The Lost Army of Cambyses (66 page)

properly handled, you might be able to help us

locate the missing piece and, subsequently, restore

it to Sayf al-Tha'r without him ever becoming

aware of our own involvement. And that's exactly

how it worked out. You played your part

perfectly.'

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Tara's eyes were burning with resentment. She

felt violated, abused. Daniel glanced briefly back

at her, then turned away again.

'Admittedly it was touch and go for a while.

Had you just let them take the piece at Saqqara

everything would have been a lot easier. As it was,

you insisted on running away with it, which

forced us into a very delicate game. If you'd gone

to the authorities or come to us at the embassy,

Sayf al-Tha'r would have backed off immediately.

We therefore had to persuade you to go it alone.

Hence our little charade about an antiquities

smuggling ring.'

'Samali,' she groaned.

'One of our operatives, yes. And a very fine

performance he gave too.'

'Jesus Christ.'

Her shoulders slumped. Khalifa wanted to go to

her, comfort her, but sensed the moment wasn't

right and stayed where he was.

'Even then our fortunes were balanced on a

knife edge,' continued Squires. 'The whole thing

could still have fallen apart. The inspector caused

us more than a few worries and it was by no

means easy keeping you under control, Miss

Mullray. Although fortunately we had someone

on the inside and that rather helped things along.'

He smiled, but said no more. The soldiers had

finished laying out the lines of black-robed bodies

and were now standing around aimlessly at the

edge of the camp. Everything, suddenly, had gone

very quiet and very still. There was something

expectant in the air, a tension. Squires's final

words seemed to repeat over and over in Tara's

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head. Someone on the inside. Someone on the

inside. Slowly her face lifted. Already pale, it had

assumed a sort of horrified transparency.

'Oh no,' she whispered. 'Oh, please God, no.'

She looked over at Daniel. 'It was you, wasn't it?'

He stared out across the excavation, face blank,

eyes roving over the drifts of twisted corpses.

'You knew,' she whispered. 'All along you knew.'

He continued gazing at the army for a moment,

then slowly turned to her. There was guilt in his

eyes, and regret, but behind them something

harder, more brutal. She felt, suddenly, as if she

didn't know him.

'I'm sorry, Tara,' he said, his tone expression-

less, 'but it was my concession. They were going to

give it back, you see. Let me excavate again.'

She stared at him, too shocked to move. She was

dimly aware of the others, especially Khalifa, who

seemed to have come forward half a step, but even

he felt far away. It was as though she was standing

in a tunnel with Daniel at the other end and every-

one else on the outside. She opened her mouth to

try to speak, but no words came out, just a sort of

breathless choke. He stared at her for a moment,

then turned away again, gazing down at the

confusion of fragmented corpses below.

'When?' she managed to whisper.

'When did I get involved?' He shrugged. 'About

a year ago. They came to me, told me about the

army, how they wanted to use it to lure Sayf al-

Tha'r back to Egypt. Said if I helped them I could

dig in the valley again. I hadn't excavated for six

months by that point. I would have done any-

thing. Anything.'

548

A momentary spasm flashed across his face, as

if there was a part of him that despised what he

was saying. It was gone almost immediately and

the coldness returned. He stooped and picked up a

dagger, the one Khalifa had fought with earlier,

turning it over in his hands.

'It was me who came up with the idea of a

soldier surviving the disaster. I remembered the

Dymmachus graffito in KV9, and created a story

around him. I knew of an existing tomb that was

perfect, way out in the hills. Did all the work

myself. A little bit each day, slowly covering the

walls.' He smiled.

'I was happy, in a funny sort of way. Being

down there on my own. Painting the walls, creat-

ing the text, building up the story. Really happy.

And the end result . . . I surprised even myself. I

remember the day I finished, just sitting down

there and staring at it and thinking, this is a

masterpiece. A bloody masterpiece. Although, of

course, I can see now it was just a bit too good.

And I should have noticed the
shabtis
were the

wrong date. Stupid of me. Careless.' He looked at

Khalifa, who stared back at him, stony faced.

'There was a dagger?' said the detective.

'Ah, you saw that, did you?' Daniel grinned. 'I

couldn't resist it. The leather binding was loose so

I pulled it away and scratched Dymmachus son of

Menendes on the metal underneath, in Greek

letters. It was just a bit of fun, really. An extra

piece of authentication.'

Khalifa dragged on his cigarette, shaking his

head contemptuously. There was a long pause.

'That was all I was supposed to do,' said Daniel

549

eventually. 'Just create the tomb. But then the

piece of text went missing and you came on

the scene, and they found out I knew you. They

wanted me to contact you, watch you. I wasn't

happy about it, but then what could I do? It was

my concession. And, to be honest, I wanted to

know what had gone wrong as much as they did.

The tomb was my creation, you see. I was . . .

completely involved with it. So I left the note at

your father's apartment, knowing you'd recognize

the writing.'

Tears had started to trickle down Tara's cheeks.

She felt as if her clothes had been ripped off and

her skin too, leaving her completely naked, allow-

ing everyone to see inside her. She hugged herself.

'If you'd just let them have the piece at Saqqara

everything would have been OK,' he said. 'I tried

to tell you. But you wouldn't listen. And after

that . . .' He raised his hands helplessly.

Tara's tears were coming faster now. There was

a broken, disjointed look on her face, as though

her features had somehow fragmented and been

rearranged in the wrong order.

'You knew about Samali?' Her voice was

hoarse.

Daniel nodded. 'As soon as I'd found out what

the piece was I called Squires. From the zoo, when

I said I was calling my hotel. He told me what to

do.'

'And going to Luxor. Walking up into the hills.

You knew Dravic would be there? That you were

taking us into a trap?'

'What could I do? I had to get the text back to

them. It was the only way.'

550

Suddenly she heard her father's voice echoing

out of the past, filling her head: 'You get the

impression he'd cut off his own hand if he thought

it might further his knowledge of the subject. Or

anyone else's hand, for that matter. He's a fanatic.'

'Why didn't you just tell me?' she said, choking.

He dropped to his haunches and laid the dagger

back on the ground carefully, not wanting to

damage it in any way.

'I tried to,' he said. 'When we were standing on

top of El Qurn. Do you remember? But when it

came to it I couldn't. I was in too deep.'

He looked up at her and for a brief moment

there was something approaching genuine sorrow

in his eyes.

'I never meant you to get hurt, Tara,' he said,

the vaguest hint of gentleness creeping into his

voice. 'When we saw Dravic up on the hills . . .

even at that late stage I had second thoughts. I

knew they'd have someone watching the tomb,

that if we went down there we'd be caught. That's

why I tried to go on my own, to leave you out of

it. But you wouldn't let me. You insisted on

coming.'

'All those things you said . . .' She was trem-

bling uncontrollably. 'All that shit about still

caring for me . . .'

'It wasn't shit, Tara. I meant it. It's just that . . .'

He stared at her for a moment and then came to

his feet. Suddenly, as if a light had been switched

off, the warmth in his eyes was gone and there was

nothing, just an icy blankness.

'What?' she whispered. 'It's just that what,

Daniel?'

551

He shrugged. 'My concession is more

important.'

For a moment she stared at him, silent, crushed.

Then, with a guttural cry of pain and betrayal, she

flew at him, clawing at his face, scratching the

skin.

'What sort of person are you?' she screamed,

hysterical. 'What sort of monster that you could

do something like that? I could have been raped,

you bastard! Killed! And for what? For the

sake of a few dead bodies! For the sake of your

fucking concession! For that you'd stand by

and watch me die! You're sick! You're not human!

You're . . . disgusting! You disgust me! Disgust

me!'

He grabbed her wrists and held her away from

him, struggling with her. She fought for a moment

longer, and then, suddenly, her anger drained

away and she staggered back against the rock,

gasping for breath, face wet with tears.

'You bastard,' she gasped. 'You filthy, lying

bastard. I could have been killed.'

Khalifa went over and laid his hand gently on

her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. Oates and

Squires exchanged a brief glance, and Jemal's

worry beads began clacking again. Daniel raised

his hand to his face, glaring at her.

For a long moment no-one spoke or moved.

Then there was the crunch of approaching foot-

steps and Massey came up.

'Did I miss something?' he asked, looking at

each of them in turn.

'Dr Lacage and Miss Mullray have just been . . .

discussing the events of the past week,' said

552

Squires. The American noted the welts on Daniel's

face and burst out laughing.

'Jesus, looks like she gave him a right pussy-

whipping! You should give her a job!'

The wind had started up again, blowing steadily

down the valley, flurrying sand around their feet

and ankles. Oates looked at his watch.

'We should be going, sir.'

'Righty-ho,' nodded Squires. 'There's just a

couple of details to round off. Why don't the three

of you wait for me in the Chinook, eh?'

Oates, Jemal and Massey turned and began

walking towards the helicopter. Squires smoothed

back his hair, which had been blown about by the

wind.

'Not a great deal more to tell you, really,' he

said. 'Once Dravic had the location of the army

Sayf al-Tha'r started flying in men and equipment

from Libya. We just let them get on with it;

monitored the whole thing by satellite. We got

word he'd crossed the border a couple of days ago

and initially we planned to move in tomorrow

evening. As it was, Inspector Khalifa's little

odyssey forced us to pounce a day early. The

Egyptian air force intercepted his helicopters as

they came over the border. We took their place

and . . . well, I think you know the rest. Sayf al-

Tha'r is dead, his organization is destroyed, the

world is for the moment a safer place.'

Khalifa sighed wearily. 'And you think that's the

end? You think that by killing him you solve the

problem? There are dozens of Sayf al-Tha'rs out

there. Hundreds of them. Maybe it's time you

asked yourselves why.' He stared at Squires for a

553

moment and then, shaking his head, took a couple

of steps forward, gazing out at the rows of corpses

lying beside the crater. 'And what'll happen to

them?' he asked.

'The bodies? Oh, we'll bury them somewhere

out in the desert. Somewhere they'll never be

found.'

'And the army?' Khalifa nodded at the jumbled

morass of bodies.

'We'll leave it as it is,' said Squires, waving a

hand dismissively. 'Let the desert cover it over

again. In a few months it will have disappeared.

And then, who knows, maybe one day someone

else will come along and make the greatest dis-

covery in the history of archaeology. Or the

greatest rediscovery.'

He winked at Daniel, who stared at him im-

passively. Khalifa's cigarette had gone out and,

taking the matches from his pocket, he tried to

light one. The wind was blowing too hard, how-

ever, and he was unable to produce a flame. He

struck one, two, three and then gave up.

'And that, as they say, is well and truly that,'

said Squires with a sigh. 'It's been a difficult road,

but it all seems to have worked out very nicely in

the end. Indeed, in a curious way the saga of the

missing piece probably helped us. Sayf al-Tha'r

was so desperate to get it back that it never once