The Cairo Code by Glenn Meade Read Free Book Online

bougainvillea scenting the night air, the window boxes full of flowers. The residency gardens were magnificent, a wooden pavilion in the grounds was lit up with colored lights, and the majestic Nile lay beyond the walls. But that night there seemed an incredible stillness about the city, the usual traffic noise the merest whisper.
    As he stood there, enjoying the solitude and the perfumed air, the door opened and Rachel appeared, wearing a simple black dress that hugged her figure, Jack Halder behind her. He wore a linen suit and held a bottle of ice-cold champagne and three glasses. As he handed a glass across, he smiled. “Quite a party, isn’t it? But you look like you’ve had enough dancing for one evening, Harry. We thought we might find you somewhere quiet. Have another drink.”
    â€œWhy not.” Weaver took the champagne, and when Rachel was handed hers she placed it on the balcony, untouched, a sudden exhaustion showing in her face.
    â€œTired?” Weaver asked.
    She smiled. “I’m afraid you and Jack have worn me off my feet.”
    Halder said, “By the way, before I forget, there’s a few important people who’d like to meet you, Rachel.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œThe ambassador wants to pay his respects, and a fellow named Kemal Assan. He’s the son of an Egyptian dignitary who’s an acquaintance of my father’s. There’s also a visiting professor from the British Museum who’s had far too much to drink and speaks like this—” Halder pinched his nose in a mock gesture and imitated a perfect upper-class English accent. “They’re a boring lot, my dear, so I told the ruddy chaps you’re tired and they can’t keep you long. Shall I fetch them in?”
    Rachel giggled. ‘Thanks, Jack.”
    He went out and Rachel said, “So, this is our last evening together, Harry. I’ll miss you.”
    â€œYou mean that?”
    â€œOf course.” She looked into his face. “You know what’s strange? I know so little of your background. Jack’s is an open book. An American mother and a wealthy Prussian father who’s a well-known collector of Egyptian artifacts. Languages and the classics at Heidelberg, and a year at Oxford in between.” She laughed. “You can tell—he does that funny, upper-class English accent so well. But you’ve never spoken much about your past, except for the few things you’ve told me about. You graduated in engineering in New York, and you and Jack have been friends since childhood.” She smiled. “There has to be much more, unless you’re keeping secrets. Tell me how you both met. I’d love to know.”
    Weaver sipped his champagne, looked out over the balcony. “There isn’t much to tell. When I was five, my father became the caretaker on the estate belonging to the family of Jack’s mother. It’s a big, rambling old place in upstate New York. We were the only two children, both only sons, and I guess it was natural we’d either become rivals or friends. But we became friends, right from the very start. Whenever we were together, we’d spend our time getting up to mischief on the estate. The Troublesome Two, his father called us. Sure, his family were wealthy, and mine were just ordinary folks, but Franz Halder always treated us with respect, no matter that we came from different sides of the tracks. He was never a snob and he made sure his son wasn’t one, either. Even as a small boy, Jack was always good fun to be with, and a great companion. There isn’t a pretentious bone in his body.”
    â€œWhat drew you to Egypt?”
    â€œAfter I graduated last year, I went to work for a civil engineering firm in New York. But to tell the truth, after a couple of months I was beginning to find it boring. Jack’s father liked to keep some of his collection at the estate. As children we’d see the kind of