Missing in Egypt (23 page)

That evening John cooked me a lovely meal – salmon in garlic and white wine, baby potatoes and a green salad.
 
This was followed by a strawberry cheesecake and icecream and coffee with liqueur.
 
Over dessert I asked him how his day had gone.
 
“Oh, pretty good” he replied “how was yours?”
 
“Not bad.” I answered.
 
“With the changes to Social Security we are getting quite a few of those inquiries now - makes a change from immigration anyway. Did your business today go okay?” I asked. John’s eyes narrowed as he looked at me quizzically.
 
I could see he was wondering if I had seen the fax he had received that morning.
 
I gazed innocently into his eyes.
 
“It was fine” he said and with that he changed the subject by standing up to clear the dishes. I decided I was being paranoid.
 
After all, what could he possibly be involved in that was not on the up and up.
 
I pushed the little feeling of uncertainty away and enjoyed the rest of the evening.

I don’t know what got into me the next morning when he was in the shower and I started to make the bed and saw a bulging briefcase sticking out from under the bed.
 
I pulled it out and opened it – it wasn’t locked.
 
Inside were wads of $100 bills!
 
I stared at it for a moment – there must have been thousands of dollars in it.
 
Then I quickly closed it and pushed it further under the bed and finished pulling up the sheets – my head reeling.
 
When John came out of the shower I tried to act normally but I left as quickly as I could to gather my thoughts.

Of course it could be perfectly legitimate.
 
When he left the Department he could have had long-service leave payable and might have drawn it out to put it in a different Bank account today.
 
Surely he wouldn’t leave it unlocked if it was not legitimate? But that was more than long-service leave – he must have been putting all his money into a different Bank.
 
But why wouldn’t he have asked for a cheque?
 
There must be a perfectly logical explanation, I thought but - try as I might - I couldn’t come up with one.
 
I couldn’t wait for Friday to come when I would stay overnight again and could see if the briefcase was still there.

As soon as John went for his shower I looked under the bed.
 
The briefcase was still there!
 
Would it still be full of money?
 
I flicked it open as quickly as I could and,

sure enough, there was the money.
 
What was going on?
 
I couldn’t believe that anyone would have a legal stash of money that big under the bed – despite Malcolm Fraser’s suggestion when he was Prime Minister.

Over the next few days I wrestled with this problem, but came no closer to working out a solution in my head.
 
This put quite a strain on my relationship with John.
 
When I was with him I couldn’t believe he could do anything wrong.
 
When I was away from him my brain went into overload.
 
I had to get this sorted - and quickly - before John sensed something was wrong.

6.
Hard Decisions

Mrs Hazif rang me to say that Yasmeen had arrived in
Australia
and asked me if I would come for dinner to meet her.
 
Of course I said I would be delighted and it was arranged for the following Thursday night.
 
I was excited to finally be meeting the famous Yasmeen.
 

Ramy opened the door and gave me a hug.
 
His mother was standing behind him and kissed me warmly.
 
Then Ramy introduced Yasmeen. She was indeed as beautiful as Ramy had described her and obviously as much in love with him as he was with her.
 
It was wonderful to see the love in their eyes as they gazed at each other across the table.
 
“How is your father, Yasmeen?” I inquired.
 
“Oh, he is good.” she replied.
 
“He is just so happy that we are both safe and to be back with my mother and brothers.
 
Life is just so much more precious when you have looked death in the face.”
 
I nodded my agreement.
 
“He can’t stop talking about the beauty of the objects we handled though. To touch items of such splendour, as an antique dealer, and then not to see them again, is very hard – and for me too. He is hoping to get back the golden collar and the dagger.
 
They were amongst the items still left in the shed and they were taken along with the other items as evidence.
 
Now that the trial is over he thinks they may be returned to him. Even though they too were plundered from the tomb originally they had been in his possession for a very long time.
 
He hopes the authorities may look on it as a little reward for what we have been through and for bringing at least three of those involved to account.
 
They couldn’t believe that my

father would have known of the tomb for all those years and never did anything about it or told anyone else.

He went to the trial every day you know. He was hoping that one of them would crack and divulge the names of those who were really responsible.
 
He was very disappointed that nothing further came out of the trial.
 
He looked all around the court to see if Mohammed would turn up to watch the proceedings but he never showed.”

I asked Yasmeen what she thought had happened to the two containers.
 
“It is hard to say.
 
We did hear them identified as the container going to the
US
and the one going to
Australia
.
 
If they had a ship lined up to take the containers straight on they would have got away.
 
Once Customs were notified, I cannot see how they could have got through, although of course bribery is a very big part of everyday life for us in
Egypt
.
 
It is not impossible that someone would have been offered a large sum of money to look the other way, but I’m sure the government officials themselves would have been there every day.”

After that the talk turned to the wedding, which both Ramy and Yasmeen wanted to take place as soon as possible.
 
Naturally Yasmeen wanted to be married in Egypt and so a date was settled on in April and Mrs Hazif was looking forward to her first trip to Egypt since she left there as a child.
 
I knew financially it was going to be hard for the family.
 
The ransom money had not been recovered and Mrs Hazif had mortgaged the house to raise it.
 
She had friends who owned a shop who had promised her a job and she was going back to work for the first time in 25 years.
 
Ramy was going to try and help her but of course he now had his own life to carve out.
 
Fortunately there had been a small insurance policy on Mr Hazif’s life which had enabled her to pay part of the mortgage off and to pay for her and Ramy’s trip to
Egypt
for the wedding.
 
Kareem had also saved a reasonable sum whilst living at home which was also put back into the mortgage.

“It has been so lovely to meet you, Yasmeen” I said as I took my leave.
 
“I’m sure you and Ramy will be very happy together.”
 
“Thank you” she replied.
 
“I am so sorry that you lost Kareem.
 
You must be very sad.
 
We will send you an invitation to the wedding – you can stay with us. I hope you will come but of course we will understand if you never want to return to
Egypt
.”
 
I hadn’t mentioned John Turner, apart from saying in passing that he was back in
Australia
and we had caught up a couple of times.
 
How could I explain how I had taken up with someone else so soon after Kareem’s death?
 
I couldn’t explain it to myself, let alone to Kareem’s family.
 
Life goes on, but in my case, it was moving forward a little too fast!

When the wedding invitation came I was of two minds whether to accept or decline.
 
I could just scrape up the airfare and Waleed had sent a handwritten note asking me to stay with them for a few days.
 
It would be nice to see her again and to represent Kareem at his brother’s wedding.
 
I showed the invitation to John, which as usual was extended to “Anna and friend.”
 
“If you want to come, I’ll tell them about you.
 
I’m sure they will understand.”
 
“No thanks” John replied a little off-handedly.
 
“I don’t think its appropriate for me to attend under the circumstances and, to tell the truth, I’m not very keen to return to
Egypt
so soon after leaving.”
 

I thought about asking Sandra to come with me but in the end I caught a flight back to
Egypt
with Mrs Hazif and Ramy.
 
They were very excited of course, whilst I was just uneasy.
 
The thought of returning to the place of Kareem’s death was unsettling – there were so many memories in
Cairo
, both good and bad and I was not at all sure it had been a good idea to return.
 
In the end though I decided just to concentrate on the wedding, imagine I was anywhere in the world but
Egypt
and think about returning to
Australia
and John as soon as it was over.

Yasmeen and Waleed were at the airport to meet us.
 
They had arranged accommodation nearby for Ramy and his mother, in a small hotel which was within walking distance of their home.
 
On the journey from the airport the heat, the chaos of the roads and the never-ending honking of horns felt like it was closing in on me.
 
I was glad when we arrived at the Ahmose house and Waleed served ice-cold tea in the darkened living room.
 
“It is lovely to see you again, my dear” she said.
 
“It must be very hard for you to come back here.”
 
I nodded and sipped my tea.
 
“As soon as you have finished your tea, you must lie down for a while” she suggested, much to my relief. As soon as I could I escaped to my room and within minutes of lying down I went into a deep sleep.

That evening Mr Ahmose, along with Omar and Pili returned from the shop.
 
The boys seemed pleased to see me and it was great to finally meet Masud.
 
I was feeling much better after my rest and Masud greeted me enthusiastically.
 
“You saved our lives – if it wasn’t for you being so sure there was a storage shed out past Gahiji’s, our usefulness would have been outlived and we would be dead.
 
How can I even thank you enough?” “It was just a lucky hunch” I laughed.
 
“You have to thank John Turner from the
Australian Embassy
and the Egyptian police who were prepared to act on a woman’s intuition.” He hugged me and planted a kiss on both cheeks.
 
“Come, we must drink to our good health” he said, pouring me a large glass of wine.

Whilst I drank my wine I had the chance to assess Masud.
 
He was shorter than Waleed and seemed to have put on any weight he might have lost whilst he was held captive, as his suit fitted him well. He walked with a slight limp, which I assumed was from the bullet wound.
 
Pili had his nose and eyes, I thought and Omar has his mouth.
 
He had a long moustache which he had twirled at the ends to make them stiff and straight and dark eyebrows that met in the middle of his nose. He noticed me looking at his moustache and said “What do you think of it, eh?
 
I have always wanted a moustache and I had the chance to grow one whilst we were held captive.
 
I don’t think Waleed likes it very much though, do you dear?”
 
“It tickles” was all that Waleed was prepared to say.