The Lost Testament

16

Less than five minutes later, after Abdul had turned back towards the centre of Cairo, the paper now tucked away again in his pocket, the target overtook him. Abdul let him get about fifty yards ahead before he began to increase his pace, slowly picking up speed until he was matching the other man. As if linked by an invisible tether, the two men weaved their way through the gathering crowds around the souk.

The moment the target entered the market, Abdul moved closer, now shielded from detection by the mass of people thronging the alleys, because it was vital that he didn’t lose sight of his target. In fact, the task proved easier than he had expected, because he had only gone quite a short distance inside the souk before the target stopped beside a stall and then walked around to the back of it.

Of course, Abdul knew he might just be a friend of the stallholder, and might have dropped in for a chat or something, so he strode on past and then stopped, apparently looking down at a collection of beaten brass trinkets on another stall.

Moments later, he relaxed. The target had taken a set of keys from his pocket, unlocked a storeroom situated behind the stall and disappeared inside it. When he re-emerged, he took up station behind the stall itself, dismissing the man who had previously been manning it.

Abdul had successfully identified the stall operated by his target, and more importantly the storeroom behind the stall where he presumed the man would keep some of his more valuable items under lock and key. But there was nothing more he could do for the moment, because of the crowds milling around in the souk.

However, being aware that the easiest option was always the best, he walked up and took a careful look at the goods being offered by his target, just in case the item he’d been told to recover was actually on sale in the stall. The most cursory glance showed that the man had nothing resembling the relic for sale.

After a moment, Abdul decided that asking a few questions was a viable option, so he picked up a curved and ornamented dagger and looked at it closely.

Clearly scenting a sale, the target — he knew the man’s name was Mahmoud Kassim — immediately stepped close to Abdul and pointed at the knife he was holding.

‘You have a good eye, my friend,’ he began, opening his sales pitch. ‘That, as I’m sure you already know, is a genuine Persian dagger, at least two hundred years old, and in almost perfect condition.’ He nodded approvingly as Abdul slid the blade out of the sheath and studied the metal. ‘Very few knives of this sort ever come onto the market, and those that do are almost always very well used and often incomplete, perhaps missing the sheath or some of the decoration. That dagger would be an excellent investment for you.’

Abdul looked at him with a slight smile, slid the knife back into the sheath and tossed it back onto the stall.

‘You needn’t bother trying to deceive me,’ he said, ‘because I’m in the trade. You and I both know that this so-called Persian dagger was made in the back streets of Cairo about a month ago, and is almost worthless. But even if it was the real thing, I wouldn’t be interested in it. I only deal in old documents, parchments and scrolls and relics of that sort.’

Having planted the seed, Abdul fell silent, hoping that Mahmoud would mention the ancient parchment he had been told the trader possessed. But the Egyptian’s response disappointed him.

‘You should have said you were a dealer, and then I wouldn’t have wasted my time with you. I don’t deal with scrolls or any other objects like that. I’m sorry.’

Abdul nodded.

‘Can you recommend any other traders in the souk who might have such relics for sale?’

Mahmud shook his head, the scowl still on his face.

‘If you are a specialist in that field, you are most unlikely to find anything here to interest you. Much like my Persian knife, most of the scrolls for sale in this market are aimed at tourists, and are produced to order by a handful of people who make a living by manufacturing these objects. I don’t think you’ll find a genuine antique scroll for sale anywhere here.’

‘And no pieces of parchment either?’

Again, Mahmoud shook his head.

‘Not in this souk, no. Not as far as I know.’

As Abdul strode away, he was beginning to wonder if his employer hadn’t made a serious mistake. He knew the way that the Egyptian mind worked — being a member of that nation, he could consider himself something of an expert on the subject — and he was absolutely certain that if Mahmoud Kassim actually had the relic in his possession, he would definitely have offered it to him for sale, and that meant one of two things.

Either his employer, the man whose contract he had accepted very late the previous evening, had got it wrong, and the relic was actually in the possession of some other trader in the area, or for whatever reason the target had decided to keep the parchment for himself, and it was no longer for sale.

Before he did anything else, Abdul decided that he would contact his employer and raise his concerns.

He walked some distance away from the souk before finding a quiet spot and taking out his mobile phone. There were no numbers stored in the memory. All of the telephone numbers Abdul used were held either in his head or on his computer in a hidden and encrypted directory that could only be accessed by the application of a twelve-digit key, a key which he changed every month. In this case, he had committed the man’s number to memory, and dialled it.

His call was answered almost immediately.

‘Do you have it?’

Neither man would mention any names or anything else that could possibly incriminate them. Calls from one mobile to another were fairly secure, but it simply wasn’t worth taking a chance.

‘No,’ Abdul replied. ‘I have spoken to the man and he says he does not have it. By his manner, I don’t think he was lying — unless he is a much more sophisticated man than I think. How certain is your information?’

‘An intercept was performed yesterday. We know that it must be in his possession.’

Abdul thought for a moment before replying.

‘Actually,’ he said, ‘all that information proves is that he has come across it. It doesn’t prove that he still has it.’

‘Perhaps. But he is the only lead we have, so you are to continue as we discussed. It is essential that we find and recover the object.’

‘And the man?’ Abdul wanted to be absolutely clear of the course of action he was to follow.

‘He is expendable. All other considerations are secondary to the object’s recovery.’