Death on Tour - Janice Hamrick [85]
I walked slowly away from the group to get a better view. To my surprise, Alan joined me. I didn’t move. It would have taken too much energy to walk away from him. We stood looking at the giants. Or I looked at them. He seemed to be concentrating on me. I don’t know why that made me just a bit happy. There was just something about the man. I tried reminding myself that he had very likely been the attacker who knocked me over the head. Maybe my necklace was in his pocket right now.
“How are you feeling this morning?” he asked.
“Fine. Maybe a little headachy.”
“I think they might have looked better left unrestored,” he said. “Like the broken colossus at Abu Simbel.”
I made an effort to be polite. “Maybe. I admit I would like to have heard the ruins moaning when the wind passed over them, the way they used to. That must have been extremely creepy. But you wouldn’t be able to tell just how huge they were. Even patched together, they are pretty impressive.”
“‘Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair,’” he quoted.
“Ozymandias, King of Kings,” I supplied, surprised.
He turned to me suddenly and took my hands in his. “Jocelyn, listen. I … I need to tell you something. And to apologize.”
His hands were large and warm. I looked down at them, making no move to withdraw my own. He was close enough that I could smell the scent of his soap on his skin and feel the heat from his body. I lifted my eyes to his, questioning.
“I’m … damn it. This is harder than I thought.” He took a deep breath and started again. “Look, I’m not exactly who I said I was.”
I yanked my hands away. “Well, duh. You sneak around, you talk to the police, you speak Arabic. Is your real name even Alan?”
“Yes! Yes it is,” he gasped.
“Are you married?” This was important.
“No! I’ve never been married.”
“No dead wife who planned this trip?”
He had the grace to look ashamed. “No. That was just to explain being alone.”
“Financial analyst?”
“Not really. I sometimes balance my checkbook,” he added hopefully.
I ignored this. “Was anything you’ve told me true?”
He opened his mouth, and then hesitated. Across the parking lot, Anni was waving the Hello Kitty umbrella and the rest of the group was slowly moving toward the bus. Mohammad stood alone at the edge of the parking lot. He appeared to be staring straight at Alan and me, and for some reason that made me uneasy.
“There’s not really time now. Can we talk later?”
It was my turn to hesitate. I finally said, “What is the point? You’ve done nothing but lie to me, and after tomorrow I’ll never see you again, so what difference does it make?” I could feel the bitter disappointment of that statement filling my mouth like vinegar. I swallowed it down. “And whatever it is you have to say, tell me why I should believe you now.”
He looked stricken, but he didn’t answer. I turned and joined the others. A part of me hoped he would follow, that he would stop me and beg me to listen, but he just stood there, and when he finally got on the bus, he sat in a different seat.
* * *
We stopped next at Deir el-Bahari, the great temple built by Queen Hatshepsut. Carved directly into the face of the mountain, the temple looked as though it had been created from a single great block of white stone. Three separate levels of courtyards, protected by striking columns, were connected by a massive ramped stairway that gently climbed from the valley floor. Compared to the other mortuary complexes we had seen so far, this one looked more like a queen’s court instead of a temple dedicated to death.
The parking lot was already crowded with tourists, and we could see a school bus unloading a large group of children. The most interesting field trip I ever took as a child was to the capital building in Austin. These children casually dropped by the greatest monuments in the world. I wondered if they fully appreciated it. Watching two boys scuffle with each other, I decided probably not.