‘Ah,’ said Rachel.
‘No,’ said Pelham. ‘Luke was with one of his fellow lecturers at the time. Maria. They were thinking of getting hitched. It was his Vice Chancellor who couldn’t keep his hands off Gloria.’
‘My old friend Charlie,’ said Olivia. ‘The oiliest, nastiest man you could imagine. Born to privilege, never for one moment doubting that it was deserved.’
‘I know the type,’ said Rachel.
‘Gloria’s usually nothing but sunshine,’ continued Pelham. ‘Suddenly she turns overcast. Luke says something to cheer her up. She bursts into tears. He asks her what’s going on. She won’t say. He insists. She breaks down, spills everything. She’s not illegal, exactly. She’s one of the forgotten, lost between asylum and immigration. Charlie had found this out somehow and had bullied her into his bed.’
‘His brother’s a high-up at the Home Office,’ said Olivia. ‘He really could have had her deported.’
‘Anyway, she fell pregnant,’ said Pelham. ‘She didn’t have money for a kid, and abortion was against her faith. So she went to Charlie and he went crazy. He denied it all, threatened her with the first plane to Kinshasa if she ever breathed a word. All this now comes pouring out. Luke loses his rag. He charges off to confront Charlie, shocks him into a confession and a promise to support Gloria and her kid. Gloria’s over the moon. Luke thinks it’s job done. But then he doesn’t see her any more. He asks about her; her colleagues won’t meet his eye. And now Charlie denies the whole thing, threatens to have him fired.’
‘I don’t believe this,’ said Rachel. ‘What did Luke do?’
‘He keeps looking. He hears word she’s been taken to a camp for expedited deportation. He drives straight over, demands to see her. They deny she’s there. He sees her at a window. They still deny it. That’s when he loses his head, tries to force his way inside. They hold him back. He makes threats; he pushes a guard. All of it caught on CCTV. So they charge him with assault and some absurd offence under the new Terrorism Act. First offence, good character, he gets a suspended sentence. But that’s still enough for Charlie to have him fired and made unemployable. And then he forced Luke’s girlfriend to choose. She chose her career.’
‘And Gloria?’
Pelham shrugged. ‘We tried private detectives. But there was no record of her leaving the UK or arriving in the DRC. No official evidence she ever even existed. Unless you believe Luke, that is.’
Rachel nodded. She looked down. It was a while since she’d climbed a rope, but it felt like one of those skills that stayed with you. She rummaged through the toolbox, found an old battery lamp, strapped it around her wrist. Then she sat on the edge of the well and gripped the rope tight.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ asked Olivia.
‘Luke’s on his own down there,’ said Rachel. ‘I think he deserves some help.’
II
The desert night was fabulous with stars, now that they’d left Be’er Sheva behind. And the road was almost empty of traffic, nothing but sand and rock either side of them until the Red Sea.
Avram Kohen glanced at his nephew Uri, his brow slightly furrowed as he concentrated on driving, on not letting himself be lulled by the relentless uniformity of the landscape. There was something so childishly serious in his expression that it provoked an unexpected pang of fondness in Avram. He’d never been tempted by fatherhood, but he did enjoy being an uncle, taking promising young men into his Jerusalem home, helping them find their true selves. Mostly, like Uri, they had some measure of blood-kinship; but all that he really asked was that their hearts and minds were open to the Lord, praise His Name. It was one of the most rewarding parts of his life, but it could break your heart when it went wrong.
In the darkness, it was hard to see the turning. He kept checking the odometer to see the distance travelled. Any moment now. The road rose sharply, kinked right. He motioned for Uri to slow. ‘There,’ he said, pointing to a delta of tyre marks in the sand. They bumped and lurched along a desert track for fifteen minutes, Avram pointing out silvery acacias, gaunt rocks and other minor landmarks for Uri to remember. They pulled up by a pair of boulders at the foot of a small hill. ‘From here we walk,’ said Avram. They went around back, took a flashlight and a pack each. They crossed a rocky ridge and descended a steep escarpment into a sandy valley. Avram unzipped the packs and handed Uri a shovel. ‘That’s it,’ he said, pointing to the spot. ‘Dig.’
They took it in turns, working by starlight, now that their eyes had adjusted. The sand was soft and dry and kept trickling back into the growing pit. It was Uri who struck steel. His excitement was obvious as he cleared the trunk’s lid then tried unsuccessfully to open it.
‘It’s padlocked,’ said Avram, tossing him the keys.
Uri stood back to lift its lid. He shone down his torch then looked in puzzlement up at Avram. ‘It’s empty,’ he said.
Avram took out his handgun and aimed it down at his nephew. ‘Not for much longer,’ he told him.
NINETEEN
I
The passage had proved broad but not quite tall enough for Luke. He’d had to crouch his way along it, holding his torch out ahead of him both for light and to break the cobweb veils before they caught in his face and hair. The floor was so thick with dust that his shoes left moonwalk prints in it. After fifteen paces or so, the passage kinked left and he found himself at the top of a flight of steps that led down into a square chamber with a vaulted roof. But there was no sign of any iron, let alone gold.
Both sides of the chamber were hewn from bedrock, but the facing wall was brick. The mortar had dried to a crumble over the centuries, making it strangely satisfying to pick away. He jiggled a brick like a milk tooth until it came free. He set it down and shone his torch into the space, only to find another wall directly behind it.
A noise behind him made him jump. He’d become so engrossed in his work that he’d forgotten about the others. ‘Hey,’ said Rachel, coming down into the chamber. ‘What have you found?’
He stepped aside, the better to let her see for herself. ‘There’s another wall behind,’ he said.
‘A dead end?’
He shrugged. ‘Why brick up a dead end?’
Rachel gestured at the passage. ‘I promised I’d let them know you were okay. I’ll be straight back.’
He returned his attention to the wall, soon had a second and then a third brick out. There was still no sign of Rachel. He was beginning to wonder what was keeping her when finally she reappeared carrying a pair of white plastic bags. She set them down on the floor, pulled out a digital camera from one, snapped off a shot of him by the wall. The flash in the small chamber made him blink. ‘For posterity,’ she said, as it began the mosquito whining of a recharge. ‘Olivia insists we document everything.’
‘Good thinking,’ said Luke. He checked her bag for other goodies. A claw hammer and a chisel, some chocolate bars from the gift shop and two large bottles of water that made him realize how dry his mouth had become. He swilled and spat some out, then drank so thirstily that it splashed down his shirt. He grabbed the claw hammer and went back to work, quickly revealing some kind of recess behind.
Rachel held up her lamp and peered. ‘Is that wood?’ she asked.
‘Looks like it,’ said Luke.
‘A door?’
‘Let’s find out.’ He freed another brick, provoked a creaking, splintering sound. Rachel grabbed his arm and dragged him tumbling backwards as the whole wall collapsed in a noisy heap, throwing up clouds of choking dust. Luke got to his feet, coughing violently, his eyes raw and streaming. He grabbed one of the bottles of water and followed Rachel up the steps and along the passage to clearer air. He uncapped the water and gave it to Rachel, took it back after she was done, gratefully swilling out his mouth. His torch had broken in his fall, so Rachel held up hers. Dust had turned their hair and faces prematurely grey. ‘The future, huh?’ he smiled.
