she listened dutifully.
'Then there is Herr von Schiller. He has the money and the interest in
the subject, but I do not know him well enough to trust him entirely.'
He paused, and Royan had listened to these musings so often before that
she could anticipate him.
'What about the American? He is a famous collector,' she forestalled
him.
'Peter Walsh is a difficult man to work with. His passion to accumulate
makes him unscrupulous. He frightens me a little.'
'So who does that leave?' she asked.
He did not reply, for they both knew the answer to her question.
Instead, he turned his attention back to the material that littered the
work table.
'It looks so innocent, so mundane. An old papyrus scroll, a few
photographs and notebooks, a computer printout. It is difficult to
believe how dangerous these might be in the wrong hands.' He sighed
again. 'You might almost say that they are deadly dangerous.'
Then he laughed. 'I am being fanciful. Perhaps it is the late hour.
Shall we get back to work? We can worry about these other matters once
we have worked out all the conundrums set for us by this old rogue,
Taita, and completed the translation.'
He picked up the top photograph from the pile in front of him. It was an
extract from the central section of the scroll. 'It is the worst luck
that the damaged piece of papyrus falls where it does.' He picked up his
reading glasses and placed them on his nose before he read aloud.
''There are many steps to ascend on the staircase to the abode of Hapi.
With much hardship and endeavour we reached the second step and
proceeded no further, for it was here that the prince received a divine
revelation. In a dream his father, the dead god pharaoh, visited him and
commanded him, 'I have travelled far and I am grown weary. It is here
that I will rest for all eternity.'' Duraid removed his glasses and
looked across at Royan, ''The second step'. It is a very precise
description for once. Taita is not being his usual devious self.'
'Let's go back to the satellite. photographs,' Royan suggested, and drew
the glossy sheet towards her. Duraid came around the table to stand
behind her.
'To me it seems most logical that the natural feature that would
obstruct them in the gorge would be something like a set of rapids or a
waterfall. If it were the second waterfall, that would put them here-'
Royan placed her finger on a spot on the satellite photograph where the
narrow snake of the river threaded itself through the dark massifs of
the mountains on either hand.
At that moment she was distracted and she lifted her head. 'Listen!' Her
voice changed, sharpening with alarm.
'What is it?' Duraid looked up also.
'The dog,' she answered.
'That damn mongrel,' he agreed. 'It is always making the night hideous
with its yapping. I have promised myself to get rid of him.'
At that moment the lights went out.
They froze with surprise in the darkness. The soft thudding of the
