The Seventh Scroll - Smith Wilbur. Страница 10
haven't heard from you for an absolute age. How are your They chatted
for a short while, but Royan was aware of the cost of the call. "Is the
Prof in?" she cut it short.
Professor Percival Dixon was over seventy and should have retired years
ago. "Royan, is it really you? My favourite student." She smiled. Even
at his age he was still the randy old goat. All the pretty ones were his
favourite students.
"This is an international call, Prof. I just want to know if the offer
is still open."
"My goodness, I thought you said that you couldn't fit us in, whatr
"Change of circumstances. I'll tell you about it when I see you, if I
see you."
"Of course, we' love to have you come and talk to us.
When can you manage to get awayr
"I'll be in England tomorrow."
'my goodness, that's a bit sudden. Don't know if we can arrange it that
quickly."
"I will be staying with my mother near York. Put me back to Miss Higgins
and I will give her the telephone number." He was one of the most
brilliant men she knew, but she didn't trust him to write down a
telephone number correctly. "I'll call you in a few days' time."
She hung up and lay back on the bed. She was exhausted and her arm was
still hurting, but she tried to lay her plans to cover all
eventualities.
Two months ago Prof Dixon had invited her to lecture on the discovery
and excavation of the tomb of Queen Lostris,. and the discovery of the
scrolls. It was that book, of course, and more especially the footnote
at the end of it, that had alerted him. Its publication had caused a
great deal of interest. They had received enquiries from Egyptologists,
both amateur and professional, all around the world, some from as far
afield as Tokyo and Nairobi, all of them questioning the authenticity of
the novel and the factual basis behind it.
At the time she had opposed letting a writer of fiction have access to
the transcriptions, especially as they had not been completed. She felt
that the whole thing had reduced what should have been an important and
serious academic subject to the level of popular entertainment, rather
like what Spielberg had done to palaeontology with his park full of
dinosaurs.
In the end her voice had been over-ruled. Even Duraid had sided against
her. It had been the money, of course. The department was always short
of funds to conduct its less spectacular work. When it came to some
grandiose scheme like moving the entire Temple of Abu Simbel to a new
site above the flood waters of the Aswan High Dam, then the nations of
the world had poured in tens of millions of dollars. However, the
day-to'day operational expenses of the department attracted no such
support.
Their half share of the royalties from River God, for that was the
book's title, had financed almost a year of research and exploration,
but that was not enough to allay Royan's personal misgivings. The author
had taken too many liberties with the facts contained in the scrolls,
and had embroidered historical characters with personalities and foibles
for which there was not the least evidence. In particular she felt he
had portrayed Taita, the ancient scribe, as a braggart and a
vainglorious poseur. She resented that.
in fairness she was forced to concede that the author's brief had been
to make the facts as palatable and readable as possible to a wide lay
public, and she reluctantly agreed that he had succeeded in doing so.
However, all her scientific training revolted against such a
popularization of something so unique and wonderful.
But she sighed and put these thoughts out of her head.
The damage was done, and thinking about it only served to irritate her.
She turned her thoughts to more pressing problems. If she was to do the
lecture that the Prof had invited her to deliver, then she would need
her slides and these were still at her office in the museum. While she
was still working out the best way to get hold of them without fetching
them in Person, exhaustion overtook her and she fell asleep, still fully
clothed, on top of the bed.
the end the solution to her problem was simplicity itself. She merely
phoned the administration office and arranged for them to collect the
box of slides from her office and send it out to the airport in a taxi
with one of the secretaries.
When the secretary handed them over to her at the British Airways
check'in desk, he told her, "The police were at the Museum when we
opened this morning. They wanted to speak to you, Doctor."
Obviously they had traced the registration of the wrecked Renault. She
was pleased that she had her British Passport. If she had tried to leave
the country with her Egyptian papers she might have run into delays: the
police would probably have placed a restriction order on all passport
control points. As it was, she passed through the checkpoint with no
difficulty and, once she was in.the final departure lounge, she went to
the news-stand and studied the array of newspapers.
All the local newspapers carried the story of the bombing of her car,
and most of them had resurrected the story of Duraid's murder and linked
the two events. One of them hinted at fundamentalist religious
involvement. El Arab had a front-page photograph of herself and Duraid,
which had been taken the previous month at a reception for a group of
visiting French tour operators.
It gave her a pang to see the photograph of her husband looking so
handsome and distinguished, with herself on his arm smiling up at him.
She purchased copies of all the papers and took them on board the
British Airways flight.
During the flight she passed the time by writing down in her notebook
everything she could remember from what Duraid had told her of the man
that she was going to find..
She headed the page: "Sir Nicholas Quenton-Harper (Bart)." Duraid had
told her that Nicholas's great-grand, father had been awarded the title
of baronet for his work as a career officer in the British colonial
service. For three generations the family had maintained the strongest
of ties with Africa, and especially with the British colonies and
spheres of influence in North Africa: Egypt and the Sudan, Uganda and
Kenya.
According to Duraid, Sir Nicholas himself had served in Africa and the
Gulf States with the British army. He was a fluent Arabic and Swahili
speaker and a noted amateur archaeologist and zoologist. Like his
father, grandfather and great-grandfather before him, he had made
numerous expeditions to North Africa to collect specimens and to explore
the more remote regions. He had written a number of articles for various
scientific journals and had even lectured at the Royal Geographical
Society.
When his elder brother died childless, Sir Nicholas had inherited the
title and the family estate at Quenton Park. He had resigned from the
army to run the estate, but more especially to supervise the family
museum that had been started in 1885 by his great-grandfather, the first
baronet. It housed one of the largest collections of African fauna in
private hands, and its ancient Egyptian and Middle Eastern collection of
artefacts was equally famous.
However, from Duraid's accounts she concluded that there must be a wild,
and even lawless, streak in Sir Nicholas's nature. It was obvious that