The Laughter of Dead Kings Read Online Free PDF Page B

SCA.”
    “Another reason why you must be on the spot. It’s likely that the thieves will contact someone—you, the Supreme Council, or the press.”
    Feisal choked. I leaped up, ready to apply the Heimlich maneuver, but he managed to swallow. “Why would they do that?” he gasped.
    “That depends on their reason for the theft,” John said. “Which is the most interesting part of the entire business. Offhand, four possible motives occur to me. One, the perpetrators were funded by a private collector whose tastes are, shall we say, extremely bizarre. Should that be the case, they and their client won’t communicate with anyone. The second possibility is that they are holding the mummy for ransom. I expect certain parties would be willing to pay a tidy sum for its safe return, and for keeping the whole business quiet. In which case they will contact the SCA directly; there will not be any publicity, but you, my friend, will be on the spot.”
    “What’s the third?” I asked, knowing John was dying to be prompted.
    “Political. Embarrassing the government, nationally and/or internationally.”
    Feisal put the remains of his sandwich down on the table. Helooked sick. John didn’t have to spell it out; if that was the motive, the thieves would want publicity, the more the better.
    “That’s weak,” I said. “It might make Mubarak and company look silly, but it wouldn’t do them any real harm. The U.S. isn’t going to cut off aid on account of a mislaid mummy, and it wouldn’t give any real leverage to the various parties that would like to overthrow the government—of whom, I presume, there are quite a number.”
    “There always are,” Feisal said. “Ranging from radical Islamists who want a theocratic state to liberals who want genuinely democratic elections, freedom of speech, and all those nice things. Vicky’s right. A scandal over a missing antiquity, even one as important as Tutankhamon, isn’t enough to start a revolution.”
    He reached for his sandwich and encountered instead the large head of Caesar. Caesar swallowed and slunk under the table.
    “That dog is getting out of hand,” John said. “You don’t discipline him properly. To return to the subject under discussion—your point is well taken, logically speaking, but would-be revolutionaries aren’t always logical. However, I am inclined to believe that my fourth motive is the most likely.”
    He waited for somebody to ask him what it was. I had already played stooge once. I got up and made Feisal another sandwich. The silence lengthened, broken only by the sound of a large dog under the table licking its lips.
    “Personal enmity,” John said. “Someone is out to get you or your boss.”
    “It can’t be me,” Feisal protested. “I’m not that important. This was a big, expensive operation. I don’t have enemies—at least not rich enemies.”
    “I can think of one—” I bit my tongue. Feisal didn’t need any more negative thoughts.
    “We’re still a long way from listing names,” John said. “It’s late, and I want Feisal on a plane to Cairo tomorrow.”
    “Aren’t you coming with me?” Feisal asked.
    “I can’t do anything from that end.”
    “But—” Feisal began.
    John raised a finger, like a schoolmaster enjoining silence. “This is how it stands. We don’t know what these people are likely to do next. Our only hope at the moment is damage control, to whatever extent that is possible. Your position is that you knew nothing in advance about the visit, you assumed when you learned of it that it was legitimate, and that you have no reason to suspect anything is wrong. You did not inspect the tomb or look in the sarcophagus. Neither did Ali. Notify me at once if you hear anything from anybody. That includes seemingly idle rumors and casual remarks from observers who might have noticed the route that damned van took. It would be nice to know where it went and when it disappeared off the radar, but it might be