The Exodus Quest

III

Augustin was growing bored on the drive out to Borg. Farooq was hardly the world's greatest conversationalist. A few blunt questions about Omar and Knox that Augustin had managed to deflect easily enough, then a slump into almost complete silence. He got out his cigarettes, offered them across.

'Thanks,' grunted Farooq, taking one.

Augustin lit his own, passed his lighter to Farooq, then lowered his window, cupping a hand to catch the passing air. A white pick-up was coming towards them, sunlight reflecting off its dusty windscreen in such a way that it was only when they were passing that he saw the driver and his passenger, a young woman with long fair hair, whose eye Augustin caught for the briefest of moments.

They took a sharp right a kilometre further on, headed down a long lane, then turned left over an earthen bridge across an irrigation channel, pulling up to speak to a security guard. They'd just missed Griffin, apparently. That must have been him with the blonde in the pick-up. But Peterson was on site. The guard sent them in to wait by the office. They'd only been there a minute when Peterson arrived. 'Detective Inspector Farooq,' he said. 'An unexpected pleasure. What can we do for you?'

'Just one or two details to clear up. You know Doctor Augustin Pascal?'

'By reputation,' said Peterson.

'He's offered to help me. Explain archaeological terms, that kind of thing.'

'How good of him.'

Farooq nodded, took out his mobile. 'If you gentlemen will excuse me. I need to check in.'

Augustin and Peterson locked gazes as Farooq walked off, sizing each other up, neither backing down. It was a good minute before Farooq came back to join them, looking rather pleased with himself. 'Well,' he said, rubbing his hands vigorously. 'Perhaps we could get started.'

'On what, exactly?' asked Peterson.

'I'd like to speak to your people. Find out what they saw.'

'Of course,' said Peterson. 'Follow me.'

'Thank you,' nodded Farooq, as they set off across the broken ground. 'You told me last night that Knox and Tawfiq visited you yesterday after noon. That's right, isn't it?'

'Yes.'

'Did they say why?'

'Perhaps you should ask Knox.'

'We will,' promised Farooq. 'The moment we find him.'

'You've lost him?' frowned Peterson. 'How could you have lost him? The man was half dead.'

'Never you mind,' scowled Farooq. 'And I'd like to hear your version anyway.'

'He'd seen some kind of artefact in Alexandria. A jar lid, as I recall. We told him they made jars all around Lake Mariut, so there was no reason to suspect it came from here.'

'And then they left?'

'Yes. We thought no more about it until we had an intruder. In fact, not even then. We had no idea it was them. We just assumed it was some petty thief.'

'I understood this was a training excavation,' murmured Augustin. 'Are you finding things of value here?'

'Not of intrinsic value, no. But the locals don't know that. So there's always a danger they'll trespass and contaminate our data. Surely you appreciate that, Doctor Pascal?'

'So you chased them off.'

'It was just as I told you last night, Detective Inspector. Nothing has changed.' They reached the cemetery, dusty young excavators exhuming two graves. 'You want to speak to my team,' he said, spreading his hands. 'Well, here they are.'