Sphinx by Robin Cook Page A

excited.
    â€œWhat kind of work do you do, Stephanos?” she asked, the delay increasing her anticipation.
    â€œDoes it matter?”
    â€œI’m just interested. But you don’t have to tell me.”
    â€œI own a travel agency, Aegean Holidays, and I do some smuggling on the side. But mostly I chase women.”
    â€œOh, Stephanos. Be serious.”
    â€œI am. I have a comfortable travel business, but I also smuggle machine parts into Egypt, antiquities out. But as I said, I mostly chase women. It’s the one thing I never get tired of.”
    Deborah regarded Stephanos’ dark eyes. To her surprise, the fact that he admitted to being a womanizer enhanced the forbidden exhilaration of the experience. She threw herself against him.
    Stephanos was good at almost everything he did. He could feel her inhibitions relax. With a sense of satisfaction he lifted her and carried her into the apartment. Bypassing the living room, he took her directly into the bedroom. Without resistance he removed her clothes. She looked delicious totally naked in the blue room light.
    Stepping out of his own trousers, Stephanos bent down and kissed Deborah gently on the lips. She reached out, wanting him to take her.
    With shattering suddenness the phone next to the bed began to ring. Stephanos switched on the light to glance at the clock. It was almost midnight. Something was wrong.
    â€œYou answer it,” commanded Stephanos.
    Deborah looked at him with surprise, but quickly picked up the receiver. She said hello in English, and immediately tried to give the phone to Stephanos, saying it was an international call. Stephanos motioned for herto keep the phone and silently told her to find out who was calling. Deborah obediently listened, asked who was calling, and then put her hand over the phone.
    â€œIt’s Cairo. A Monsieur Yvon Julien de Margeau.”
    Stephanos snatched the phone, his face reflecting a sudden change from seeming playfulness to calculation. Deborah shrank back, covering her nakedness. Looking at his face now, Deborah realized she’d made a mistake. She tried to gather her clothes, but Stephanos was sitting on her jeans.
    â€œYou’re not going to convince me you just wanted to have a friendly conversation in the middle of the night,” said Stephanos with uncamouflaged irritation.
    â€œYou’re right, Stephanos,” said Yvon calmly. “I wanted to ask you about Abdul Hamdi. Do you know him?”
    â€œOf course I know the bastard. What about him?”
    â€œHave you done any business with him?”
    â€œThat’s a pretty personal question, Yvon. What are you driving at?”
    â€œHamdi was murdered today.”
    â€œThat’s too bad,” said Stephanos sarcastically. “But why would that concern me?”
    Deborah was still trying to rescue her jeans. Gingerly she put one hand on his back and pulled with the other. Stephanos was aware of the distraction but not the purpose. Savagely he lashed out and hit her with the back of his hand, knocking her off the other side of the bed. With trembling hands she dressed in the clothes she had.
    â€œDo you have any idea who killed Hamdi?” asked Yvon.
    â€œThere are a lot of people who wanted that bastard dead,” said Stephanos angrily. “Myself included.”
    â€œDid he try to blackmail you?”
    â€œListen, de Margeau, I don’t think I want to answer any of these questions. I mean, what is in all this for me?”
    â€œI’m willing to trade you information. I know something you’d like to find out.”
    â€œTry me.”
    â€œHamdi had a Seti I statue like the one in Houston.”
    Stephanos’ face went bloodred. “Jesus Christ!” he shouted jumping to his feet, oblivious of his own nakedness. Deborah saw her chance and retrieved her jeans. Finally dressed, she cowered on the other side of the bed with her back to the wall.
    â€œHow did he get a