Erica had brought only her canvas tote bag, packing a minimum of clothing, her makeup, and reading material. She’d left the guidebooks and flashlight in her room in Luxor. So there was little to do by way of “settling” herself, and she walked through the connecting door into the main room of Yvon’s suite.

He had removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves and was just opening a bottle of Dom Perignon when Erica entered. She took the glass of champagne, and for a moment their hands touched. Erica was suddenly conscious of his extraordinary good looks. She felt as if they had been moving toward this night since they first met. He was married, he obviously wasn’t serious, but then, neither was she. She decided to relax and let the evening take its own course. But an excited pulse began between her thighs, and to distract herself she felt impelled to talk. “What makes you so interested in archaeology?”

“It started when I was still a student in Paris. Some of my friends talked me into going to the École de Lange Oriental. I was fascinated and worked like crazy for the first time. I’d never been much of a student. I studied Arabic and Coptic. It was Egypt that interested me. I guess that’s more of an explanation than a reason. Would you like to see the view from the terrace?” He held out his hand to her.

“I’d love to,” said Erica, the pulse quickening. She wanted this. She didn’t care if he was using her, if he was simply compelled to take to bed any attractive woman he met. For the first time in her life she let herself be swept along by desire.

Yvon slid open the door, and Erica walked out under the trellis. She could smell the fragrant roses as she stared down at the whole city of Cairo spread out against the canopy of stars. The citadel with its bold minarets was still illuminated. Directly before them was the island of Gezira, surrounded by the dark Nile.

Erica could sense Yvon’s presence behind her. When she looked up at his angular face, he was studying her. Slowly he reached out and drew the tips of his fingers through her hair, then cupped the back of her head and pulled her to him. He kissed her tentatively, sensitive to her emotions, then more fully, and finally with true passion.

Erica was amazed at the intensity of her response. Yvon was the first man she had been with since knowing Richard, and she was not certain how her body would react. But now she opened her arms to Yvon, matching his excitement with her own.

Their clothes fell naturally as their bodies slowly sank to the Oriental carpet. And in the soft silent light of the Egyptian night they made love with intense abandon, the sprawling throbbing city serving as mute witness to their passion.

Day 6

Erica awoke in her own bed. She dimly remembered Yvon saying that he preferred to sleep alone. Turning over, thinking of the evening, she was amazed to find she felt no guilt.

When she emerged from her room it was about nine. Yvon was sitting on the balcony dressed in a blue-and-white-striped robe, reading the El Ahram newspaper in Arabic. The rays of the morning sun were broken into pieces by the trellis, splattering the area with bits of bright color like an impressionist painting. Breakfast lay waiting under silver serving dishes.

He got up when he saw her and embraced her warmly.

“I’m very glad we came to Cairo,” he said, holding out her chair.

“So am I,” said Erica.

It was a pleasant meal. Yvon had a subtle humor that Erica enjoyed immensely. But after the last piece of toast, she was impatient to continue her investigation.

“Well, I’m off to the museum,” she said, folding her napkin.

“Would you care for some company?” asked Yvon.

Erica looked across at him, remembering Richard’s impatience. She did not want to feel rushed. It was better to go alone.

“To be truthful, the kind of work I want to do is going to be a bit boring. Unless you want to spend the morning in the archives, I prefer to go by myself.” Erica reached across the table and touched Yvon’s arm.

“Fine,” he said. “But I’ll have Raoul give you a ride.”

“It’s not necessary,” she protested.

“Compliments of the French,” said Yvon cheerfully.

Dr. Fakhry led Erica into a small stuffy cubicle off the main room of the library. On a single table against the wall was a microfilm reader.

“Talat will bring the film you desire,” said Dr. Fakhry.

“I appreciate your help very much,” Erica told him.

“What is it you are looking for?” queried Dr. Fakhry. His right hand suddenly shook spasmodically.

“I’m interested in the robbers who broke into Tutankhamen’s tomb in ancient times. I don’t think that aspect of the discovery has been given the attention it deserves.”

“Tomb robbers?” he questioned, then shuffled from the room.

Erica sat down in front of the microfilm reader and drummed her fingers on the table. She hoped that the Egyptian Museum had as much material as possible. Talat appeared and gave Erica a shoe box full of film. “You buy scarab, lady?” he whispered.

Without even answering, Erica began to look through the microfilm canisters, conveniently labeled in English with cards from the Ashmolean Museum, which houses the original documents. She was genuinely surprised at the wealth of the material and made herself comfortable, since she was clearly going to be there for a while.

Flipping on the reader, Erica inserted the first roll of film. Fortunately Carter had written his journal in a compulsively neat script. Erica skimmed to the section describing the stonecutters’ huts. There was no doubt that they had been built directly over the entranceway to Tutankhamen’s tomb. Erica was now positive that the robbers had to have plundered Tutankhamen’s tomb before the reign of Ramses VI.

She continued skimming until she came to the section where Carter listed the reasons he was sure before he discovered Tutankhamen’s tomb that it existed. The piece of evidence that Erica found the most fascinating was a blue faience cup with the cartouche of Tutankhamen, found by Theodore Davis. No one had ever wondered why the little cup was found hidden under a rock on the hillside.

When the first spool was finished, Erica put on the next. She was now reading about the discovery itself. Carter described at length the way the outer and inner doors of the tomb had been closed again in antiquity with a seal of the necropolis; the original Tutankhamen seal could only be found at the base of each door. Carter explained in detail why he was certain the doors had been breached and resealed twice, but offered no explanation why.

Closing her eyes, Erica rested for a few moments. Her imagination took her back to the solemn ceremony when the young pharaoh was interred. Then her mind tried to conjure up the tomb robbers. Had they been confident during their robbery, or had they been terrified at the possibility of angering the guardians of the netherworld? Then she thought about Carter. What was it like when he entered the tomb for the first time? From the notes Erica confirmed that he had been accompanied by his assistant, Callender; Lord Carnarvon; Carnarvon’s daughter; and one of the foremen, named Sarwat Raman.

For the next several hours Erica scarcely moved. She could sense Carter’s feeling of awe and mystery. With painstaking detail he described the location of each object: the alabaster lotiform cup and a nearby oil lamp took several pages. As she studied the material on the cup and the lamp, Erica remembered something she’d read elsewhere. On his lecture tour after the discovery, Carter had mentioned that the curious orientation of these two objects led him to conjecture that they were clues to some greater mystery that he hoped would be unraveled following a complete examination of the tomb. He’d gone on to say that the group of gold rings he had found discarded in cavalier manner suggested that the intruders were surprised in the middle of their brigandage.