and a pad of graph paper. I’ll take care of the rest. Tomorrow I’ll just be doing a general survey and setting up a work schedule. I still don’t have a precise idea of what I’ll find and what problems may come up. Later you can help me to map out the elevations and position the objects inside the tomb.’
The girl seemed disappointed. ‘I had imagined that you’d be bringing in a load of sophisticated instruments, but all you seem to need is a rope ladder and a torch.’
‘I’m old-fashioned,’ said Blake. ‘When the time comes I’ll show you some advanced methods of research, but for now that’s all I’ll be needing. I want to figure out who the person buried in that tomb is. All the way out here, so far away from everything and everyone.’
Gordon got up, said goodnight to them all, and walked off to his trailer, soon imitated by Sullivan.
Maddox looked at his watch. ‘We turn in early here,’ he said. ‘And I’ve got a long day tomorrow. Goodnight, Professor Blake.’
‘Goodnight, Mr Maddox.’
Sarah got up and walked towards a camp stove. ‘I’m going to make some coffee,’ she said. ‘Would you like some?’
‘Love it,’ said Blake.
‘It’ll keep you awake. Aren’t you tired?’
‘Dead tired, but I’m not sleepy. It’ll come, sooner or later. A cup of coffee more or less won’t make much difference.’
‘Well, we don’t have any more than ten, fifteen minutes before they turn off the generator. Maddox can’t sleep with the noise of the engine.’
‘I see.’
‘And it will get freezing cold out here before you know it. The temperature drops from one minute to the next.’ She poured him some boiling coffee in a plastic cup. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Eager as all hell to get started. I’m afraid I won’t close an eye tonight. I still can’t believe all this actually.’ He took a sip of coffee and glanced over at the girl sitting in the circle of light cast by a single bulb with a jacket thrown carelessly over her shoulders. She was very pretty and she knew it.
‘What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?’ he teased.
‘They’re paying me well,’ she said. ‘What about you?’
‘What do you say to a fire?’ he asked in reply.
‘You mean a camp fire?’
‘Well, there’s plenty of dry wood around here and it’s starting to get cold.’
The generator suddenly went off and the camp was lit only by the light of the moon.
‘If you like.’
Blake went towards the dry river bed, uprooted an old tree trunk and dragged it to the tent, then gathered some brushwood, dry tamarisk and broom branches, and used his lighter to set fire to the pile he’d arranged. The flames rose crackling and enveloped the trunk in a ball of lively orange light.
‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ He took a chair and went to sit next to the bonfire, lighting up a cigarette.
‘Well, what about you? What are you doing in a place like this?’ the girl asked again.
Blake turned towards her and noticed her slim figure caressed by the light of the flames.
‘I was an Egyptologist at the Oriental Institute in Chicago, and not one of the worst. I got burned doing something stupid and my superiors and colleagues couldn’t believe their luck. I accepted this job because I had no future.’
‘Are you married?’
‘Divorced. For . . . two days now.’
‘Fresh wound, huh?’ She studied him with an odd expression that to Blake looked like condescension.
‘When it rains, it pours, I guess,’ he said. ‘Things happen. You survive. A change of air and starting to work again will do me good.’
Sarah met his glance for a moment through the flickering light and read emotion much deeper than the perfunctory words he’d pronounced. She felt a wave of desire for him, but pulled back instinctively.
‘You can count on my technical assistance,’ she said. ‘Anything else you can forget about.’
Blake didn’t respond. Instead, he poked at the ashes under the fire to stoke up
The girl seemed disappointed. ‘I had imagined that you’d be bringing in a load of sophisticated instruments, but all you seem to need is a rope ladder and a torch.’
‘I’m old-fashioned,’ said Blake. ‘When the time comes I’ll show you some advanced methods of research, but for now that’s all I’ll be needing. I want to figure out who the person buried in that tomb is. All the way out here, so far away from everything and everyone.’
Gordon got up, said goodnight to them all, and walked off to his trailer, soon imitated by Sullivan.
Maddox looked at his watch. ‘We turn in early here,’ he said. ‘And I’ve got a long day tomorrow. Goodnight, Professor Blake.’
‘Goodnight, Mr Maddox.’
Sarah got up and walked towards a camp stove. ‘I’m going to make some coffee,’ she said. ‘Would you like some?’
‘Love it,’ said Blake.
‘It’ll keep you awake. Aren’t you tired?’
‘Dead tired, but I’m not sleepy. It’ll come, sooner or later. A cup of coffee more or less won’t make much difference.’
‘Well, we don’t have any more than ten, fifteen minutes before they turn off the generator. Maddox can’t sleep with the noise of the engine.’
‘I see.’
‘And it will get freezing cold out here before you know it. The temperature drops from one minute to the next.’ She poured him some boiling coffee in a plastic cup. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Eager as all hell to get started. I’m afraid I won’t close an eye tonight. I still can’t believe all this actually.’ He took a sip of coffee and glanced over at the girl sitting in the circle of light cast by a single bulb with a jacket thrown carelessly over her shoulders. She was very pretty and she knew it.
‘What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?’ he teased.
‘They’re paying me well,’ she said. ‘What about you?’
‘What do you say to a fire?’ he asked in reply.
‘You mean a camp fire?’
‘Well, there’s plenty of dry wood around here and it’s starting to get cold.’
The generator suddenly went off and the camp was lit only by the light of the moon.
‘If you like.’
Blake went towards the dry river bed, uprooted an old tree trunk and dragged it to the tent, then gathered some brushwood, dry tamarisk and broom branches, and used his lighter to set fire to the pile he’d arranged. The flames rose crackling and enveloped the trunk in a ball of lively orange light.
‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ He took a chair and went to sit next to the bonfire, lighting up a cigarette.
‘Well, what about you? What are you doing in a place like this?’ the girl asked again.
Blake turned towards her and noticed her slim figure caressed by the light of the flames.
‘I was an Egyptologist at the Oriental Institute in Chicago, and not one of the worst. I got burned doing something stupid and my superiors and colleagues couldn’t believe their luck. I accepted this job because I had no future.’
‘Are you married?’
‘Divorced. For . . . two days now.’
‘Fresh wound, huh?’ She studied him with an odd expression that to Blake looked like condescension.
‘When it rains, it pours, I guess,’ he said. ‘Things happen. You survive. A change of air and starting to work again will do me good.’
Sarah met his glance for a moment through the flickering light and read emotion much deeper than the perfunctory words he’d pronounced. She felt a wave of desire for him, but pulled back instinctively.
‘You can count on my technical assistance,’ she said. ‘Anything else you can forget about.’
Blake didn’t respond. Instead, he poked at the ashes under the fire to stoke up
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