a
Fachhochschule
back in Cottbus. Travelled in the East a lot after his wife died. No children.’
‘So, what led him to take an interest in the Dandolo Project specifically?’ said Marlow.
‘It’s just one of several, on the face of it.’ Graves looked at the onscreen notes. ‘MAXPHIL is involved in investigating ways of salvaging the damage done to Iraq’s cultural heritage, for example, and another venture has to do with a research programme into the history of the origins of mathematics and astronomy. Both university-run projects. The principal one for the Iraq undertaking is Houston, the other is Humboldt, his old
alma mater
.’
‘All very respectable.’
‘Yes,’ said Graves evenly, locking the file she’d opened and snapping it off. She took her glasses from her nose, and pinched the bridge.
The blue telephone rang. Marlow spoke briefly then listened, his expression changing as he did so.
‘So soon?’ he said. ‘But I haven’t had time to brief them fully –’
The voice at the other end interrupted him.
‘I see,’ he said. ‘OK.’ He listened some more, his expression changing again, to one of incredulous surprise. ‘Yes, of course. At once.’
He put the phone down carefully and stood up before speaking. ‘That, it goes without saying, was Sir Richard.’
‘What’s he handing down from the mountain now?’ asked Lopez.
Marlow looked at Graves. ‘You and I are flying to Istanbul tomorrow. We’ve a meeting with Detective-Major Haki, Turkish security service. He’s handling the disappearance that end.’
‘What a way to start your job,’ grinned Lopez. ‘No such luck for me, I gather.’
‘You know you hate travelling,’ said Marlow. ‘You’ve got to clear your decks completely for anything we send you for analysis. Premier urgency.’
‘What’ve they found?’
‘They’ll give us the details when we get there, but there’s a coded email coming through now,’ he replied. ‘But right now, Hudson wants me in his office. He has a visitor who’s keen to meet me.’
‘And that is?’
‘Rolf Adler.’
9
Marlow filled Graves in on the meeting with Adler on the way to the airport.
‘Why was he there?’
‘God knows how much influence he has to have reached us in the first place,’ replied Marlow, ‘but he knew all about the archaeologists, and offered his services in helping to locate them. Hudson was non-committal, but it’s obvious that Adler’s got some pull.’
‘What’s he like?’
Marlow shrugged. ‘He’s got that patina the very rich have: a kind of sheen, a kind of confidence other people just don’t possess. Looks younger than he is, obviously works out a bit. Grey hair, hooded eyes. Too much bling, but all of it’s there to make its point – cufflinks, rings, tie-pin, watch – all signalling that his corner shops are Asprey’s, Cartier and Tiffany’s.’
‘But you didn’t pick anything up from him?’
‘Sixth sense, you mean? No.’
‘Anything to bring us closer to the archaeologists?’
Marlow didn’t know Graves yet, and one instinct which was strong in him, especially now, was never to show his hand to anyone until he was sure of them. He knew his own weaknesses and he also knew how, even with his guard up, they could still take him by surprise. There’d been times when he’d thought he’d give up, hand in his resignation,but each time he’d hesitated, and now his career had taken him beyond that option, and what he’d been deluded enough to believe was the love of his life had gone. What was left to him – all that was left – was his work. And a chance to redeem himself.
Graves went on. ‘How does he want to help?’
‘How do you think? By throwing money at the problem.’
‘But he’d want to know what we know too?’
‘Didn’t seem to concern him.’
‘Does that concern you?’
‘What do you think?’ said Marlow, with a slight smile. He was sitting close to her in the car, and Graves felt the
Fachhochschule
back in Cottbus. Travelled in the East a lot after his wife died. No children.’
‘So, what led him to take an interest in the Dandolo Project specifically?’ said Marlow.
‘It’s just one of several, on the face of it.’ Graves looked at the onscreen notes. ‘MAXPHIL is involved in investigating ways of salvaging the damage done to Iraq’s cultural heritage, for example, and another venture has to do with a research programme into the history of the origins of mathematics and astronomy. Both university-run projects. The principal one for the Iraq undertaking is Houston, the other is Humboldt, his old
alma mater
.’
‘All very respectable.’
‘Yes,’ said Graves evenly, locking the file she’d opened and snapping it off. She took her glasses from her nose, and pinched the bridge.
The blue telephone rang. Marlow spoke briefly then listened, his expression changing as he did so.
‘So soon?’ he said. ‘But I haven’t had time to brief them fully –’
The voice at the other end interrupted him.
‘I see,’ he said. ‘OK.’ He listened some more, his expression changing again, to one of incredulous surprise. ‘Yes, of course. At once.’
He put the phone down carefully and stood up before speaking. ‘That, it goes without saying, was Sir Richard.’
‘What’s he handing down from the mountain now?’ asked Lopez.
Marlow looked at Graves. ‘You and I are flying to Istanbul tomorrow. We’ve a meeting with Detective-Major Haki, Turkish security service. He’s handling the disappearance that end.’
‘What a way to start your job,’ grinned Lopez. ‘No such luck for me, I gather.’
‘You know you hate travelling,’ said Marlow. ‘You’ve got to clear your decks completely for anything we send you for analysis. Premier urgency.’
‘What’ve they found?’
‘They’ll give us the details when we get there, but there’s a coded email coming through now,’ he replied. ‘But right now, Hudson wants me in his office. He has a visitor who’s keen to meet me.’
‘And that is?’
‘Rolf Adler.’
9
Marlow filled Graves in on the meeting with Adler on the way to the airport.
‘Why was he there?’
‘God knows how much influence he has to have reached us in the first place,’ replied Marlow, ‘but he knew all about the archaeologists, and offered his services in helping to locate them. Hudson was non-committal, but it’s obvious that Adler’s got some pull.’
‘What’s he like?’
Marlow shrugged. ‘He’s got that patina the very rich have: a kind of sheen, a kind of confidence other people just don’t possess. Looks younger than he is, obviously works out a bit. Grey hair, hooded eyes. Too much bling, but all of it’s there to make its point – cufflinks, rings, tie-pin, watch – all signalling that his corner shops are Asprey’s, Cartier and Tiffany’s.’
‘But you didn’t pick anything up from him?’
‘Sixth sense, you mean? No.’
‘Anything to bring us closer to the archaeologists?’
Marlow didn’t know Graves yet, and one instinct which was strong in him, especially now, was never to show his hand to anyone until he was sure of them. He knew his own weaknesses and he also knew how, even with his guard up, they could still take him by surprise. There’d been times when he’d thought he’d give up, hand in his resignation,but each time he’d hesitated, and now his career had taken him beyond that option, and what he’d been deluded enough to believe was the love of his life had gone. What was left to him – all that was left – was his work. And a chance to redeem himself.
Graves went on. ‘How does he want to help?’
‘How do you think? By throwing money at the problem.’
‘But he’d want to know what we know too?’
‘Didn’t seem to concern him.’
‘Does that concern you?’
‘What do you think?’ said Marlow, with a slight smile. He was sitting close to her in the car, and Graves felt the
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