Oasis of Night by J.S. Cook

Author:J.S. Cook [Cook, J.S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2015-06-22T16:00:00+00:00

I DIDN’T tell Tareenah Halim, but I had no intention of looking for somebody who might have a reason to sell Sam out to the Nazis. My experience with thugs like that told me I only needed to make it known I was looking for him, and his captors would come crawling out of the desert like dung beetles.

I didn’t bother going up to my hotel room, either. As soon as Mrs. Halim’s yellow Fiat turned the corner of Shari’ esh-Sheikh Rihan, I hailed a cab and directed him to the National Bank of Egypt branch on the Sharia El Madabegh. I had no real way of knowing which branch the key had come from, but this particular branch was the one featured on the tourist map I had bought to replace my guidebook. I figured I’d start there and work my way backward if necessary. Hopefully, they wouldn’t raise too much of a stink when I asked to unlock the box; some banks were okay with it as long as you had the right key, but some got suspicious if just anybody waltzed in asking for admission to the vault.

The cabbie let me out practically on the doorstep, and I made sure to give him a decent tip. I’ve lived in cities all my life, and one thing I’ve learned, a savvy taxi driver is one of the best friends you can have. “You want I should wait for you, effendi?” He was young, not more than twenty years old, neatly dressed in a white, button-down shirt and khaki trousers. “I do not mind waiting.”

“Yeah, why don’t you? I’d appreciate it.” I handed over a pound note and watched his eyes light up.

“The Americani is most generous! I will wait here.”

“Thanks, pal.” I tapped the passenger door. “This won’t take too long.” If he knew I was whistling in the dark, he didn’t say anything.

I went in through the big double doors and joined the line forming to one side of the tellers’ counter. The bank had opened for the day’s business less than an hour ago, but already there were quite a few people ahead of me. I noticed a woman in full native garb with two little boys, and an elderly man wearing a hearing aid. There were also two men in casual trousers and long-sleeved shirts who seemed to be together; I couldn’t be sure, since they were standing with their backs to me. One was taller than the other and slender in that rawboned way that suggests a familiarity with physical exercise; he was standing close behind the shorter man and seemed to be holding his companion’s elbow from behind. The man in front was wearing clothes that weren’t exactly pristine, and this seemed strange to me considering how many admonitions to personal cleanliness there are in the Koran. Most Egyptians, even the poorest of the poor, make an effort; the soap sellers and perfumers do a brisk business in this part of the world.

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