City of the Lost

I

Her name was Hannah, she told them, as she brewed a pot of mint tea in her kitchen. She had worked alongside Jakob at Haifa. Then, when his wife had died and this house had become available… She looked defiantly at them both, daring them to comment.

Considering her obvious fondness for him, her stoicism at his loss was impressive. But she’d known where he’d been staying in Daphne and so had been braced for the worst even before confirmation had come. She talked of him as they drank tea. Uri tapped his watch surreptitiously, but Iain wasn’t quite ready to leave yet. ‘You know about artefacts, I assume?’ he asked.

‘I’m an archaeologist,’ she shrugged.

He went to the car to fetch the samples case, the memory stick. The smartphone screen was too small for her old eyes so she led them through to her study, brought the photos up on her monitor. She sagged a little when she saw one of the men holding a piece for the camera. ‘Jakob,’ she said.

‘You’re sure?’

She touched his ring. ‘Ten years a widower, and still he wouldn’t take it off.’

‘I’m so sorry.’

She shook her head to clear it, frowned back at the piece he was holding: a ceramic bowl festooned with lines and patterns. ‘Geometric,’ she said. ‘Probably middle geometric, though you can never tell for sure with geometric.’

‘Important?’

‘Unusual for southern Turkey, and in remarkable condition; but common enough in itself.’ She went through the pictures one by one, identifying the pieces as best she could. Most were pottery, either geometric or a style she called black-on-red, but there were a few other pieces too: a brooch encrusted with semiprecious stones, a pitted dagger, several seal-stones and some seal impressions too. Tenth to eighth century, as best as Hannah could tell, mostly in exceptional condition. More to the point, she didn’t recognize any of the pieces, which implied that — if authentic, at least — they came from somewhere new.

Iain nodded. So it hadn’t just been a few choice pieces that had lured Coates and Bejjani to Daphne. It had been the possibility of a whole new site. She opened another picture now, a different man holding a clay oil lamp, and something snagged his eye. He took the mouse from her, zoomed in on the man’s forearm. The faded tattoo beneath his shirt cuff was finally large and clear enough to make out. It showed a wolf. A grey wolf.

‘Hell,’ muttered Uri, with a glance at Iain. ‘Did you know they were involved?’

‘I was beginning to wonder.’

‘What are you talking about?’ asked Hannah.

‘You don’t want to know,’ Iain told her. ‘Really, you don’t.’

‘You think this man is one of the bombers?’ she frowned.

‘No,’ said Iain. ‘He was killed in the blast. But the group he’s connected with…’ He looked back at the screen. It was finally taking some shape in his mind. A Grey Wolf who’d needed shutting up before the antiquities police could arrest and interrogate him. But why? What had he known that was so dangerous? With startling clarity, Iain realized suddenly that this man was the key. Find out who he was and why he’d had to be killed and he’d have Mustafa’s murderers. And, banned from Turkey as his way, his best hope of finding him was surely to first find this site. ‘These pieces,’ he asked Hannah, gesturing at the samples case. ‘Where did they come from?’ But she shook her head. The styles were Eastern Mediterranean, she told him, but too diverse to be specific. A trading centre of some kind, perhaps. Maybe on Cyprus or one of the other islands. Iain scowled. ‘There has to be some way to find out.’

‘You could test your samples,’ she said. ‘The composition of clay varies significantly from place to place. The same goes for metal and paint and pollen.’

‘Can you do that here?’

Hannah smiled. ‘No. You’ll need state-of-the-art equipment for that level of analysis. There’s a lab in Tel Aviv we used to use. It won’t be quick or cheap, but I could give you their number if you’d like.’

‘It’s okay,’ said Iain. ‘I’ve got a better idea.’ It was getting late. They thanked her and returned to the car. While Uri turned the Merc, Iain found his Antioch hotel receipt then called the switchboard and asked for Karin. Slightly to his surprise, they put him through. ‘Yes?’ she said.

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘It’s me. Iain.’

‘Hey yourself,’ she said. He could hear gladness in her voice, the creak of bedsprings as she sat down. ‘How are you? What’s going on? They said downstairs they’d taken you to the airport.’

‘I’m calling from Israel,’ he agreed.

‘No!’ She gave a little laugh. ‘Why?’

‘Things got a bit fucked up,’ he admitted. ‘I was only ever in Turkey to look into that Lebanese guy I told you about; the Dido fan. Turns out he was there to meet the same guy your boss was. But we didn’t know that at the time, so we set up cameras around the hotel. They caught the bombers parking their truck. I sent the footage in to the police. I sent it anonymously, but they managed to trace it back to me.’

‘They deported you for that? But why? You helped them.’

‘They said it was because I’d violated my visa. But I don’t know. The whole police investigation stinks, if I’m honest. It’s like they’re trying to avoid finding the truth.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Remember those Grey Wolves I mentioned our first night? I keep seeing signs of them. Word is that the Turkish police are infested with them. And the thing is, whenever they’ve been involved in shit like this in the past, it’s been a sure sign of something bigger coming down the pipe.’

‘Like what?’

Iain hesitated. As long as Karin remained in Turkey, there was a risk that the police would pick her up and interview her. ‘I’m still working on that,’ he said. ‘Which is why I called. Remember that package Nathan gave you to post? The one I took from you after the bomb?’

‘Christ! I’d forgotten all about it. Where is it?’

‘I’ve got it here. I brought it with me in all the chaos this morning. I had to check what was in it before I boarded my flight, make sure it was benign. It’s samples, like you said. Pottery and shit. The thing is, I want to get them tested. Apparently you can tell where the clay and metals originally came from.’

‘Yes,’ she said. But she sounded extremely doubtful.

‘I know it’s a long shot, but I’m pretty sure that the bomb was meant to kill the guy selling those pieces. So I need to find out who he was and why he needed shutting up. This is my only lead. But I can’t take the samples to just anyone, not without inviting awkward questions. That’s why I was thinking your friend Mike Walker in Cairo. He was expecting them anyway.’

‘Yes. Of course.’

‘Only if I ring him up out of the blue and start yapping about black market artefacts…’

‘You want me to call him for you? Tell him he can trust you?’

‘Could you?’

‘I’ll do it now,’ she said. ‘When can you get them to him?’

‘If he’s okay with it, I’ll fly them down tomorrow.’ He gave her his number so that she could call him back, then hung up.

Uri slid him a look. ‘Who was that?’ he asked.

‘Just some girl.’

‘Sure.’

It was another minute or two before Karin rang back. ‘Mike’s fine with it,’ she told him. ‘He’s actually pretty excited.’ She read out his contact details. ‘He’s got his in-laws staying, so he can’t put you up or anything. But he said to let him know your flight number and he’ll pick you up from the airport.’

‘I’ll call him when I’m booked.’

‘Let me know if you find anything.’

‘Of course. Give me your mobile.’ She did so. He jotted it down. The conversation had reached its natural end, but he didn’t want to let her go, and she seemed in no hurry either. ‘How about you, then?’ he asked. ‘Get your stuff back yet?’

‘This morning. You’ll have to give me your address so I can pay you back.’

‘Your passport and green card too?’

‘Everything.’

‘Brilliant. So it’s back to the States, is it?’ He tried his best to sound pleased for her, but didn’t quite succeed.

‘Not straight away. It didn’t seem worth changing my bookings, so I’ve got a couple of nights at the Nicosia Grand. Then God knows what I’ll do. Nathan was a fluke. I’ll never get a job like that again. And, honestly, it was the only thing keeping me over there.’

‘Holland, then?’

‘If Leiden will still have me. Otherwise I’ll have to start sending out résumés.’

‘Come to London,’ he said. ‘They’re crying out for Homeric specialists there.’

She laughed. ‘Is that right?’

‘It’s all anyone ever talks about.’

‘Don’t tempt me. I’ll take you up on it.’

‘I hope you do.’ His directness caught her by surprise. Silence stretched a little awkwardly, but he was in no mood to retract. ‘I want to see you again,’ he said.

‘I’d like to see you too,’ she said. ‘But I’ve got to sort America out first. When I get back.’

‘Sure,’ he said.

‘Good night, then.’

‘Good night.’ He ended the call, tucked away his phone.

‘Just some girl, huh?’ grinned Uri.

‘Just some girl,’ agreed Iain.

II

Asena arrived dispirited at the Grey Wolves’ Istanbul safe house. She reported her failure with Iain Black to the Lion but agreed with him that they should carry on with their plans regardless. She duly fed the three stories and supporting materials to the journalists they’d identified, then ate a light meal and fell exhausted into bed.

The night was warm; the city noisy. Sleep eluded her. She was tossing restlessly when her phone began to buzz. Her eyes were gummed; she had to squint to read. The Lion wanted to talk again. She threw on a shirt and went up onto the roof to set up her satellite phone. ‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘Your friend Iain Black,’ he said.

‘What about him?’

‘I had our Antioch team check deeper into him. They went back to his hotel and made the staff talk. It turns out that Black was sharing his room with some Dutch woman he met after the blast. It further turns out that she’s still there. So they put a tap on her phone.’

Asena stiffened. ‘She called him?’

‘He called her. Two hours ago. They spoke twice. I’m sending you the transcripts now. As you’ll see for yourself, he now constitutes a definite threat. We need to deal with him urgently.’

‘He’s in Israel,’ said Asena. ‘No way can we set up that kind of operation in Israel at this short notice.’

‘That’s the thing,’ said the Lion. ‘He’s flying on to Cairo in the morning. We have friends in Cairo. Suppliers. You can get at him easily there.’

Asena grimaced. ‘Is this absolutely necessary?’

‘Read the transcripts. It’s absolutely necessary. And I warn you that there may be other work too, specifically the Dutchwoman I mentioned. It depends how much Black has shared with her. Perhaps if you could persuade him to tell you somehow…’

Asena fell silent. When she and the Lion had started out on this enterprise, it had been to remedy the grotesque injustice inflicted on her father and so many others like him. She’d felt righteous, therefore, certain that the scales of justice tilted heavily in their favour. But every episode like this brought them closer and closer to the level. ‘I hate this,’ she said. ‘I want it over. I want us to be together again.’

‘We will be. Soon. If we keep our heads.’

‘Yes.’

‘The Lion and the Wolf,’ he said.

She sighed and touched her screen. ‘The Lion and the Wolf.’