The Trespass (31 page)

Dracup drank deeply, his fingers drumming a palsied tattoo on the flask.

Carey watched him with concern. “It’s okay. You’re all right now. You did well.” He steadied Dracup’s hands. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Dracup wobbled to his feet and, allowing the Kiwi to support him, stumbled down a slope of scree and loose rock towards Carey’s jeep. Dracup stole a backward glance before collapsing into the passenger seat, half expecting to see the lion emerging from the pit. Carey revved the engine and dust obscured his view. Dracup took a deep breath, murmured a prayer of thanks and passed out.

In his hotel room Dracup poured himself and Carey a beer. He’d had a few hours sleep and felt calmer. His ribcage was painful but intact; his greatest discomfort was a throbbing headache and sunburn, the worst affected area being his face and shoulders which were raw and blistered. A small thing to endure, he reflected, considering how things might have ended.

It was late afternoon. A crowd of new arrivals had stormed the hotel and woken him from his listless dozing. He’d heard them – a bunch of American kids, clumping around as they vied for tenancy of the best available rooms. Now they’d dumped their gear and gone for a look around the place was quieter. Dracup looked over at Carey, relaxed and sitting astride a chair with his brown forearms resting lightly on the slatted backrest. “So. How did you find me?”

Carey studied his beer and wiped a finger round the rim to settle the foam. “Well, to start off I had a bit of trouble with the jalopy. Seems like the tank did take a little knock during the Battle of Britain yesterday.” Carey took a swig of beer and shrugged. “I had to patch her up as best I could. By the time I’d got it sorted it was too late to get going. So, I decided to look you up. I figured you’d probably be heading back to the hotel by that stage. But there was no sign.”

Dracup nodded and eased himself into a chair.

“So,” Carey continued, “I asked around. One of the kids came with me as far as the path you were seen headed towards. After I parked up he was off, so I had to improvise a bit. Anyhow, I walked on a bit, then I got lucky. I found this.” The New Zealander reached into his pack and produced Dracup’s battered hat.

“Ah.”

“Jammed in a narrow cleft in the hillside. I thought – now what does he want to go poking around in there for? You couldn’t squeeze a cat through the space. But I had a go anyway, seeing as how you’d obviously done it – I’ve got
some
national pride, y’know. Had a gander about, gave you a shout, then clammed up quick when I saw the opening in the rocks.”

“You were
there?
In the church?”

“Yep. Quite a place, by my reckoning.”

“You saw what happened?”

“Pretty much.” Carey nodded and cracked his beer can, sending it into the waste bin with a deft flick. “I got myself inside just as the flamin’ door rumbled shut – nearly took my hand off. Then I saw you and the boy – and the others, so I kept myself hidden at the back to see what was going down.”

Dracup listened with fascination. He wiped sweat away from his forehead and flinched at the contact with his sunburnt skin. “Go on.”

“Anyways, when it all got a bit heavy I tuckered down pretty low. I figured there wasn’t much I could do while you were still inside. I waited till they moved you out through the tunnel and sidled up to the altar. I figured I could do you a favour with the old metalwork.”

Dracup leaned forward, heart racing. It was too good to be true... but maybe...

Carey was shaking his head. “No, sorry mate. I know what you’re thinking. This is where it gets a bit hazy for me. I’d just reached the step by the altar when something whacked me on the bonce and I was on the deck.”

“And then –?”

“Not a lot. When I woke up I could see daylight through the tunnel, so I took a stroll along there until I heard you shouting.”

“Shouting?” Dracup frowned.

“Yeah. At the lion.”

Dracup shook his head. “I don’t remember –”

“Don’t worry about it – sunstroke does things to you. Anyhow, you seemed to have Simba all sorted out. Guess he thought you were just too weird to eat, right?”

Dracup tried to laugh through the pain of his headache and failed. Then he remembered the sceptre. “Wait – in the church.
Omega
–”

“No chance.” Carey pursed his lips and scratched his chin through several days’ growth of reddish stubble. “Whoever clocked me one made off with the goods.”

Despair grabbed at Dracup’s guts. He had rescued the diary but without the sceptre – he
had
to find it. “Who was it? Did you get a look?”

“Nope. Only thing I can tell you is it wasn’t one of them priests.”

“How can you be sure?”

“He was wearing trousers. With turn-ups. I got a look just before the lights went out.”

A thought occurred to Dracup. “The priests. That’s why they didn’t come back to check on me. They were –”

“Distracted. Yeah.” Carey smiled. “There was a bit of a rumpus going on when we drove through the town earlier. I’ll bet that’s what it was about.”

“But if it wasn’t the priests who clobbered you, then who the – ?”

“Good question.” Carey arched his eyebrows. “But there were two people in that light aircraft. It was the passenger who gave us a lead hosing.”

“Mukannishum.” Dracup shuddered as he remembered the zealot’s demise.

“Sounds like it. But that leaves the pilot.” Carey rattled his knuckles on the chair.

“But the pilot was probably a hired flier.” Dracup frowned.

Carey shrugged. “Maybe he was. Maybe not.” He finished the dregs of his beer and looked wistfully at the empty glass. “Question is, what now?”

Dracup poured himself a fresh drink. “That’s a no-brainer. I go back to the church.”

Carey spun round. “Are you totally crazy?” He looked at Dracup in amazement. “You’ve just avoided ending your days as a lion’s dinner and you want to go back? You know what you
should
do? You should get the police in from Addis.”

Dracup studied his fingernails. They were chipped and ragged. “No police.” He shook his head emphatically. “I have no choice, Dan. I need to find the sceptre.”

“Ah, but do you?” Carey smiled. He went to the door, opened it a fraction and whistled. Enjoying Dracup’s bemusement he stood to one side and watched his reaction. Footsteps rattled on the threshold and Bek walked into the room.

“Boss, I didn’t know. I really didn’t. I’m very sorry. Bek will make it all right.” The boy was obviously frightened. He was clutching a tattered canvas bag to his chest as if his life depended on protecting it.

Dracup felt a mixture of emotions. Overriding the more negative of these was a strong sympathy for Bek’s situation. “Let me guess. The long man got to you before I did. Made you an offer you couldn’t turn down?”

Bek’s eyes were downcast. “I never thought anything bad would happen, boss. No way.”

“You don’t know the half of it, lad,” Dracup said. He pondered in silence for a few moments, then extended his hand. “Tell you what. Let’s start again.”

Bek grinned as if an enormous weight had been lifted from his thin shoulders. He flashed Dracup a wide smile.

Carey watched approvingly. “And I think you have something to show Professor Dracup, young man. Am I right?”

Bek nodded eagerly. His hand went into the bag like a cobra striking at its prey. When the hand came out it was holding Dracup’s camera.

Dracup’s mouth dropped open. “I’ll be damned.”

“Wait till you see some of the holiday snaps,” Carey advised.

A small beam of hope began to percolate in Dracup’s head. Bek handed him the camera with a barely concealed look of pride. Dracup took it and flicked the selector switch to ‘display’. The images appeared obediently, lined up in their digital grid. Each shot was crystal clear, the cuneiform clearly visible. Dracup’s fingers were trembling as he hit the zoom button. He looked at Bek as if the boy had just presented him with a cheque for a million pounds. Carey’s face was creased into a lopsided perma-grin.

“Are they okay, boss? I got all the writing for you, like you wanted.”

“How –?” Dracup couldn’t find the words.

“They weren’t looking at me, boss – when the long man got the real deal out of the box.”

“You stole my camera,” Dracup said at last. He went up to Bek and embraced him, ruffling the wiry hair vigorously. “You marvellous child.” He laughed in sheer amazement. “You stole my wretched camera!”

Red Earth

The cool air hit Dracup’s cheeks like a balm. The sky was a horizon-hugging grey, and as he descended the airliner steps to board the courtesy bus it began to rain. He hailed a taxi and was soon crawling through the evening rush hour exodus from London towards Junction 10 of the M4. He was debating whether to go straight to Charles’ house or phone ahead when the minicab driver turned around and said, “Sorry to bother you, sir, but I thought you’d like to know we’re being followed.”

“Are you sure? This
is
a motorway.” Dracup turned and peered through the back window.

“Quite sure, sir. He pulled out just as we left the airport. Nearly shunted another car, he was so keen to get on our tail.”

Dracup wasn’t surprised. He’d been expecting trouble. Another no-brainer. One of three possibilities: Moran, Potzner, or Kadesh. Of these, Dracup favoured Moran. Potzner would have been more direct, and representatives of the Korumak more subtle.

“Okay. Just keep going.” Dracup had no intention of leading Moran to Charles, although a nagging intuition told him that the DCI would probably have paid his friend a visit already. The campus was a small place and his circle of friends even smaller. They would have to lose the tail.

The traffic began to thin and soon they were speeding along the A329M towards Reading town centre. “He’s still with us, sir.”

Dracup sat back and closed his eyes. “Well, then. Time to earn your money.”

“Right you are, sir,” the driver said, and floored the accelerator.

A few minutes later Dracup asked: “Any sign?”

“No sir. I’ve lost him for now.”

They were close to Dracup’s road. He didn’t want to waste any time at his flat, but a change of clothes was a necessity. “Okay – next left and stop just under the first street lamp.”

“Right you are, sir.”

Dracup fumbled for his house keys. “Just up here on the –” Dracup’s words dried up. His front door was a heavy replacement blank, the stained glass a missing image on his retina. The building was in total darkness. As they drew up he saw the signs.
Dangerous structure. Keep out.

“Don’t stop,” Dracup told the driver. “You know the University?”

“Course I do,” the driver chirped brightly.

Dracup sighed. “Let’s go.” He grabbed the seat belt as the car accelerated. “Take it steady.” He twisted and looked out of the back window. A green BMW was doing its best to replicate their Le Mans-style departure. Dracup rapped on the seat in front of him. “Our friend is back.”