Lee Child - MatchUp

“This is not a huge museum, like your Smithsonian,” Dr. Razi said, in crisp English.

Perhaps in his early or midthirties, the man seemed young for his position. He had a thick head of hair and a trimmed mustache and was dressed in a white linen shirt and khaki slacks. Handsome man, by most standards. And to overhear Harper’s remark, the guy must be sharp-eared.

“But we are serious about discovering and excavating sites from the past that have remained undiscovered,” Dr. Razi added, as he seated himself behind his cluttered desk. The rest of them chose straight-backed chairs that were none too clean.

“And that’s what Ms. Winters was working on?” Hauck asked.

“More or less. She was learning the mechanics and analysis of satellite cartography under my tutelage.”

“I understand that it can reveal buried sites that aren’t apparent to the naked eye,” Hauck said.

And Dr. Razi was off and running. Hauck didn’t completely comprehend what the doctor was telling him, but he understood that satellite imaging had enabled archaeologists to see features of the landscape from above, features that had been buried hundreds or thousands of years not visible from the ground. There were specific programs to aid archaeologists in mapping these ancient sites and locating buried cities no one had suspected were there.

“I understand there’s another circle close to Stonehenge that is much larger,” Harper said, completely out of the blue.

“That’s right,” Dr. Razi said, his face lighting up at having discovered a kindred soul.

He showed every sign of launching into another monologue, but Hauck stopped him before he could hit his stride. “Please tell us about Stephanie.”

Razi’s face grew somber. “Of course. That’s why you are here, and I want to help in any way I can. She was an intelligent young woman, and her death is a great loss. To the program. To us all.”

“You’re sure she’s dead?” Harper said.

They all stared at her, but she showed no signs of being self-conscious.

“Sadly, what other conclusion is there?” Razi said. “Stephanie has been gone so long and has had no contact with her family. She was always on the cell phone to them. I had to speak to her about it more than once. Work hours, you know. I can’t waste the museum’s money. History must go on.”

“So she was slacking off?” Hauck said.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Razi seemed uncomfortable. “I don’t want to speak ill of her, you understand. She worked hard. But she’d also come to Egypt to sample its life, its sights and sounds, and I suppose that sometimes her job could be boring in comparison with that.”

“She was your intern,” Harper said quietly.

Razi nodded.

“So you spent a lot of time with Ms. Winters?”

“I suppose I did. She worked in my department.”

“And you say she was hard to supervise?” Harper persisted.

Razi obviously didn’t like where she was leading. “No. Just a bit careless, perhaps.”

“And you made note of that? On her evaluations?” Harper pressed.

Hauck wondered where she was leading.

“No,” Razi said, backpedaling. “I didn’t want to hurt her career in any way.”

“So what did you think she was in Alexandria for? The nightlife, or the research?”

“Both. After all,” Razi said, regaining his composure, “Ms. Winters came from a wealthy Jewish family. She was not used to being told what to do.”

The fact that Razi had made a point of Stephanie’s faith was unsettling.

“That’s so strange,” Nabila said, joining in for the first time, her dark eyebrows drawn together. “Dr. Razi, I understood that Ms. Winters was close to being an expert in satellite cartography.”

He shrugged. “She was good, but she was inclined to be too excitable. History requires patience. There are a lot of false leads. You can’t be rushing off to every site just because something is there. The funds are not there to support it.”

Hauck leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “So what is your theory, Dr. Razi? What do you believe happened to her?”

Razi hesitated. “I don’t know. But I have assumed that Stephanie had gone into some souk or bar or gotten in a car with someone who tried to force themselves on her. And that she fought back and was killed. Sadly, things happen here. Governments come and go, but there is still a lingering resentment against the West.”

“So she was a fighter?” Hauck asked. “In your opinion.”

The Egyptologist almost smiled. “Oh, yes. Stephanie was indeed a fighter for what she believed in. And, my word, that girl could argue the leg off a table.”

They rose to leave, but instead of stepping toward the door, Harper drifted to the glass shelves. Her thin white hand floated toward a partial skull. Before Dr. Razi could protest, one finger touched the rounded dome.

“That is a woman’s skull from Roman times,” Razi said. “I will have to ask you not to touch.”

“Do you want to know what killed her?” Harper asked.

Her voice was eerily matter-of-fact.

“What?” Razi seemed confused, and he wasn’t the only one. Nabila looked taken aback.

The hair was rising on Hauck’s neck.

“She got an infection during childbirth,” Harper said, her eyes still on the brown bit of skull. “She was twenty-one. The baby lived, at least for a while.”

“And now we have to go,” Hauck said briskly. “Harper’s brother is ill, and we have to go check on him.”

THEY WALKED BACK TO THE elevator, Dr. Razi behind them as if he were herding them out of the museum. The three kept silent until they were outside, amid the noise and bustle of Alexandria.

Nabila spoke first. “You frightened him.”

“He shouldn’t keep her head in his office,” Harper said, “if he didn’t want to know the truth behind it. And look.”

Dr. Razi was leaving the building too, in a hurry. He hustled over to a car parked near the entrance, a white VW Passant, flicked the automatic lock, and climbed in. Then he drove away from the museum grounds.

“Not sure how I feel about that guy,” Harper said.

Hauck nodded. “Amen.”

Nabila dropped them off at their hotel, explaining that she had to return to the police station to wrap up a few things before she could leave for the day. Hauck thanked her and told her he’d see her tomorrow. By the time he’d said good-bye, Harper had vanished. Checking on her brother, he assumed. But he was surprised when she stopped him in the lavish lobby, amid the shadow of a pillar.

“Mr. Hauck,” she said. “One of the roommates is waiting in the bar. I think she’s waiting for you. Listen, come talk to me later. I found something.”

And then she was gone.

Hauck moseyed over to the bar to see if it were true.

Tall Tina was trying to look at ease in the upscale lobby bar, but she was not succeeding. The room was designed to look like a posh living room, with plates displayed on shelves, a painting above the fireplace, velvet armchairs, dark wood tables, and the gleam of china and crystal. She looked young and awkward in that setting.

“I didn’t think you were ever going to get back,” she said as Hauck came to her table. “I’ve been here for an hour. Drinks here cost a fortune.”

“It’s a nice place to wait,” he said, not about to apologize for being late to an appointment he hadn’t made.

“Did you go to the museum?”

She pushed her brown hair behind her ears. She was wearing antique, Egyptian earrings, which seemed out of keeping with her outfit. She appeared edgy.

“I just came from there.”

“Talking to Omar?”