The Volcano That Changed The World (21 page)

“For now, yes.
I can always come back to gather more things later. I just want to leave as soon as possible and set up elsewhere.”

It was as if she hurried her exit before she had a chance to change her mind.
He carried her things to her car, putting them in the trunk. Standing in the driveway, he asked, “Are you going to leave a message?”

“No, I
feel I owe it to him to call and speak directly with him. But I don’t want to see him.” She thought a moment. “Who knows, if I say nothing, it may take him a few days to even miss me.”

Carter thought a moment and said, “If and when you speak to him, I
would appreciate it if you didn’t mention the purpose of my visit today, nothing about Sam and the student. Okay?”

“I won’t,” she promised. “I want to keep it brief, just inform him I have move
d out and want a divorce.”

“And if he asks why?”

“I will tell him our marriage has been over for years. It’s time to make it official.”

“Good luck and be prepared to take some abuse. You know he is likely to fly off the handle.”

“I know. I’m ready. He can no longer hurt me. I will be strong, I promise.”

After a moment of silence, Carter asked,
“Where are you going to stay?”

“I have no idea. Do you have a
ny suggestions?” She looked slightly panicked as the thought of leaving sunk in.

“Do you have a friend
you could stay with?” He knew her family was from near Atlanta, too far away.

“I have several friends, but none I want to impose on for this
, at least not now. Plus, we could not be together easily if I’m staying with someone else.”

He had to agree. “That makes good sense.”

“So,” she said, “any ideas?”

He pondered her question a moment.
“It may take a while to find a more permanent place, so you should look for someplace with more than just a bedroom. There’s the Residence Inn north of here near I-10. They probably have monthly rates for their suites.”

“I like that idea,” s
he said enthusiastically. “I know where that is.”

“
Priscilla, do you need any money?” It was a subject he felt could not be avoided.

She paused
before answering. “No, but thanks for asking. We have joint banking accounts and I plan to change that today by withdrawing my share of the money. That should hold me over.” Smiling, she added, “And if you prove that Sam is the father of this child, there should be plenty more money in my future.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Matt, could you drive over to the hotel with me? I could use the moral support.”

He hesitated,
and then said, “I’d love to come with you, but right now, I need to get this sample of Sam’s hair to the lab. Plus the pregnant student is going to be tested this afternoon at the hospital and I want to be there. I’ll come by later.” He hoped she would understand.

“That’s fine, as long as you come by tonight.”
She tried to be upbeat, but sounded disappointed.

“I will, I promise.” He kissed her.

As he turned away, she said, “Matt.”

“Yes.”
He turned back.

“
I know I read her name in the paper, but can’t remember it now. What is it?”

He paused. “Are you sure you want to know?”

Without hesitation, “Yes.”

“Her name is Shad
ron.” He decided to withhold her last name.

Priscilla
’s eyes welled up again and Carter went back and held her.

He l
et go and reached in his pocket, pulling out his notepad. He wrote something, ripped the page out, and handed it to her.

She looked at it and read the name
out loud, “Caitlyn Black.” She looked up at Carter questioningly.

“Caitlyn is a good divorce attorney. You
can find her in the phone book. A couple of cops I know have been divorced and Caitlyn represented their wives.” He knew Caitlyn was an aggressive attorney, obtaining favorable awards for her clients who were exclusively women. Carter smiled, thinking about how Ms. Black would rip into Bolton.

“Thanks
,” Priscilla said, as she dried her eyes and put the piece of paper in her purse. Then she opened her car door and got in. Through the open door, she said, “I’ll call you when I’m settled. Perhaps we can have dinner tonight and I will show you my new home.”

“That sounds great.”
Carter closed her door and she backed out.

Watching her drive away, he wondered where all this was heading
, his case and his relationship with Priscilla, hoping the two were not on a collision course.

When she was out of sight, his mind transitioned to the case.
He should contact Malloy, but wanted to have the results of the DNA testing first so he would have proof positive of the baby’s paternity. For now, he needed to get the sample to the lab and head to the hospital.

Chapter
Fifteen

And they [Haitians] got together and swore a pact to the devil. They said we will serve you if you will get us free from the French.
True story. And so, the devil said, okay it’s a deal. Ever since they have been cursed by one thing after the other.

—
Pat Robertson, explaining the Haiti earthquake that destroyed the capital and killed tens of thousands of people

Alexandria, Egypt, August 1998

Alexandria, about four hundred miles southeast of Crete, is located on the western edge of the broad Nile River Delta. Founded by its namesake Alexander the Great around 331 BCE, Alexandria is Egypt’s largest and oldest seaport. Its lighthouse, now destroyed, had been one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. The city also once housed the largest library in the ancient world until Julius Caesar “accidentally” burned it in 48 BCE.

             
Upon its conquest by Alexander the Great, Egypt came under Greek rule and Alexandria, a Greek city, became Egypt’s capital. Greek rule continued until the death of Queen Cleopatra, a descendant of Alexander the Great’s general Ptolemy I. Cleopatra had been the lover of Julius Caesar, and then the wife of Mark Antony until they both committed suicide in 31 BCE, hers by snakebite. At that time Egypt fell exclusively under Roman rule.

             
Alleged to be beautiful, Cleopatra was thought to be a very intelligent, shrewd woman. She was the first in the Ptolemaic dynasty to speak Egyptian, the language of those she ruled, and several other languages including the ruling-class Greek. Much of what is known about her was written after her death at age thirty-nine. Roman historians, who may have had an ax to grind because of her ability to control their leaders, presented her accomplishments in a less-than-favorable manner.

What is known for certain
is that she ruled from a grand palace complex, now lying under the murky waters of the eastern portion of the Port of Alexandria. On the seabed are paved roads, jetties, columns, sphinxes, amphorae, and other lost treasures. What was the cause of this Alexandrian devastation? A tsunami triggered by an earthquake on Crete in 365 CE.

As his plane came in for landing at Alexandria’s airport, Mark was excited to explore the city and visit some of its archeological sites. He particularly hoped to draw on his diving experience from his childhood in Florida to visit the sunken palace of Cleopatra.

The irony of the connection
between Cleopatra’s palace’s destruction and Crete, given Crete’s own history with a tsunami, was not lost on him.

***

His departure from
Heraklion had been both a happy and sad occasion. He and Alexia had spent considerable time together over the summer, establishing a close bond, both professional and personal. It was a unique relationship for Mark, having a friend and respected colleague with whom he also enjoyed having sex.

She felt the same
, once playfully asking him, “Can one desire too much of a good thing?” This time he recognized the line from
As You Like It
, knowing that “thing” was a euphemism for sex, even in Shakespeare’s time. His sudden and unexpected decision to leave for Egypt was a slight shock to Alexia—and even to him. But Hickenbottom’s plea, and the promise of more discoveries, helped him make up his mind.

The day before his departure was spent at the Knossos P
alace, exploring portions of the structure he had missed on earlier visits. He focused on looking for damage caused by the tsunami. Alexia and Mark spent that evening on the beach. Strolling hand in hand, they talked about their first meeting on Santorini and the various adventures they had shared since.

At one point they caressed and began kissing. Next they w
ere lying on the beach naked, making love. During their passionate encounter, Mark could not help but think of the scene in
From Here To Eternity
where Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr kissed on the beach, waves gently caressing their prone bodies. It was a perfect sendoff, but as romantic as the evening was, it was the uncomfortable sand that stuck to every part of their bodies that he would always remember.

Afterward, they laughed about the sand and w
ent for an evening swim to wash it off. In addition to the sand, he would always remember the way the moonlight glistened off Alexia’s wet body as they made their way back to the beach to retrieve their clothes. Had she carried a bow, she could easily have been mistaken for the goddess Artemis, the goddess of the hunt he had learned about on Delos. He knew he would stay in touch with Alexia and was already thinking of reasons to return to Crete.

Before leaving him at the airport, Alexia gave Mark a note telling him, “Don’t read this until you’re in the air, promise? It’s nothing, really, just a little something to remind you of me.”

“Yes, of course
. I won’t read it until I leave,” he had said.

They kiss
ed goodbye and he boarded his plane.

As soon as the wheels w
ere off the ground, he opened the note.

Dear Mark,

This has been my most memorable
summer thanks to you, Mr. Science. I hope you will remember our time on Santorini and the other Greek islands as fondly as I will. My initial thought was to send you off with one of my favorite Shakespeare quotes, but on second thought, a limerick seemed more appropriate.

There was a geologist named Mark,

Who s
tudied volcanoes for a lark.

New findings
he did discover

And took on a Greek lover
.

An
d so, much probing he did spark.

The risqué aspect depends on whether you apply “probing” to the findings, to the Greek or to both. It’s not Shakespeare, but when you return to Tallahassee and need a smile, I hope this note will help. Good luck with your tenure and other issues. Please stay in touch.

With Warmest Regards,
Alexia

Mark read and reread the note until Alexandria came into view.

***

Brennan
, a tall, heavy-set man, met Mark at the El Nouzha International Airport, located a short distance from the city center. Even in the bustling airport, Hickenbottom stood out—an unforgettable character, dressed in khakis, with shaggy brown hair and a handlebar mustache that showed a tint of grey. He wore a dirty white fedora and around his neck was a large sweat-stained white handkerchief tied in the front.

H
e greeted Mark with a large, warm smile as they met in the terminal. “Welcome to Lower Egypt, Mark,” he said in a refined British accent.

“Thanks,” responded Mark as they shook hands.
Mark felt that the fedora rendered his FSU baseball cap somewhat inadequate.

“Also
, thanks for finding and sending photographs of those hieroglyphics. They were
very
helpful.”

Brennan
’s smile expanded, “My pleasure. I saw the news article on your work with Dr. Papadopulos. Jolly good job!”

“Thanks.” Then Mark asked, “So why am I here? What was so important to pull me away from Crete?”

With a twinkle in his eye, Brennan said,
“To make sure I’m not full of male bovine excrement.”

Mark smiled at the
sophisticated expression Brennan had just used for “bullshit.” “Okay, Brennan, why am I really here?”

“That is the reason.
I want you to visit my field site and see if you agree with my interpretations. Plus, I need a critical thinker, an open mind to use as a sounding board. I have some ideas I want to share with you. But we need to find somewhere to talk and I’ll explain.”

Before moving, Mark asked,
“As we were landing I was thinking about the Palace of Cleopatra. Any chance I could spend some time there?”

Brennan looked
at him quizzically, “You do know it’s underwater, don’t you?”

“Yes,
I am aware of its being underwater. I’m qualified to dive. I’ve dived quite a bit—”

Brennan interrupted, “We’
ll not have time for that now, but you’ve given me an idea, Mark. Some of the artifacts from the palace complex are temporarily stored in the Alexandria Nation Museum. The museum is housed in a beautifully restored villa. It’s air-conditioned and usually not that crowded. We could talk there and at the same time satisfy your desire to be close to Cleopatra.”

That was an interes
ting way of putting it, thought Mark; he did like being close to Greek women. He thought of Alexia, comparing her to Cleopatra. Both women were intelligent and used sex, Cleopatra for power and control, Alexia for pleasure. His working relationship with Brennan was going to be a dramatic change from the very informal arrangement he had with Alexia.

They collected Mark’s luggage and headed for an exit. Once outside, the first thing Mark noticed was the heat that engulfed him. He felt like he was inside a warm plastic bag. No air. It was oppressive—even to someone reared in Florida, although the humidity here was less than in the sunshine state. The temperature seemed higher. Immediately, beads of perspiration formed on his forehead and began to trickle down his face.

The next thing
s that struck him as they walked toward the parking lot were the black-and-grey flies. Dozens of them swarmed around his head. Some landed on his face and headed for his eyes, mouth and nose pursuing moisture. His mind momentarily drifted back to his first evening in Santorini when he caught the fly for his demonstration. Back to the present, at first he tried shooing them away, but soon learned that this was an exercise in futility and a waste of precious energy, especially in the scorching heat.

Noticing Mark’s efforts,
Brennan said, “Ahh. These Egyptian flies are bloody annoying.”

“No kidding,” Mark said. “I thought bugs in Florida were
bad, but the flies here are even worse.”

Mark
finally noticed the beggars and hawkers. The former displayed all sorts of deformities; the latter sold a variety of goods, from dates, the most popular fruit in ancient Egypt, to small statues of Cleopatra. Mark stopped at one vendor and purchased a large white bandana similar to Brennan’s, thinking it might be useful against the sun and heat. He was happy to be able to pay in dollars, which were readily accepted, instead of Egyptian pounds.

They reached Brennan’s Range Rover and left the airport.
As they drove through Alexandria, Egypt’s second largest city, Mark could see why it was called the pearl of the Mediterranean. The city was practically surrounded by water, being built on a strip of land separating the Mediterranean from Lake Mareotis and on a T-shaped peninsula forming the east and west harbors. Part of their journey took them along the waterfront, and the views of the city and water were spectacular.

Mark was
reminded of Venice, only with broad streets packed with bustling traffic. Certainly there was an Italian influence in some of the architecture, a legacy of Roman rule. The many shops and restaurants gave Alexandria a cosmopolitan feel; certainly there had been many Greek and Italian immigrants over the years. The influence of the Ottoman Turks was present, most noticeable, the many mosques that dotted the city with their minarets reaching skyward. All the various rulers of the city had left their mark.

As they he
aded away from the water, traffic became horrendous. Mark was glad Brennan was driving and not he; it gave him an opportunity to sightsee. Passing more shops and seeing the port in the distance, Mark couldn’t help but think that Alexandria was a faded remnant of the once powerful city it had been at the time of Cleopatra. Whereas the ancient library that housed the largest collection of books in the world had exported knowledge throughout the world, now the city’s largest export was oil.

After about an hour’s drive, they reached the museum and parked.

The National Museum was as Brennan had described—a cool and inviting villa with intricately connected rooms filled with abundant artifacts. What the museum offered was well worth the small fee they paid for admittance. Several rooms contained items from the on-going excavation of the palace in the harbor. There were Roman Imperatorial Coins displaying the profile of Queen Cleopatra. She didn’t look particularly beautiful; the Romans probably made her profile unflattering on purpose, thought Mark.

A display Mark read indicated that a
fter Cleopatra committed suicide, the Romans disposed of her possessions. He learned that her tomb was never found. The last queen of Egypt was not popular in Roman circles. The flower of the Nile had been a thorn in the side of the empire. Mark found her rebel nature appealing.

It was in
front of a small statuette of a boy pharaoh dating from the fifth century BCE that Brennan finally began to speak of his discovery.