The Heretic's Treasure by Scott Mariani Read Free Book Online Page A

surprise. He’d known that Paxton had a son, but the man in this photo wasn’t what he’d have expected.
    Paxton seemed to read Ben’s thoughts. ‘He took much more after his mother, physically. Our kind of life, the military life, wouldn’t have agreed with him.’
    ‘You talk about him in the past tense.’
    Paxton nodded. ‘I’ve made it quite obvious, haven’t I? That’s what this is about.’ His throat sounded tight with emotion. ‘The reason I asked you to come here is that my son is dead.’
    ‘I’m so sorry,’ Ben replied after a beat.
    ‘He was murdered.’
    Ben watched Paxton’s eyes. It wasn’t just pain in them now, but a depth of smouldering rage that was barely under control.
    Paxton let out a long, trembling sigh, visibly struggling to stay calm. ‘Let me get you another drink,’ he whispered. ‘Scotch, wasn’t it?’ He replaced the photo on the sideboard, reached for a decanter and topped up Ben’s glass. He poured one for himself, drained it, refilled it.
    Ben sipped the Scotch and waited for Paxton to go on.
    Paxton slumped heavily in the matching Chesterfield opposite him. ‘Morgan died in Egypt almost two months ago,’ he said. ‘He was found in his rented apartment. He’d been stabbed to death. There were thirty knife wounds in his body.’ Paxton related the details matter-of-factly but his fingers were white against the crystal glass. He gulped back the last of the drink and set the glass down heavily on the table between them.
    Ben watched every movement. He understood all too well what Paxton was going through. His heart went out to him.
    But he still didn’t understand why the colonel had called him here. ‘What was Morgan doing in Egypt?’ he asked. ‘Did he live there?’
    Paxton shook his head. ‘Morgan is…’ He paused, catching himself. Sighed and went on. ‘Morgan
was
an academic at University of London. He taught history, specialising in Near Eastern Studies. That’s what he was doing in Cairo. He was on a sabbatical, researching something to do with ancient Egypt.’
    Ben listened intently.
    ‘The police think it was an opportunistic robbery gone wrong,’ Paxton continued. ‘Whether he surprised the thieves, or they broke into the apartment while he was there, nobody knows. Or even cares. The Cairo police haven’t caught whoever did it. They’re not even close, and I don’t think they’re going to get results.’
    ‘I’m so sorry,’ Ben said again. ‘I wish there was something I—’
    ‘There is,’ Paxton said, cutting him off. They locked eyes for a moment, and Ben tried to read the look. The sadness was still there, and the rage. But there was something else. The look of a planner at work, a tactician. The mind working hard through all that pain. Focusing, not folding.
    Ben waited for the rest.
    Paxton didn’t keep him waiting long. ‘You must be wondering why I called you here. The fact is, there’s something I want you to do for me.’
    Ben was silent. He could feel his neck and shoulders tensing up with anticipation.
    ‘As you can tell, I’m not happy with the outcome of the police inquiry,’ Paxton said. ‘You wouldn’t believe how sloppy and inept they’ve been.’
    Ben had no trouble believing it-but he kept quiet.
    Paxton went on. His voice was calm and controlled, his jaw set. ‘As far as they’re concerned, Morgan was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. These things happen every day, and they appear not to be pursuing it. Just one of those things.’ Paxton paused and looked hard at Ben. ‘And that’s why I need your help. Justice hasn’t been done.’
    Ben waited. He was scared of what was coming.
    Then Paxton came out with the thing he’d been dreading.
    ‘I want you to go to Cairo,’ he said. ‘I want you to find whoever did this to my son. And I want you to kill them.’

Chapter Eight
    ‘You were really unlucky,’ Marla Austin was saying to Kerry. They were in the
Scimitars
VIP stateroom, far away