John’s hand closed over mine and pushed my arm down. The voice went on, ‘Uh – I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you, Dr Bliss, but – uh – if you’re there, you, uh – Damn it, Fido, are you sure this is the right place? Stupid dog . . .’

Fido (Fido?) barked indignantly. ‘Oh, well, then,’ the voice said. ‘I feel like a jackass, but if you say so . . . Uh. You remember me, Mr Tregarth – Keith Kendrick, from UCal? Uh – how are you?’

I started to laugh.

‘Do come in,’ John said. ‘You’ll have to excuse Dr Bliss; she does this sometimes.’

Giggling maniacally, I shielded my eyes against the brilliance of the light. Behind it was a tall, thin man with sandy hair and an embarrassed smile. The dog at his heels looked like one of the pariah dogs that hang around the villages, but it had a collar and its tail was flailing furiously.

John cleared his throat. ‘Dr Bliss, may I present Dr Kendrick?’

‘Vicky,’ I gasped. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

‘Call me Keith.’

I made an effort and managed to stop laughing. ‘How did you know we were here?’

‘He told me, of course. He’s been expecting you.’

‘Feisal?’ I asked doubtfully.

‘Not Feisal,’ John muttered. ‘I’m afraid it wasn’t Feisal. I’m afraid . . . I don’t think I can stand this.’

‘We did run into Feisal,’ Kendrick said. ‘While we were looking for you. He expected you’d be here before this, and he was getting worried, so we went out – ’

‘He?’ I began waving my arms. ‘I don’t think I can stand this either. He who?’

Kendrick shied back. I’d forgotten I was still holding the gun. ‘Uh – Dr Bliss, if you wouldn’t mind putting that away . . . He’s coming. Don’t get excited. I think I hear him now.’

There was no ‘think’ about it He was coming at full speed, tripping over and running into things. When he burst into the cave he was too out of breath to speak; he grabbed me and hung on, wheezing.

‘Schmidt,’ I gasped. ‘Schmidt, is that you? Thank God you’re all right! What are you doing here?’

‘But why should you be so surprised?’ Schmidt let me go. ‘I told you I would be here. Guten Abend, Sir – John, I am so very happy to see you again!’

He rushed at John, grabbed his hand, and began pumping it up and down. John gave him a bemused smile. ‘Amarna,’ he mumbled. ‘You left those clues. The brochure and the – the – ’

‘The bag, yes, I knew you clever ones would know what they meant. What else could they mean?’

‘Amarna,’ John repeated. ‘Right. Clever ones.’

‘Stop shaking him that way, Schmidt,’ I said. ‘He’s not . . . he’s not feeling well.’

‘Ach, my poor friend! You have a fever, ja? We will return at once to the house. Here, I will support you.’ He turned and yanked John’s arm over his shoulder.