The Exodus Quest

III

'Found your killer yet?'

Farooq scowled at his smirking colleague. 'You shut up,' he warned. 'You just shut up.'

His face was burning as he wrote out his report. Hatred for Knox dripped like acid in his heart. He'd had people out looking all across Alexandria, but the man had simply vanished from sight. He didn't know how it was possible. A humiliation that would take years to live down. His phone began to ring. Maybe it was news. 'This is Farooq,' he said, snatching it up.

'Gamal here. From Mallawi, remember? We spoke earlier.'

Farooq sat up in his chair. 'You have news for me?'

'Maybe. We think your man was here.'

'You think? How do you mean, you think?'

'He got away.'

'I don't believe this! How could he get away?'

'We'll get him, I promise you. It's just a matter of time. And he wouldn't have got away at all if you'd warned us there'd be two of them.'

'Two of them? How do you mean?'

'He had an accomplice. He gave us the slip, but we've got him now.'

Farooq scowled darkly. Augustin! 'A Frenchman, yes?'

'Can't say. He's not talking. Won't be for a while yet, either. Resisting arrest, if you know what I mean. But a foreigner, certainly. Maybe early fifties, tall and strong. Long hair with streaks of grey. And he's wearing a collar, a white collar. You know, like those Christian preachers do.'

'A dog collar?'

'Yes. Exactly. Does that make sense?'

'Yes.' Not Augustin after all. Peterson.

'What's going on, then?' asked Gamal.

'I don't know,' said Farooq grimly, getting to his feet. 'But I promise you this. I'm going to find out.'