Contract With God (20 page)

‘Ms Otero thinks the professor is in trouble,’ Tommy said. ‘Where are your lookouts?’

‘That sector’s at a blind angle. Waaka is looking for a better position.’

‘Good evening. What’s going on? Mr Kayn is trying to sleep,’ Jacob Russell said as he approached the group. He wore cinnamon-coloured silk pyjamas and his hair was slightly tousled. ‘I thought that—’

Dekker interrupted him with a gesture. The walkie-talkie crackled and Waaka’s flat voice came over the speaker.

‘Colonel, I can see Forrester and a body on the ground. Over.’

‘What’s the professor doing, Nest One?’

‘He’s leaning over the body. Over.’

‘Copy, Nest One. Remain at your position and cover us. Nests Two and Three, maximum alert. If a mouse farts, I want to know about it.’

Dekker broke off communication and proceeded to give further orders. In the few moments that he had been in contact with Waaka, the entire camp had roused itself. Tommy Eichberg lit one of the powerful halogen floodlights, throwing huge shadows against the canyon walls.

Meanwhile Andrea stood slightly apart from the circle of people crowding around Dekker. Over his shoulder she could see Fowler walking behind the infirmary, completely dressed. He looked around and then went over to stand behind the reporter.

‘Don’t say anything. We’ll talk later.’

‘Where’s Harel ?’

Fowler looked at Andrea and arched his eyebrows.

Suddenly a suspicion occurred to Andrea and she turned towards Dekker, but Fowler grabbed her arm and held her back. After exchanging a few words with Russell, the huge South African had made a decision. He left Maloney in charge of the camp and together with Torres and Jackson headed for quadrant 22K.

‘Let me go, Father! He said there was a body.’ Andrea said, trying to free herself.

‘Wait.’

‘It could be her.’

‘Hold on.’

In the meantime Russell had raised his arms and was addressing the group.

‘Please, please. We’re all very agitated, but running around from one place to another isn’t going to help anyone. Take a look around you, and tell me if there’s anyone missing. Mr Eichberg? And Brian?’

‘He’s dealing with the generator. It’s low on fuel.’

‘Mr Pappas?’

‘Everyone’s here except Stowe Erling, sir,’ said Pappas nervously, his voice cracking with the strain. ‘He was going over quadrant 22K again. The headings on the data were wrong.’

‘Dr Harel?’

‘Dr Harel isn’t here,’ said Kyra Larsen.

‘She’s not? Does anyone have an idea where she might be?’ said a surprised Russell.

‘Where who might be?’ said a voice behind Andrea. The reporter turned, relief etched across her face. Harel was standing behind her, her eyes bloodshot, dressed only in boots and a long red shirt. ‘You’ll have to excuse me, but I took a sleeping pill and I’m still a little groggy. What happened?’

While Russell was getting the doctor up to speed, Andrea confronted mixed emotions. Although she was relieved that Harel was all right, she couldn’t understand where the doctor could have been all this time or why she had lied.

And I’m not the only one
, Andrea thought, watching her other tent-mate. Kyra Larsen hadn’t taken her eyes off Harel.
She suspects the doctor of something. I’m sure she noticed that she wasn’t in her bed a few minutes ago. If looks were laser beams, Doc would have a hole in her back the size of a small pizza.

The old man got up on a chair and untied one of the knots that held up the sides of the tent. He tied it, untied it, and tied it once more.

‘Sir, you’re doing it again.’

‘Someone’s dead, Jacob. Dead.’

‘Sir, the knot is fine. Please, come down. You have to take this.’ Russell was holding out a small paper cup containing some pills.

‘I’m not going to take them. I need to be alert. I could be next. Do you like this knot?’

‘Yes, Mr Kayn.’

‘It’s called a double eight. It’s a very good knot. My father showed me how to do it.’

‘It’s a perfect knot, sir. Please come down from the chair.’

‘I just want to make sure—’

‘Sir, you’re falling back into obsessive compulsive behaviour.’

‘Don’t use that term on me.’

The old man turned so violently that he lost his balance. Jacob moved to catch Kayn, but he wasn’t quick enough and the old man fell.

‘Are you all right? I’ll call Dr Harel!’

The old man lay crying on the floor, but only a small part of his tears was due to the fall.

‘Someone’s dead, Jacob. Someone’s dead.’

AL MUDAWWARA DESERT, JORDAN

 

 

‘Murder.’

‘Are you sure, Doctor?’

Stowe Erling’s body was lying at the centre of a circle of gas lamps. They gave off a pale light, and the shadows on the surrounding rocks faded into a night that suddenly seemed filled with danger. Andrea fought back a shudder as she gazed at the body on the sand.

When Dekker and his entourage had arrived at the scene only minutes earlier, he’d found the old professor holding the dead man’s hand, continuously sounding the now useless air horn. Dekker had prised the professor away and called for Dr Harel. The doctor had asked Andrea to come with her.

‘I’d rather not,’ Andrea had said. She had felt dizzy and confused when Dekker had said over the radio that they had found Stowe Erling dead. She couldn’t help remembering how she’d wished that the desert would simply swallow him up.

‘Please. I’m very anxious, Andrea. Give me a hand.’

The doctor had seemed truly disturbed, so without another word Andrea began to walk alongside her. The reporter tried to think of ways she could ask Harel where the hell she’d been when this mess started, but she couldn’t do so without revealing that she too was somewhere she shouldn’t have been. When they reached quadrant 22K they discovered that Dekker had managed to illuminate the body so that Harel could determine the cause of death.

‘You tell me, Colonel. If it wasn’t murder, it was a very determined suicide. He has a knife wound at the base of his spine, which is by definition fatal.’

‘And very difficult to accomplish,’ Dekker said.

‘What do you mean?’ Russell cut in, standing next to Dekker.

Further away, Kyra Larsen was squatting next to the professor, attempting to console him. She draped a blanket over his shoulders.

‘He means that it was a perfectly placed wound. With a very sharp knife. Stowe hardly bled at all,’ Harel said, taking off the latex gloves with which she had examined the body.

‘A professional, Mr Russell,’ added Dekker.

‘Who found him?’

‘Professor Forrester’s computer has an alarm that goes off if one of the magnetometers stops transmitting,’ Dekker said, indicating the old man with a nod of his head. ‘He came over here to give off to Stowe. When he saw him on the ground, he thought he was sleeping and started sounding the air horn in his ear until he realised what had happened. Then he kept blowing the horn to alert us.’

‘I don’t want even to imagine how Mr Kayn is going to react when he finds out Stowe was murdered Where the hell were your men, Dekker? How could this have happened?’

‘They must have been looking out beyond the canyon, as I ordered. There are only three of them covering a very large terrain on a moonless night. They were doing all they could.’

‘Which is not much,’ Russell said, pointing at the body.

‘Russell, I told you. It is insane coming to this place with only six men. At a push, we have three men doing four-hour guard duty. But to cover a hostile zone like this, we really need at least twenty. So don’t blame me.’

‘That’s out of the question. You know what would happen if the Jordanian government—’

‘Will you two stop arguing!’ The professor had got up, the blanket hanging from his shoulders. His voice shook with anger. ‘One of my assistants is dead. I sent him here. Will you please stop blaming each other?’

Russell went silent. To Andrea’s surprise, so did Dekker, although he saved face by turning to Dr Harel.

‘Can you tell us anything else?’

‘I imagine he was killed up there and then he slid down the incline, given the rocks that came down with him.’

‘You imagine?’ Russell said, raising an eyebrow.

‘I’m sorry, but I’m not a forensic pathologist, just an ordinary physician who specialises in combat medicine. I’m certainly not qualified to analyse a crime scene. In any case, I don’t think you’re going to find footprints or any other clues with the mixture of sand and rock we have out here.’

‘Do you know if Erling had any enemies, Professor?’ said Dekker.

‘He didn’t get on with David Pappas. I was responsible for the rivalry between them.’

‘Did you ever see them argue?’

‘Many times, but they never came to blows.’ Forrester paused and then shook his finger in Dekker’s face. ‘Wait a minute. You’re not suggesting that one of my assistants did this, are you?’

Meanwhile, Andrea had been observing Stowe Erling’s body with a mixture of shock and disbelief. She wanted to walk over into the circle of lamps and pull on his ponytail to show that he wasn’t dead, that it was just a sick joke of the professor’s. She understood the gravity of the situation only when she saw the frail old man shaking his finger in the gigantic Dekker’s face. At that point the secret that she had been withholding for two days cracked like a dam from the pressure.

‘Mr Dekker.’

The South African turned to her, his expression clearly not friendly.

‘Ms Otero, Schopenhauer said that the first encounter with a face makes a lasting impression on us. For the time being I’ve had enough of your face - understood?’

‘I don’t even know why you’re here, nobody asked you to come,’ added Russell. ‘This story is not for publication. Go back to the camp.’

The reporter took a step back, but held the gaze of both the mercenary and the young executive. Ignoring Fowler’s advice, Andrea decided to spit it out.

‘I’m not leaving. It’s possible that this man’s death is my fault.’

Dekker came so close to her that Andrea could feel the dry heat from his skin.

‘Speak up.’

‘When we arrived at the canyon, I thought I saw someone on top of that cliff.’

‘What? And it didn’t occur to you to say anything?’

‘I didn’t give it much importance at the time. I’m sorry.’

‘Terrific, you’re sorry. That makes everything all right then. Fuck!’

Russell was shaking his head, amazed. Dekker scratched the scar on his face, trying to take in what he had just heard. Harel and the professor were looking at Andrea in disbelief. The only one who reacted was Kyra Larson, who pushed Forrester aside, rushed over to Andrea, and slapped her.

‘Bitch!’

Andrea was so stunned that she didn’t know what to do. Then, seeing the anguish on Kyra’s face, she understood and lowered her arms.

‘Bitch,’ the archaeologist repeated, throwing herself on Andrea and pummelling her face and chest. ‘You could have told everyone that we were being watched. Don’t you know what we’re looking for? Don’t you realise how it affects us all?’

Harel and Dekker grabbed Larsen by the arms and pulled her back.

‘He was my friend,’ she mumbled, moving away slightly.

At that moment David Pappas arrived at the scene. He had been running and sweat was pouring from him. It was obvious he had fallen at least once because there was sand on his face and glasses.

‘Professor! Professor Forrester!’

‘What is it, David?’

‘The data. Stowe’s data,’ Pappas said, bending over and leaning on his knees to catch his breath.

The professor made a dismissive gesture.

‘This isn’t the time, David. Your colleague is dead.’

‘But, Professor, you have to listen. The headings. I’ve fixed them.’

‘Very good, David. We’ll talk tomorrow.’

Then David Pappas did something he would never have done were it not for the tension of that night. Grabbing Forrester’s blanket, he jerked the old man around to face him.

‘You don’t understand. We have a peak. A 7911!’

At first Professor Forrester didn’t react, but then he spoke very slowly and deliberately, in such a low voice that David could hardly hear him.

‘How big?’

‘Huge, sir.’

The professor fell to his knees. Unable to speak, he leaned backward and forward in mute supplication.

‘What’s a 7911, David?’ asked Andrea.

‘Atomic weight 79. Position 11 on the periodic table,’ the young man said, his voice breaking. It was as if, in delivering his message, he had emptied himself. His eyes were on the corpse.

‘And that is . . .?’

‘Gold, Ms Otero. Stowe Erling had found the Ark of the Covenant.’

The Bible says: ‘And they shall make an Ark of shittim wood: two cubits and a half shall be the length thereof, and a cubit and a half the breadth thereof, and a cubit and a half the height thereof. And thou shalt overlay it with pure gold, within and without shalt thou overlay it, and thou shalt make upon it a crown of gold round about. And thou shalt cast four rings of gold for it, and put them in the four corners thereof; and two rings shall be in the one side of it, and two rings in the other side of it. And thou shalt make staves of shittim wood, and overlay them with gold. And thou shalt put the staves into the rings by the sides of the Ark, that the Ark may be borne with them.’