Free Sphinx by Robin Cook

heavenward in a bold affirmation of the worldly power of Islam. They reached the Nile at the level of the northern tip of the island of Roda. Turning to the right, they headed up the broad avenue that ran along the east bank of the mighty river. The sparkling cool blue of the water, reflecting the afternoon sunlight in a million diamonds, provided a refreshing contrast to the heat and squalor of downtown Cairo. When Erica had first seen the Nile the day before, she had been impressed by its history and the fact that its waters came from distant equatorial Africa. Today she could really understand that Cairo and all of inhabited Egypt could not exist without the river. The oppressive dust and heat proclaimed the power and harshness of the desert that pressed constantly at Cairo’s back door, threatening like a plague.
    Yvon drove directly to the front entrance of the Hilton. Leaving the keys in the car, he managed to beat the turbaned doorman to the passenger side and chivalrously helped Erica out of the car. Erica, who had just witnessed the most violent scenes of her life, smiled at the unexpected gallantry. Coming from America, she was unaccustomed to seeing such an obviously masculine man concerned with the details of courtesy. It was a unique European combination, and one which, even exhausted as she was, Erica could not help but find charming.
    â€œI will wait for you if you would like to go to your room and freshen up before we talk,” said Yvon as they entered the busy lobby. The afternoon international flights had arrived.
    â€œI think I need a drink first,” said Erica without a moment’s hesitation.
    The temperature of the air-conditioned cocktail lounge was delicious, like sliding into a pool of crystal water. They sat in a corner booth and ordered. When the drinks came, Erica held the frosted glass of her vodka and tonic to her cheek for a moment to appreciate its coolness.
    Looking at Yvon calmly sipping his Pernod, she realized how quickly he could adapt to his environment. He was as comfortable within the depths of the Khan el Khalili as he was in the Hilton. There was the same confidence, the same control. Looking more carefully at his clothes, Erica recognized how fastidiously they were tailored to his body. Comparing their elegance to Richard’s unchanging Brooks Brothers look made her smile, but she knew that Richard was not interested in clothes and that the comparison wasn’t fair.
    Erica took a taste of her drink and began to relax. She took another sip, a bigger one, and breathed in deeply before swallowing. “God, what an experience,” she said. She rested her head in her hand and massaged her temples. Yvon remained silent. After a few minutes she sat up and straightened her shoulders. “What are you going to do about the Seti statue?”
    â€œI’m going to try to find it,” said Yvon. “I must find it before it gets out of Egypt. Did Abdul Hamdi say anything to you about where it was going? Anything?”
    â€œOnly that it was in the shop for a few hours and it would soon resume its journey. Nothing else.”
    â€œAbout a year ago, a similar statue appeared and—”
    â€œWhat do you mean, similar?” asked Erica excitedly.
    â€œIt was a gilded statue of Seti I,” said Yvon.
    â€œDid you actually see it, Yvon?”
    â€œNo. If I had, it would not be in Houston today. It was bought by an oil man through a bank in Switzerland. I tried to trace it, but Swiss banks are very uncooperative. I got nowhere.”
    â€œDo you know if the Houston statue had hieroglyphics carved in the base?” asked Erica.
    Yvon shook his head while lighting a Gauloise. “I haven’t the slightest idea. Why do you ask?”
    â€œBecause the statue I saw had hieroglyphics cut intothe base,” said Erica, warming to the subject. “And the thing that caught my eye was the fact that there were the names of two pharaohs. Seti I