Lady of Heaven (16 page)

Alia looked up
at him. “I read that for myself,” she said. “But what papyrus does she mean?”

Beni shook his
head. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. Then he began to shuffle through the pages
on her desk. “But there’s some kind of translation in the journal that is said
to be from a papyrus and Fanny Sherburn keeps mentioning her search for the
tomb of the Lady of Heaven.”

Alia snorted.
“Isis?” she said. “Do you believe he’s seriously looking for the tomb of Isis?
He knows better than that. I wonder what that woman has been telling him to
send him off on a futile chase like that.”

Beni merely
shook his head, watching Alia sort through the copied pages. He had his own
opinions, of course; he had been around years ago when Fox had been working in
Edfu and he had worked by the man’s side in a joint venture between the Bolton
and the Cairo Museum. 

He remembered
how Alia had been smitten with the man, someone she had dated when they had
been in school back in England and someone she had never quite gotten over. 
Fox was never impolite with Alia but he never encouraged her, either. The
appearance of Fox’s fiancée yesterday had Alia reeling. Beni could just see the
wheels turning in her brain, deeply threatened by the beautiful blond American
woman.

“He has asked me
to assist him in his project,” Beni told her. “Perhaps I will know more once I
find out what this project is.”

Alia thumped the
pages on the table. “If what this journal says is true, then he is searching
for something that doesn’t exist,” she insisted. “Being led astray by a woman
who has him by the genitals. You saw how he behaved yesterday when she got into
trouble. He’s obsessed.”

“If he is going
to marry her then I would suspect he is in love with her,” Beni said quietly,
watching Alia flame. “Perhaps it is just best to leave well enough alone.  I
did what you asked yesterday; I went through her purse and brought you the
journal. Now you can see for yourself what is happening.  Perhaps you should
just leave it alone.”

Alia’s jaw
ticked. “I knew he was on to something when he came here yesterday,” she
muttered. “I knew that woman had something to do with it. Fox Henredon would
not have come to Egypt just to ask random questions if there wasn’t something
bigger involved.”

“But the
journal?” Beni began to straighten up the copied sheets. “It belonged to a
woman named Fanny Sherburn who toured Egypt ninety years ago. She speaks of
searching for the tomb of the Lady of Heaven, referring to a papyrus that she
had purchased in Cairo that gave clues where to find it.  If Dr. Fox has the
journal to guide him on this quest, do… do you suppose that Dr. Fox has the
papyrus with him, too?”

Alia looked at
him as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her. “Do you think?” she repeated,
more to herself than to him. “If it even exists, it would be foolish of him to
have brought it into this country. If Customs found it, they would never return
it to him.”

Beni simply
shrugged. “Perhaps if I help him with his project, I will have more answers for
you,” he suggested again.

Alia nodded,
looking thoughtful as her focus returned to the copies of the journal. She
picked them up, thumbing through them pensively.

“I will make
sure these are put in a safe place,” she said. “You will work with Fox and see
for yourself what this is all about.”

“What if he has
a papyrus?”

Alia lifted an
eyebrow. “Then an anonymous call to the Supreme Council of Antiquities should
take care of it. They’ll send the police to pick it up and he won’t have it for
long.”

Beni looked
dubious. “Is that necessary?” he asked, knowing he was treading on thin ice.
“If he brought it into this country, then it obviously belongs to him. It is
not as if he stole it.”

Alia’s
expression shifted, a hardness coming to her features as if she was dealing
with the most idiotic person in the world. “It would be a shame if the police
knew that it was you who stole Fox’s journal,” she snipped, jabbing a finger at
him. “You will do what I say, Beni.  Get out of my sight.”

Beni opened the
door to the office quietly and leaving before she could use him for more of her
dirty work.  He wasn’t really afraid of her, but she meant what she said. She
never threatened unless she intended to follow through.

Torn, somewhat disgusted,
Beni did the only thing he could do. He did what he was told.

October 18, 1923

Egypt again!

After nineteen days at sea, we
have finally docked in Cairo.  Mr. Arak was again waiting for us and now he and
dear Louis seem to have settled their differences.  I am thrilled to be here
once again and to introduce my son, William, to this great and mysterious land.

            ~ FS

CHAPTER TEN

The next day
dawned warm and clear and after a light breakfast, Fox took Morgan down to the
oldest marketplace in Cairo, the Khan el Kalili bazaar. 

He hadn’t
deciphered any more of the clues since last night, particularly the last part,
because he wanted the opinion of a man he’d known since his days digging at
Edfu.  Like many of the antiquities dealers in Cairo, this man came from
generations of dealers, the same family in the same business for hundreds of
years. Like Beni, he knew more about Egypt and antiquities than many
Egyptologists.  Since Fox wasn’t inclined to solicit Alia’s help again, he had
decided to search out his old dealer friend.

His friend’s family
business was in the Khan el Kalili bazaar, which served a double purpose for
him - Fox realized that he and Morgan spent the entire previous day moving from
one crisis to the next. He wanted to spend at least one day with her that
didn’t involve a calamity or a mystery. He’d go see Allahaba and spend money on
Morgan at the same time.

Before leaving
the hotel, Morgan absolutely refused in no uncertain terms to leave the journal
or the papyrus behind. After what had happened the day before, she was
terrified that they would disappear from the hotel room. So she shoved the
journal into a big straw bag and Fox took the papyrus with him, and they caught
a taxi at the hotel and headed over to the great Khan el Kalili bazaar.

Dressed in a
sweet sundress with her hair in a lovely braid and a big straw hat on her head,
Morgan looked like a doll. Fox was positive he couldn’t be any more in love
with her than he already was but he was wrong. Every day, every hour, saw his
feelings for her deepen. He was having the time of his life.

The taxi dropped
them off curbside in front of the busy marketplace. Fox climbed out first with
the papyrus in its case in one hand and extended the other to Morgan. She put
her small hand in his and allowed him to help her from the cab. All around them
was the dirty and bustle of modern Cairo, very much a third world country but
very much alive. It was smelly, polluted and loud. Morgan clutched her purse
tightly against her body as Fox took her hand and led her into the mass of
stalls, product and people.

“This is the
oldest bazaar in the city,” he told her as they entered the mouth of the
bazaar. “It was built in the fourteenth century by the Turks when the Ottoman
Empire ruled the country and Cairo was a major crossroads for trade. Parts of
this place is centuries old.”

Although it was
mostly open-air, it had apparently once been enclosed because brick walls that
were centuries old surrounded them, creating space that held dozens of merchant
stalls.   Amidst the dirt and clutter, there were some lovely items and Morgan
stopped to look at a locked acrylic case full of gold chains and bracelets. Fox
peered over her shoulder.

“See anything
you like?” he asked.

She nodded. “All
of it. It’s beautiful.”

Fox turned to
the man behind the counter and began chatting to him in Arabic. Morgan abruptly
found herself with several different gold chains for inspection, all of them
lovely and carefully crafted.  The owner’s wife pulled out the stops and brought
out gold earrings and other precious baubles and when all was said and done,
Morgan walked away with a gorgeous necklace and earring set. She packed them
carefully away into her straw purse.

“Thank you,” she
said to Fox.  “Where’d you learn to speak Arabic like that?”

He grinned.
“Remember that I was in charge of a dig in Edfu for three years,” he said. “I
can say ‘dig faster’, ‘stand back’, ‘my camel moves faster than you do’ and
‘you’re fired’ and really make it sound like I know what I’m talking about.”

She laughed at
the comical way he delivered his lines. “Impressive,” she said. “But you really
didn’t have to buy me anything.”

He winked at
her. “I know,” he replied. “But it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to
buy anything for the lady in my life. Don’t deny me the pleasure.”           

She grinned. “If
you say so.”

“I do.”

She studied him
as he collected her hand and they continued into the dusty bowels of the
bazaar. His comment about a lady in his life brought about her curiosity,
things they hadn’t really talked about during the fantastic week they spent
together in Britain.

“It’s
that
time, Dr. Henredon,” she said as they moved deeper into the bazaar.

“What time?”

“Time for total
truth. You said you’re all for honesty in a relationship.”

He cast her a
sidelong glance. “I am,” he agreed. “What do you want to know?”

“When was your
last girlfriend and how serious was it?”

He thought on
the question a moment. “About eighteen months ago,” he told her. “And it wasn’t
too serious, at least not for me. She, however, had us married almost the
moment we met.”

“Was it a bad
breakup?”

He shrugged. 
“As bad as most I suppose,” he looked at her. “What about you? When was your
last boyfriend and just how serious was it?”

“Hold your
horses, bucko,” she threw out a block, watching him grin. “I’m not done with
you yet.”

He snorted. “All
right,” he conceded. “Keep going. What else do you want to know?”

She looked
thoughtful. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say that you haven’t been living
the life of a hermit for the past eighteen months.”

“No,” he said
honestly. “But I’ll wager that you haven’t been, either. So answer my question;
when was your last boyfriend and how serious was it?”

Morgan’s reply
was casual. “Nine months ago,” she said. “It wasn’t too serious. He was a nice
guy but he wanted to party constantly. It was like he never moved out of the
Frat house.  Every night was a party and at my age, I just wasn’t into it.”

Fox digested the
statement.  “I know what you mean,” he said. “Sometimes I think I’m the most boring
bloke in the world because I work, I go home, I go to the gym on occasion, I
sleep and eat, and that’s about it. But right now, my career is very important
to me.”

“But you do
date?”

He nodded. “If a
worthy candidate comes along, I do,” he said. “At least, I did until I met you.
But I really hate dating.”

She laughed
softly. “Me, too.”

He squeezed her
hand. “But what you and I are doing… I don’t consider it dating. I consider it
a relationship.”

She smiled at
him. “That’s because it is.”

He kissed her
hand and held it possessively against his big chest as they passed beneath a
beautiful archway, Moorish in design with lovely turquoise tiles, all part of
the original marketplace built by the Turks so long ago. In spite of its age,
the arch was beautifully intact. Fox was looking up at the arch as he spoke.

“Is there
anything else you want to know?” he asked.

“Yes,” she
replied without hesitation. “Where did you get your unique first name?”

He smiled,
tearing is attention from the archway to look at her. “It was my mother’s
maiden name,” he told her. “All of my brothers have old family names as well;
Chase, Marsh, Chat and Lowe.”

She lifted an
eyebrow. “Very unique,” she said. “Are all of them as big and good looking as
you are?”

His grin broadened.
“Of course not,” he joked. “I’m the Adonis of the group.  Now let’s talk about
you; where did you get your name? That’s not a standard American girl name.”

Morgan wriggled
her eyebrows. “You’re not going to believe this, but my father is a huge Old
West buff.  I’m named after Morgan Earp because I was supposed to be a boy. My
older brother’s name is Wyatt and my younger sister’s name is Josie.”

Fox looked at
her with a big grin on his face. “You’re certainly not a boy.”

She laughed.
“No, I’m not, but until Josie was born, my dad had Wyatt and Morgan in the
family. He was thrilled.