Sphinx by Robin Cook Read Free Book Online

proud parent. “It is only resting here for a few hours before it resumes its journey. I thought you’d like to see it.”
    â€œOh, Abdul. It is so beautiful, I’m speechless. Truly.” Erica came back around the front of the statue, noting for the first time the hieroglyphics cut into the base. Immediately she recognized the name of Pharaoh Seti I, contained within the enclosure called a cartouche. Then she saw another cartouche with another name. Thinking it an alternate name for Seti I, she began to translate. To her astonishment, the name was Tutankhamen. It didn’t make sense. Seti I was an extremely important and powerful pharaoh who had ruled some fifty years after the insignificant boy king Tutankhamen. The two pharaohs were in different dynasties from totally separate families. Erica was sure that she must have made a mistake, but checking again, she realized she had been right. The hieroglyphics contained both names.
    The sharp crackling noise from the beads in the outer part of the shop brought Abdul instantly to his feet. “Erica, please excuse, but I must be reasonably careful.” The dark cloth cover settled back over the fabulous statue. For Erica it was like being prematurely awakened from a wonderful dream. In front of her was a nondescript shapeless mass. “Let me attend to the customers. I will be right back. Enjoy your tea . . . perhaps you’d like a little more?”
    â€œNo, thank you,” said Erica, who wanted to see the statue again, not drink more tea.
    As Abdul shuffled over to the curtain and carefully peered out, Erica picked up the now-developed Polaroidpicture. Except for missing part of Abdul’s head, the snapshot was fine. She thought about taking a shot of the statue if Abdul would agree.
    Apparently whoever was outside was in no rush, because, letting the curtains go, Abdul moved back over to his cedar chest. Erica sat down on her cushion.
    â€œDo you have a guidebook for Egypt?” asked Abdul in a quiet voice.
    â€œYes,” said Erica. “I managed to get a Nagel’s guide.”
    â€œI have something better,” said Abdul, pulling a small aging book from among his correspondence. “Here is a Baedeker, 1929 edition. It is the best for touring the monuments of Egypt. I’d be pleased if you’d use it during your stay here in my country. It is far superior to the Nagel’s.”
    â€œYou are so kind,” said Erica, taking the book. “I’ll be very careful with it. Thank you.”
    â€œIt pleases me to make your visit more enjoyable,” said Abdul, walking back to the curtain, where he hesitated again. “If you have difficulty getting the book to me when you leave Egypt, return it to the man whose name and address are written in the flyleaf. I travel a lot and might not be in Cairo at the time.” He smiled and walked through to the store. The heavy drapes snapped back into place.
    Erica flipped through the guidebook, noting the plethora of drawings and fold-out maps. The description of the Temple of Karnak, given Baedeker’s highest rating of four stars, was almost forty pages. It looked superb. The next chapter commenced with a series of copper engravings of Queen Hatshepsut’s temple, followed by a long description, which Erica was particularly interested in reading. She slipped the snapshot of Abdul into the book, both to mark the place and to preserve the photograph, and put both into her tote bag.
    Alone in the room, she let her attention wander back to the fabulous statue of Seti I. She had all she could do to keep herself from reaching over and lifting the veil to look at the curious row of hieroglyphics. She wondered if it would really be a violation of trust if she looked atthe statue. Reluctantly she decided it would be, and she was about to take out the guidebook when she heard a definite change in the muffled conversation coming from the outer part of the