

In the galley he crushed the tablets to powder, and when he poured tea

into two of the mugs he stiffed the powder in with it. Royan had enough

English blood in her veins never to be able to refuse a mug of hot tea.

After they had served soup and buttered toast to the wounded men, Royan

accepted her mug from Nicholas gratefully. While she and Sapper sipped

their tea, Nicholas went back to the flight deck and leaned over the

back of Jannie's seat.

"What is our flying time to the Egyptian border?" he asked.

"Four hours twenty minutes,'Jannic told him.

"Is there any way that we can avoid flying into Egyptian air

space?"Nicholas wanted to know.

Jannie swivelled around in his seat and stared at him with astonishment.

"I suppose we could make a turn out to the west, through Gadaffi-land.

Of course, it would mean an extra seven hours' flying time, and we would

probably run out of fuel and end up making a forced landing somewhere

out there in the Sahara." He lifted an eyebrow at Nicholas. "Tell me, my

boy, what inspired that stupid question?"

"It was just a rare thought,'Nicholas said.

"Let it be not merely rare, but extinct," Jannie advised.

"I don't want to hear it asked again, ever."

Nicholas slapped his shoulder. "Put it out of your mind." When he went

back into the main hold, Sapper and Royan were sitting on two of the

fold-down bunks that were bolted to the main bulkhead. Royan's empty tea

mug stood on the deck at her feet. Nicholas sat down beside her, and she

reached up and touched the bloodstained dressing that covered his chin.

"You had better let me see to that." Her fingers were deft and cool on

his hot inflamed skin as she cleaned the T

stitches with an alcohol swab and then placed a fresh plaster over them.

Nicholas felt a strong twinge of guilt as he submitted to her

ministrations.

However, it was Sapper who was the first to show the effects of the

doped tea. He lay back gently and closed his eyes, then a soft snore

vibrated his lips. Minutes later Royan sagged drowsily against

Nicholas's shoulder. When she was fast asleep, he let her down gently

and lifted her feet up on to the bunk. He spread a rug over her. She did

not even stir, and he had a moment's doubt about the strength of the

tablets.

Then he kissed her forehead softly. "How could I ever hate you?" he

asked her softly. "Whatever you did."

He went into the lavatory and locked the door. He had plenty of time.

Sapper and Royan wouldn ot wake for hours yet, and Jannie and Fred were

happily ensconced on the flight'deck, listening to Dolly Parton tapes on

the audio system.

When at last he had finished, Nicholas glanced at his wrist-watch and

realized that it had taken him almost two hours, He closed the toilet

seat and washed his hands carefully. Then he took one last careful took

around the tiny cabin and unlocked the door.

Sapper and Royan were still fast asleep on the folddown bunks. He went

forward to the flight-deck, and Fred pulled his earphones down around

his neck and grinned at him.

"Nile water. It's poisonous. You have been locked in the loo for the

last couple of hours. Surprised that there is anything left of you."

Nicholas ignored the jibe and leaned over Jannie's seat back. "Where are

we?"

With a thick forefinger Jannie stabbed the chart that he was balancing

on his protruding belly. "Almost in the clear," he said complacently.

"Egyptian border in one hour twelve minutes."

Nicholas remained standing behind his seat until Jannie grunted and

lifted the microphone. "Time to go into my act."

"Hallo, Abu Simbel Approach!" he said in a Gulf States accent. "This is

Zulu Whiskey Uniform Five Zero Zero."

There was a long silence from the Egyptian controller.

Jannie grunted. "He probably has'a hint in the tower with him. Got to

give him time to get his pants back on."

Abu Simbel Control answered on his fifth call. Jannie launched into his

tried and tested routine, feigning ignorance in fluent colloquial

Arabic.

After five minutes, Abu Simbel cleared him to continue on northwards,

with an instruction to "call again abeam Aswan'.

They flew on serenely for another hour, but Nicholas nerves were

screwing up tighter every minute.

Suddenly, without the least warning, there was a silvery flash ahead of

them as a fighter interceptor, coming from below them, pulled up steeply

across their bows.

Jannie shouted with surprise and an eras another two 9 warplanes

rocketed up from under them, so close that they were buffeted by the

turbulence of their jet trails.

They all recognized the type. They were MiG21 "fishheads' sporting the

Egyptian air force livery, and with air-to-air missiles hanging in

menacing pods under their swept-back wings.

"Unidentified aircraft! Jannie yelled into his mouthpiece. "You are on

collision course. State your call sign!" They all craned their necks and

stared up through -he Perspex canopy over the flight-deck. High above

them they could see the three MiG fighters in formation circling against

the blue of the African sky.

"ZVVU 500. This is Red Leader of the Egyptian people's air force. You

will conform to my orders."

Jannie looked back at Nicholas, his expression forlorn.

low, A

something has gone wrong here. How the hell did they tumble to us?"

"You' better do what the man says, Dad," Fred advised miserably,

'otherwise he is going to blow us all over the sky."

Jarnie shrugged helplessly, and then spoke into his microphone

mournfully. "Red Leader, This is ZVVU 500.

We will cooperate. Please state your intentions."

"Your new heading is 053. Execute immediately!" Jannie brought Big Dolly

around into the east and then glanced at his chart.

"Aswan!" he said dolefully. "The Gyppos are taking us to Aswan. What the

hell, I might as well warn Aswan tower that we have wounded on board."

Nicholas went back to Royans bunk and shook her awake. She was groggy

and unsteady on her feet from the effects of the drug as she staggered

to the lavatory. However, when she emerged again ten minutes later her

hair was combed and she seemed alert and recovered from the mild draught

that she had drunk in her tea. – here was the Nile ahead of them once

more, 6.. and the town of Aswan on both banks, nestling below the first

cataract and the impounded waters of the High Dam. Kitchener's Island

swam like a green fish in the middle of the stream.

As the voice of the military controller at the Aswan irfield gave Jannie

his orders, Big Dolly settled with unruffled dignity and lined up for

the straight-in approach to the tarmac runway. The MiG fighters which

had shepherded them in from the desert were no longer visible, but their

presence high above was betrayed by their terse radio transmissions as

they handed over their captive to the ground control.

Big Dolly sailed in over the perimeter fence and touched down, and the

voice of the controller ordered them, "Turn first taxi-way right."

Jannie obeyed, and as he turned off the main runway there was a small

vehicle with a sign on its roof which read, in both English and Arabic,

"FOLLOW ME'.

The vehicle led them to a row of camouflaged concrete hangars in front

of which a ground crew in khaki overalls signalled them with paddles

into a parking stand. As soon as Jannie applied his brakes and brought

Big Dolly to a halt, a file of four armoured half-tracks raced out and

surrounded the huge aircraft, training their turret weapons upon her.

Obedient to the instructions radioed7by control, Jannie shut down his

engines and lowered the tail ramp of the aircraft. No one on the

flight-deck had spoken since they had landed. They stood crowded

together, looking unhappy, peering out of the cockpit windows.

Suddenly a white Cadillac with an escort of armed motorcyclists,

followed by a military ambulance and a three-ton transport truck, drove

through the gate of the perimeter fence and came directly to the foot of

the cargo ramp of the Hercules. The chauffeur jumped out and opened the

door, and his passenger stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine. He

was clearly a person of authority, dignified and composed. He wore a

light tropical suit and white shoes, a panama hat and dark glasses. As

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."