Chapter 33 #2
Mrs. Bell noted, “It is the same everywhere. Some spend their lives manipulating others. In this case, I fear that taking someone at their word would not be wise.”
Darcy glanced at Richard, who nodded and said, “As soon as possible, we shall interview the museum curator to confirm what Yusuf told us. I suspect that Dr. Hassan is a charlatan.”
“And Yusuf is an honest man,” Elizabeth agreed.
The modest museum stood wedged between a spice merchant’s shop and a dilapidated warehouse near Alexandria’s harbor.
Its weathered facade bore little resemblance to the grand institutions of Europe.
The cousins checked their surroundings with the wariness that was second nature any time Wickham was around.
Inside, the interior was cramped, hot, and musty.
A young clerk, seated at a battered desk near the entrance, directed them up a narrow staircase to the office of Emil Tariq El-Said, Assistant Curator of Antiquities.
El-Said was perhaps fifty with graying hair and the ink-stained fingers of a scholar.
In his features, Darcy could see a family resemblance to Yusuf.
After introductions, Richard got straight to the point. “Dr. El-Said, what do you know of Dr. Mahmoud Hassan, a man who claims expertise in Egyptian treasures? He approached our group with an offer to guide us to Luxor to search for antiquities.”
The change in El-Said’s countenance was subtle but unmistakable.
“He does have impressive credentials and is exactly what wealthy foreigners seek―someone who can do business in our world and in yours. But in truth, Dr. Hassan is a fraud and a thief. He has connections with government officials who find his willingness to…facilitate certain transactions…quite useful.”
“Do you have proof?” Darcy asked.
“In abundance.” El-Said shook his head before reaching for a file heavy enough to need both hands to lift it onto the desk.
“You are welcome to read any or all of it. You must realize that, ever since the British invasion of 1807 devastated this city, our authorities turn a blind eye to any theft that can provide them with revenue. Dr. Hassan and others tell people precisely what they wish to hear. If you seek proof that Cleopatra’s treasure lies beneath the Sphinx, they will produce ‘ancient manuscripts’ supporting this theory.
These documents appear convincing enough to extract payment.
If you desire entry to a sealed tomb, they will arrange it for a price, regardless of whether such access is legal or wise. ”
“Yet they continue to operate freely?” Richard asked.
“They are useful to certain people in power. Dr. Hassan never touches the artifacts themselves. He simply makes introductions, offers advice, and collects his fees. By the time anyone realizes what has happened, the evidence has disappeared across the Mediterranean. He is not interested in ancient history. No, profit is his sole motive.”
“What of your nephew?” Darcy asked.
“Yusuf? You will find that no amount of hardship has corrupted his principles. He always says that he offers honest work for honest pay. Could he increase his income if he did as Hassan? Certainly. But he will not.”
Darcy leaned forward. “Then we made the right choice in engaging him. But we face another challenge. We need to hire guards―men who can be trusted to protect not just our persons but also any discoveries we might make. Can you recommend anyone?”
El-Said became troubled. “That is…complicated. I can provide names, certainly. Men I have known for my lifetime, men whose families I know, men who have guarded this very museum with honor.”
“But…?” Darcy prompted.
“I must be brutally honest. The economic situation in Egypt is dire. Even men of good character―men I would trust with my life under normal circumstances―are struggling to feed their children. If someone were to offer one of these men twice what you are paying, I cannot absolutely guarantee they would refuse.”
The words hung in the air like a death sentence.
“Gentlemen, this is not a matter of character or honor. This is a matter of survival. When a man must choose between abstract loyalty to a foreign employer and his daughter’s life, what choice does he truly have?”
Darcy respected El-Said’s truthfulness. “If Dr. Hassan suspects we are close to something valuable, what might he do?”
“He will attempt to insinuate himself into your expedition, offer his ‘expertise,’ and learn everything you know. Once he has the information he needs, he will try to beat you to the discovery, sell what he knows to your competitors, or both. Very little happens in the antiquities world without Hassan eventually hearing of it. He has a network of informants throughout Egypt.”
“Then we must move faster than his information can travel,” Richard observed.
El-Said shook his head slowly. “Be very careful. Some would kill for valuable discoveries. Not mere common thieves, but rival European powers who see Egypt’s treasures as bargaining chips in their diplomatic games…
not to mention private collectors who will pay fortunes for artifacts without asking questions about provenance. ”
“We understand the risks,” Richard assured him.
“Do you?” El-Said’s voice was soft but penetrating.
“Egypt is beautiful and ancient. It is also highly dangerous for those who do not understand its complexities.” He moved to open the door.
“Trust carefully. Pay generously. Never assume that everyone who smiles at you wishes you well. And protect my nephew. He is too honest for his own safety sometimes.”
Before Darcy and Richard departed, he added, “Make everyone’s victory depend on yours, and you will find more allies than enemies.”
Outside the museum, the morning sun reflected harshly off Alexandria’s harbor waters.
“Well, that was illuminating.” Richard brushed dust from his sleeve. “Bennet will not take this well.”
Darcy could only agree. He gestured toward the activity in port. “Look.”
Richard grinned. “Ah, the arrival of a British warship seems to be at the perfect time. Trusted compatriots instead of suspicious characters.” From the corner of his eye, he also spotted Wickham and his two henchmen. “We are not alone.”
Richard’s hand gripped the knife hidden underneath his coat. “Upon my word, do you see who is approaching them?”
“Hassan!” Darcy grabbed his cousin’s arm. “Come, we need to talk to Yusuf!”