Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
The engine of the motorcar thrummed across the bridge, the pale dawn taking shape.
The Nile was calm, flowing with a steadiness that Ginger found comforting.
Even at this time of the morning the shapes of a few of the traditional Egyptian wooden boats—feluccas—with their triangular white canvas sails were silhouetted against the sky.
Some were likely getting an early start on the day.
Others had occupants who’d paid to watch the sunrise on the river.
Ginger hugged her arms, thankful for the extra warmth the burqa provided in the cool dark. She and Noah hadn’t had time to discuss things further, but a low simmer of fury burned inside her. He’d given himself entirely to the British cause, and now everything he’d worked for had been snatched away.
Snatched away, in part, because he’d dared to love her.
The journey to Rumayla Square to find Alastair’s waiting motorcar had taken hours, despite its relative proximity to Alastair’s house. Crossing rooftops had been terrifying, especially knowing that she had to do so in silence or risk being caught.
She’d never admired Noah’s skills more.
Ginger directed Noah to Sarah’s house. As they crept closer, Noah turned off the headlights, not wanting to announce their arrival.
Set off from the main road, the house was still, shrouded in dark.
That wouldn’t have been unusual, if it weren’t for the prone body of an Egyptian man in the courtyard.
Noah brought the car to a stop, and Ginger hurried from her seat to check on the man. His limbs were stiff, jaw and eyes open, lifeless.
A bullet hole in his garment revealed his cause of death.
We’re too late.
Noah crouched beside her. “Whoever did this might still be here,” he whispered, pulling her upright by the elbow.
“He’s been dead for at least a couple hours. Probably longer.” She stood straighter. She’d been around enough dead bodies to know how long it took for a body to stiffen.
Noah led the way toward the house, where they found the front door broken. Bullet casings littered the ground, along with a trail of dusty footprints.
Whoever had come for Sarah most likely hadn’t come alone. Had Osborne done this? Or, worse still, Stephen?
She gritted her teeth as they found an Egyptian woman dead near a staircase. Ginger tightened her grip on her gun, wanting to restore the fallen woman’s dignity. The dead servants were innocent. They’d done nothing wrong.
Where was Sarah? Ginger should never have involved her, but how could she have known? Worry crested in her mind as they searched the house. Sarah was nowhere to be found. Ginger hoped she’d fled.
Or had she been captured?
They started down the stairs and Noah paused. His brows furrowed. He leaned toward her and whispered almost inaudibly, “Go down a few steps.”
The heels of her boots thudded softly against the wooden steps. Then she stopped, turning to face Noah.
Noah signaled that she should continue, then he moved to the top of the staircase, watching her closely.
She did as he asked.
Noah went to the middle of the staircase.
Tapping the risers with the backs of his knuckles, he listened closely.
He paused, then ran his fingers over the corners of each step.
Finding what he appeared to be looking for, he lifted the flat edge of one stair to reveal a hidden space under the stairs.
There, blinking in the dark, was Sarah. She held a gun out toward Noah, hands steady. “Don’t you dare think of touching me, you son of a bitch.”
Oh, no—she thought Noah was after her. Ginger rushed to Noah’s side. “No! Sarah, wait!”
Sarah looked from Noah to Ginger and lowered the gun.
“What in the hell is going on?” She pushed her way out of the dusty crawl space. Her face was wan, and she wore a thin satin dressing gown. “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you.”
“Sarah, this is my husband, Noah Benson.”
Sarah picked a cobweb from her hair. “Ah. I’m sorry to have greeted you this way. I didn’t know.”
She must have been terrified.
“How long have you been in there?” Ginger asked.
Sarah rolled her shoulders and winced. “A few hours. Paul built the damned thing. Comes in handy, but there’s no way to let yourself out. Not the smartest design. I was counting on one of my …” She spotted the body of the woman at the bottom of the stairs. “Oh …”
She bolted past Noah and Ginger, taking the stairs two at a time. “Nenet!” She reached her, then tried lifting the woman into her arms. “No, Nenet!”
Stumbling away, Sarah set her back against the wall and slid down toward the floor. She hugged her knees against her chest, her face stricken with grief and tears. “She died protecting me.”
Ginger exchanged a look with Noah, then left his side to go to Sarah’s. Crouching beside her, Ginger set a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Sarah, I’m so sorry.”
She wiped her cheeks. “I heard shots but didn’t know what had happened. I didn’t know it was her.”
Ginger didn’t have the heart to tell her about the others right then. To Ginger, they had been innocent bystanders, which was bad enough. To Sarah, they were no doubt like family.
Sarah clenched her jaw, her lower lip trembling despite the effort. Tears slid onto her cheeks, and she wiped them away with the back of her hands. “Why did you come back?”
“A lot has happened since we parted.” Ginger stood, feeling clumsily inadequate to address Sarah’s broken heart. After all, she’d brought this on Sarah, even if unintentionally. “The man I took you to meet with yesterday—”
Sarah crossed her arms. “He came here tonight. Nenet barely had time to hide me away.” She breathed shakily.
Then it had been Osborne.
Noah put his gun in the holster and offered her an arm, which she accepted. “Are you all right?”
Sarah looked paler now and sat wearily on a nearby chaise. “I’m beginning to understand that Paul was mixed up in something more dangerous than I realized. Would anyone care to explain to me what’s going on?”
Ginger felt horrible for having dragged Sarah into this. The archeologist had been relatively safe while her connection to Freddy Mortimer went undiscovered.
Sitting beside Sarah, she fidgeted with her skirt.
“My father lost his fortune. I think he must have spent most of it on that concession. He became indebted to a family friend, a man as soulless as they come. His name is Stephen Fisher. He had sympathies to the Germans and used my father’s debts against him to pull him into his criminal activities.
My brother too, at the end. I discovered it by chance last spring. ”
Sarah met Ginger’s gaze. Her eyes didn’t contain fear, just questions. “And the spy—Stephen Fisher—he’s on the loose?”
“Yes.” Noah crossed the darkened space to the window.
He peeked outside the curtain. “Fisher got away when we tried to arrest him in the spring and recently resurfaced and allowed himself to be captured. I believed the whole time he had some plan, but I wasn’t certain about the objectives.
One was to pin all his crimes on my shoulders. The other was to find you.”
Sarah sat straighter. “And Osborne?”
“Osborne appears to be working for him.” Ginger gave Sarah a sheepish look. “I didn’t know—”
“I’m not angry with you,” Sarah said. “But why me? It makes no sense.”
Noah straightened. “By any chance, Mrs. Hanover, do you have any experience in cryptography?”
Sarah rubbed the back of her neck. “Some. Why?”
“Is it possible that your husband would have written to you in a code that would have been difficult for anyone but you to decrypt?”
“I …” She pursed her lips. “The short answer is yes. I’ve always written my excavation notes in code, one that Paul knew but would be gibberish to most people. Are you telling me that Paul left me a note?”
As the morning moved steadily toward sunrise, the space they were in became more visible. A large hall with a squared staircase. Bookcases lined most of the walls beside them. No wonder Sarah was so bright—she surrounded herself with books.
“That’s Noah’s theory.” Ginger shifted in her seat. “They captured our friend, a man named Jack Darby, who happens to be a cryptologist. We think they hoped he would be able to decrypt the message Paul may have left you. We need to rescue him and then find the concession paperwork, if we can.”
“Jack Darby?” Sarah arched a brow. “I might have known he was involved in this mess.”
She knows him? “You’re acquainted?”
“The archeological circle in Cairo is a tight-knit community. And fellow Americans have a way of standing out. Yes, I know him. I haven’t seen him for a couple years.
” Sarah lifted her chin toward Noah, with a quick intake of breath.
“No wonder you look familiar to me, Mr. Benson. You’re his friend, right?
I think we’ve met before. Years ago on a dig in Aswan.
I still went by Sarah Anderson back then. ”
The revelation wasn’t shocking, but Ginger looked at Noah in surprise.
He gave a slow nod. “That was a long time ago, but, yes, I think I recall.”
That Sarah had met Jack and Noah before gave her an air of trustworthiness Ginger hadn’t expected. “If the community is so tight-knit, how is it that Paul assumed two identities so successfully? Wouldn’t someone have recognized him?”
Sarah shook her head. “I think that was part of the fun of it for Paul. He was quite good at his disguise. When he was Freddy, he was an English fop, ran in a circle of high society. Your father may have been the only one who ever saw through it. I’m assuming he told Olivia Hendricks eventually.
Even I didn’t discover it for a few years, but that’s also because he carefully avoided me as Freddy. ”
Sarah stood, a more determined look to her face. “I suppose it may be helpful for me to get some of my books about Malta, just in case that’s where Paul left the concession.” She paused and gave Noah a once-over. “You’re not actually a criminal, right? You’re being framed?”