Read Online Sphinx by Robin Cook - Free Book Online Page B

and the closer they got, the easier it became to appreciate the elaborate entrance with its two arches and intricate arabesque decorations. It was the first example of medieval Muslim architecture Erica had approached since her arrival. In truth, she did not know much about Islam, and the buildings had a particularly exotic feel for her. Yvon sensed her interest and pointed out the various minarets, particularly those with domes and stone filagree. He continued a running commentary on the mosque’s history, including which sultans had added to it.
    Erica tried to concentrate on Yvon’s monologue, but it became impossible. The area directly in front of the building served as a busy market and was jammed with people. Besides, her mind kept returning to Abdul and the image of his sudden and horrible death. When Yvon changed the subject, Erica did not respond. He had to say again: “This is my car. May I give you a lift to your hotel?” It was a black Egyptian-built Fiat, relatively new, but with a full complement of dents and scrapes. “It is not a Citroën, but it is okay.”
    Erica was momentarily flustered. She had not expected a private auto. A taxi would have been fine; she liked Yvon, but he was a stranger in a strange land. Her eyes betrayed her thoughts.
    â€œPlease understand my position,” said Yvon. “I feel that you were caught in a very unfortunate circumstance. I am glad I happened by, wishing only that I’d been twenty minutes earlier. I merely want to help you. Cairo can be difficult, and with the kind of experience you’ve had, it could be overwhelming. At this time of day you will not catch a taxi. There simply are not enough. Let me give you a ride to your hotel.”
    â€œWhat about Raoul?” asked Erica, trying to stall.
    Yvon unlocked the passenger door and opened it. Instead of trying to pressure Erica, he walked over to a turbaned Arab who had been apparently watching the car, spoke some words of Arabic, and dropped a few coins in the man’s open palm. Then he opened the driver’s door and got in, leaning across to smile up at Erica. His blue eyes appeared soft in the afternoon sun. “Don’t worry about Raoul. He can take care of himself. It’s you I am worried about. If you have the fortitude to wander around Cairo by yourself, you certainly shouldn’t mind riding with me as far as your hotel. But if not, tell me where you are staying and I’ll meet you there in the lobby. I’m not ready to give up on this Seti I statue, and you may be able to help.”
    Yvon busied himself with his seat belt. Erica glanced around the square, sighed, and got into the car. “The Hilton,” she said.
    The ride was not relaxing. Prior to pulling away from the curb, Yvon had donned soft kid driving gloves, pulling the leather over each finger with great care. When he did put the car in gear, it was with a vengeance, and the small auto leaped into the traffic with squealing wheels. Because of the snarled traffic, the brakes had to be applied immediately, with the result that Erica had to brace herself against the dash. And so the ride continued in sudden fits and stops, throwing Erica forward and backward. They went from what she thought was one near-accident to the next, often clearing other autos, trucks, donkey carts, and even buildings by millimeters. Animals and people fled before them as Yvon, gripping the steering wheel with both hands, drove as if he wereengaged in a competitive sport. He was determined and aggressive, although he did not become angry or exasperated at the performance of others. If another car or cart snaked in front of him, he did not mind. He would wait patiently until a slot opened, then race forward.
    They headed southwest out of the bustling center, passing the remains of the old city walls and the magnificent citadel of Saladin. Within the citadel the domes and minarets of the Muhammad Ali mosque soared