October 5 – 7. Egypt. Cairo.

In the morning Holmes flew to Cairo. Very attentive and courteous firm’s official Mahmud met him in the airport and immediately drove him to hotel Sheraton. Holmes got a number with a view on Nile at the ninth floor of the tower like house with an exotic name “Nefertiti”. The midday Sun warmed the air to +33ºC (+91.4ºF) but there wasn’t a feeling of stupefying heat at a balcony. High pressure and dry air provided good state of health. Underneath one could see an unstoppable car flow of the 16 millions strong megapolis.

The conference was held in one of numerous halls of the hotel. There was nothing unusual – simple modern event with dull reports, graphs illustrating firms’ tendencies to the bankruptcy, assurance charges, income decrease etc. Having chosen several booklets, which could probably be interesting for the firm’s heads, Holmes was going to leave for a café when Mahmud who took care of him leaded to him a tall full-bodied man of Arabian appearance. He was dressed in a light suit and a snow-white shirt with a tie.

Mr. Holmes, let me introduce you Mr. Aleph Salem, an owner of the largest furniture fabric in Cairo and just extraordinary interesting man.

Holmes shook dried-up but strong hand of Salem.

I was going to meet with you, Mr. Holmes, some day soon in London, where I should have gone for business. But there is one my good friend among the organisers of the meeting. He had seen a name Holmes in the participants list and graciously informed me of your visit to Cairo. So I decided to take occasion. Mr. Holmes, excuse me, I want to talk about not so usual problem, which is outside the conference matter.

Salem was a little bit anxious and because of that he spoke the perfect British English.

Mr. Salem. You seem to have finished Cambridge?

You’re quite right, Mr. Holmes. I’ve finished the department of law and for some time I studied the modern philosophy. I would like to invite you for a dinner tomorrow. If you don’t object I promise to serve a fine Indian cuisine.

Why Indian if we’re in Egypt?

Just because my wife is from India.

Holmes decided to stake one's all. An English word “picnic” has many meanings. So even if he had been wrong the prepared phrase would only have been a little contrast to Salem’s impeccable English.

You want to show me a “picnic”, don’t you?

The amazed Salem’s face showed that he hit the nail on the head.

Have you already been acquainted with the “picnics”? – He asked with a perplexity. – Has somebody let you know it in advance? But I’ve told of them to nobody. I have so many questions and, – he paused for a little choosing the words, – the most unexpected versions. But I wasn’t sure that you know the “picnics”, I mean the Russian “picnics”.

Me too, I wasn’t sure that you know these Russian “picnics”. For two weeks I have been meeting them under the most mystical circumstances in England, in Switzerland and in Spain. That’s why I thought that the very “picnics” have been waiting for me in Egypt as well. I’m ready to discuss them during the tomorrow’s dinner.

Holmes had been in Cairo two years before on the same firm’s business. A little has changed during that time. Maybe more old cars, as if from an auto junkyard, had appeared. Cairo was the city of the fabulous contrasts of poverty and richness where nearly two million people live on the ancient burial place called “the city of the dead”. With all of exotics: the pyramids, Sphinx, old-times fashioned settlements on banks of Nile, young boys and girls in white tunics and black wigs, – he had got the acquaintance during his first visit to Egypt. That time he was just walking along the embankment of the river Nile, which doesn’t differ from any European city’s embankment but in that it is less kempt. But nonetheless though of the commonness of the city’s landscape with a touch of Arabian exotics Holmes felt the same strange feelings, which he had drown his attention to two years before. That time he had considered them to appear because of the abundance of new Egyptian exotic impressions. But why did it happen that day in the business atmosphere far from any mystics? Was it the feeling of the matrix of the past secretly connected with the present? Suddenly he remembered discoverers of pyramids and their strange fate. Then his thoughts returned to the Madrid talks where Verov and Riego discussed the ruling activity of twenty-two hierophants. It would be useful to nibble at this subject at the dinner.

In the morning Holmes went to the conference for a short time, made the necessary notes for company leaders and returned to his room. It was hot and stuffy. He turned the conditioner on phoned to order some food and opened the “picnics”. Each time he watching the Russian “puzzle’s” pictures he saw an expression of some new sides of the reality, which sometimes exceeded all the boldest fantasies. A waiter brought the cold “pharaoh’s drink”[61] and the ice cream. Slowly sipping slightly tart drink with a delicate flavour of ripe cherry, Holmes thought about the circumstances that seemed to happen on their own but in the way as if the story he needed told itself.

He was ready to go down the hall, where Mahmud was to wait him, when suddenly phone called.

Good evening, Mr. Holmes, – the familiar voice of the deputy director Charles Harvey, – how do you do? What about the weather and pharaohs?

All is nice, thank you, Mr. Harvey. The weather is fine, in the street it is thirty above zero but in the room it’s eighteen. I didn’t visit pharaohs this time but took to the cold “pharaoh’s drink”. It allays thirst well. The conference has finished and I’m going to London on Monday.

I beg your pardon, buddy Holmes, but how do you like going a little bit southerner than Cairo?

I wonder, Harvey, if you suggested me to fly to Cape Town?

No, your guess is beside the mark, Holmes. We suggest you to visit Bombay. There are some troubles in our Indian affiliate and the Board decided that you’re the best to solve these questions. You’ve done well in Zurich and Madrid. We haven’t got but the positive reports.

Harvey, it seems that your geography is rather shy. I’ve got an impression that the Board hankers after the colonial past. If it is so, they had chosen bad candidature for their imperial ambitions realization. It’s the third week I wander and I have a plenty of things to be done in London.

It’s not the problem, Mr. Holmes. According to the covenant we cannot insist on trip to Bombay. But if your interests in India chime with “Ernst & Young’s”, we will appreciate it. Good bye, buddy Holmes. Call me if you change your opinion.

But today is Saturday, Harvey, and I have an interesting evening, – Holmes answered slightly out of place.

Holmes, you know that I don’t to keep the Sabbath. We are to decide on Monday, so call me. Have a nice evening.

Harvey hanged up. Holmes thought upon the firm’s suggestion for some time, but having glanced at the watch and realized that he was late quickly went to an elevator. Mahmud was reading a newspaper.

Good evening, Mr. Holmes, – he rose to meet him. Then having seen the guest’s worried face he asked, – Any problems?

No, Mahmud, all is right. Aren’t we late?

At yours, in England, the punctuality is a kingly virtue. But here on the East if one invited you to six p.m. he waits you to seven.

They had been slowly dodging the confused traffic consisted of cars from all over the world until they left the Old City and entered the fashionable buried in verdure district on the bank of Nile. Several times Holmes noticed that Mahmud drove through a red light.

Mahmud, why have you driven against the red light?

It’s permitted, – he answered with coolness.

And through the green? – Holmes asked with worry.