Free Four Ways to Pharaoh Khufu by Alexander Marmer Page B

hospital?” asked the Chief.
    “Yes, we are stuck in traffic.”
    “How predictable,” the Chief chuckled. “I will make all the necessary arrangements. The cause of his death will be unsuspicious.” The Chief’s confident tone eased Asim’s mind, after all, his Great Chief was a man of his word.
    Right as Asim was about to end the call, the chief hurriedly asked, “What was the date on the DHL receipt?”
    Glancing down at the receipt, Asim answered, “September 12 th .”
    “Very well, Asim, my fierce warrior,” the chief seemed satisfied. “You’ve done well. Just make sure you place the postal receipt inside the German’s wallet.”
    Asim was surprised to hear that request, but knew he would strictly follow it. Asim flipped his cell phone closed and tucked it back into his cloak. I’m still at the mercy of the Chief! He grabbed Schulze’s wallet and put the receipt inside. After stuffing the wallet inside Schulze’s vest pocket, Asim began the task of reinserting the tubes into the German’s lifeless body.
    The traffic finally gave way with a roar. The ambulance rushed along the streets before slamming to a halt in front of the emergency room entrance of the Anglo-American Hospital Zohoreya . As they opened the back door, Asim gave a silent nod to both paramedics, exited the ambulance and slipped away unnoticed. The gurney supporting Schulze’s body was lifted out and as the triage team ran out to greet them, the paramedics started shouting medical stats. Unobserved, Asim walked away from the scene snickering to himself. What’s the rush? He’s dead . Anyone want to take a wild guess ? May I suggest…a heart attack? His own recent near-death experience at the hands of the chemist Nassar was still fresh in his mind. My “dear old menacing friend” predicted that would be the find ings.

Chapter 7
    Cairo, Egypt
    Monday, September 18
    10:14 a.m.
     
    M ichael Doyle was sitting in the back seat of a taxi on his way to the Anglo-American Hospital Zohoreya . He checked his watch. His young driver, Ahmoud, was busily navigating his way through Cairo’s crowded streets, but the trip to visit Schulze in the hospital was taking longer than Michael had anticipated.
    Despite being eager to continue his long-awaited Egyptian vacation that he had fantasized about exploring since his early teenage years, Michael felt it was necessary to follow up and make sure nothing untoward had occurred. Deep in his heart he hoped to find Schulze well. He was also hoping that all his talk about being poisoned had been a vivid figment of Schulze’s heat-addled imagination.
    His first surprise took the form of Cairo’s infamous traffic. For a big city, such as Cairo, traffic is a major issue and even a typical day’s navigating is not an easy procedure. Considered the largest city in Africa, Cairo is home to at least eighteen million people. As its streets are already clogged with stop-and-go traffic, it is good news that not every family has a car.
    Abruptly, Ahmoud made a right hand turn and sped down a narrow street where all the other headlights were pointed the wrong way. When he looked in the rear view mirror and saw Michael scowling, Ahmoud laughed and pointedly reminded him that while many streets are marked as one-way, this rule is not always respected. Further, as Michael soon observed, red lights do not necessarily mean “stop”, or for that matter even “slow down.” Cars flooded through the red lights with their horns blaring to warn anyone foolish enough to consider getting in their way. In Cairo it is the worst of mistakes to believe that a green “walk” light indicates it is safe for pedestrians to cross the road. Michael shook his head as a couple of tourists almost learned that lesson the hard way. He realized that the overriding rule seemed to be for everyone to make use of every bit of available space. Many of the streets lacked lane markers, but the ones that were there were simply ignored. The