Sarit arrived in Cairo sometime after four in the morning. She parked her car and took an invigorating shower to rouse herself from the lethargy that was engulfing her.
She put on the white bathrobe supplied by the hotel and made her way to the bed, still feeling an intense desire to sleep. But she had something to do before that: she had to report in. She switched on her computer and uploaded the tourist-style pictures she had taken of her day in the Valley of the Kings. Then she connected the laptop to the hotel’s broadband and prepared the message for embedding into one of the pictures: Goliath locked Klein, Gusack and Mansoor in tomb in western valley and stole their jeep. May have killed them, but I suspect not. Arrange for them to be freed. I followed Goliath on road to Cairo and disposed of him with homemade incendiary.
She embedded the text in the picture, then wiped the text file and uploaded the picture to her social network account for all her ‘friends’ to see. Then she ran the utility to delete any temporary files and overwrite unused areas of the hard disk.
Then she did what she had wanted to do for hours: crash out on the bed.
Sometime later, she was awakened from her uneasy sleep by an aggressive banging on the door. She barely had time to throw on a robe before the door was flung open and three Egyptian policemen walked in.
‘Miss Stewart, you are under arrest for leaving the scene of a motor accident.’