The Chalice of Eternity: A Tom Wagner Adventure by Roberts M.C. & Maclay R.F

Author:Roberts, M.C. & Maclay, R.F.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-12-19T00:00:00+00:00

32

FARID SHAHAM’S HOUSE, CAIRO, EGYPT

As they followed the palm-lined gravel path through the front garden and into the central courtyard, Hellen took Tom by the arm and pulled him back a little. They hadn’t had a moment alone since leaving Syria—the Welshman and his band of mercenaries hadn’t taken their eyes off them.

When Brice stepped into the courtyard, where a small fountain bubbled in the center, Farid Shaham was waiting to greet him, and Brice returned his welcome effusively.

Farid was the son of Cloutard’s former right-hand man, and ever since the Frenchman had saved his young daughter’s life, Farid had been in his debt. But he’d disregarded Cloutard’s warning and had been working for the Welshman for some time. It was a decision he regretted every single day.

“Thank you for welcoming us to your humble home,” said Brice, embracing Farid. The reserve—maybe even fear—in Farid’s eyes was easy to see.

“What were you thinking?” Hellen hissed in Tom’s ear. “How could you possibly make a deal with that man?” They were standing a short distance away, beside one of the decorative busts set up around the courtyard.

“I saw no other way to find you,” Tom whispered.

“He damn near killed us and your grandfather. Have you forgotten that?”

Tom shook his head.

“Please don’t get me wrong, Tom. I’m incredibly grateful that you came and rescued me. I just hope the price wasn’t too high.”

“We’ll get out of this, I promise. I’ll come up with something.”

“Come in,” said Farid, inviting them into his office, which opened directly onto the courtyard. “Armeen has already made tea.” He ushered Brice, Tom, and Hellen inside. Brice’s bodyguards, at a barely perceptible nod from their boss, stayed outside in the courtyard. Farid closed the door behind them and indicated a round table surrounded by cushions in one corner of the room. Tapestries decorated the walls of the high-ceilinged room.

Farid nodded a greeting to Tom and Hellen as they took their places around the table. Armeen, Farid’s wife, poured the tea, then retreated to an adjoining room.

“What have you discovered, my friend?” the Welshman asked.

“Three days ago, the director of the Grand Egyptian Museum was found shot to death in a dark alley. No one knows what happened or how he got there. The investigations are ongoing, but for now they are talking about no more than a straightforward robbery.”

“Maybe it was connected to his new discovery?” Hellen said.

“What discovery?” said Brice, pricking up his ears.

“I sent you an Instagram post of his when we were in Greece, remember?” she said, turning to Tom, who nodded. “Let me have your phone. Mine’s long gone.” She began searching feverishly for the post but found nothing. “I don’t understand. It was a short video, taken out in the desert somewhere, and he was saying something about Hermes Trismegistus. But the video’s vanished.”

“Hermes Trismegistus. He’s just an old horror story from ancient Egypt,” Brice said.

“Maybe. But we have also found a clue that points in his direction,” François Cloutard’s voice suddenly announced as he pushed open the large door that opened into the office from the house.

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