Objects Of His Obsession by Jae T. Jaggart

Author:Jae T. Jaggart [Jaggart, Jae T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-03-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

August 1898, Cairo, Egypt

Benedict slumped back in his chair, wiping a hand over his face.

The stinking heat meant that no work would be conducted at the site for months. It wouldn’t cool to tolerable conditions, the dig season begin till November and carry through for months well into the following year. And God knew, there was enough to be done before then. Wiping a palm down his khaki trousers, he then spread the papers on the massive wooden desk before him.

Paperwork.

Such had been Hamer’s punishment for his quiet – at least quiet on Benedict’s side – discussion with him when he’d returned to Cairo.

His time in England cut short.

The breeze, warm as it may have been, was welcome as it came through the broad spans left by the rows of French doors opened onto the deep, shaded balcony.

He lifted his head, taking in a deep breath.

Every scent that came with that warm breeze good to him, those both good and those redolent of the less than savory. A clear reminder of just where he was, and why.

His thoughts clearer, he reached for the cooling mug of black tea by his hand and scowled at the notations Paul had made about one of the retrieved pieces yesterday.

Not quite right. Goddammit.

He rubbed with some irritation at his forehead.

This season was to be his last with Hamer, after near five years. And it would be Paul Blackwell’s second. Blackwell, whom he told Hamer would be well able to replace him once he struck out on his own.

Not that he’d voiced it in quite that manner to Hamer.

His thoughts went to the man heading the group that were backing his escape. His strike out, onto his own.

They went to the first and last London meeting he’d had with Lucius Kingsley, Kingsley, amateur Egyptologist, mining and railroad magnate, and wild eccentric. It had been a good meeting. They’d previously been introduced in Cairo late the year before when Kingsley had been a visitor to the tomb, Hamer his host.

Hamer hadn’t much liked Kingsley, dismissing his interest in the find as only as deep as the cheap thrill that many gained from it. Thought Kingsley interested in the flashier aspects. Not the ancient life revealed beneath the glittering surface. Hamer’s tour conducted only as a piece of diplomacy, for Kingsley was well connected.

But Benedict had met the man as well, and that had not been his judgment.

But then Hamer could be prickly, and justifiably egotistical and short with others.

He was not a likable man, but then he didn’t have to be.

However, Kingsley had taken an interest in Hamer’s second-in-command.

And eventually, after several informal tours of the Valley of the Kings, during a private dinner at his club Benedict had finally decided he could trust the man. Trust him enough to confide his belief that he knew where the next great tomb might be found. He didn’t have the money to finance the dig, which could take years before the exact spot was pinpointed. He desperately needed help.

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