The Exodus Quest

II

Knox sat back in his chair, leather creaking voluptuously, giving himself a chance to assimilate his new knowledge. Peterson and his team had cut those six ears from the mummies to check them for tattoos under ultraviolet light. That, along with the link to the TSBA's previous excavations in Cephallonia, surely meant that they were here on the trail of the Carpocratians. The only question left was why.

Kostas brooded for a moment or two when Knox put this to him. 'These Texan archaeologists of yours: they're highly religious, yes?'

'Yes.'

'Then there is one possibility, I suppose. You see, the Carpocratians were reputed to-' The doorbell sounded at that moment. Kostas broke off, sighed, pushed himself to his feet. 'Excuse me.'

'Of course.' Knox went over to the table. The encyclopaedia was lying open. He scanned the entry for the Carpocratians, but nothing caught his eye. He wandered the shelves instead, pulled down a slim biography of Philo, flipped through the creamy pages, the crumbling leather binding leaving smears like dried blood on his palms and fingers.

The library door reopened. Knox looked around to see Kostas standing there, pale and shaken. 'What is it?' frowned Knox. But then he saw two policemen come into view behind Kostas and instantly went cold. He'd thought himself safe here; had allowed himself to relax. But somehow they'd found him. For a mad moment, he contemplated trying to run for it, but there was nowhere to go. And then he caught the glimmer of a smile twitch on the shorter of the two policemen's lips, as though that was exactly what he wanted, an excuse to lay in to him. So he forced himself to relax instead, go quietly; see if he couldn't find out what the hell was going on, and how they'd tracked him here.