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cerned with the creaking of floorboards。 Narrowing the torch beam； he peered out into the hallway； shining the light along its length。 Moonlight glowed through the grime of the tiny windows above the backdoor。 The hallway had a turn in it and he surmised that it straightened again and led towards the lodge's main door。 The stairway would be in that direction too。
lie eased himself from the room； holding the torch away from his bode。 Keeping close to the wall opposite the door he had just left。 Halloran slowly walked towards the front of the building。 fie passed another door on his right。 but did not try the handle； guessing it would Dead to a cellar。
He reached the point where the hallway turned； and hesitated； listening intently far a few seconds。 Only silence。 But the smell of oldness was even stranger here。
Halloran noticed a lightswitch close to where he stood and he reaches Diut； pushing it down with one extended finger； the thin torch gripped with the others。 Nothing happened； and he was not surprised。 Whoever lived in the lodge…house enjoyed the darkness。
He went on； rounding the bend。 and pointed the torch at the front door。 There were large baits； top and bottom； rusted fixtures that looked as if they hadn't been shifted for decades。 Another door nn his left； the staircase rising above him on his right。 Halloran made his way towards the door。
Slipping the straps of the bag over his left shoulder and changing the penlight to that hand； he used an elbow to push open the door。 Its creaking was explosive in the silence of the house。
Before entering； he shone the torch through the crack by the hinges； satisfying himself that nobody lurked behind the door； and only then did he step into the room。 It was empty； devoid of any furniture； its curtains colourless with age and filth。 The mustiness prevailed and here the mould festered in thick clusters。 Ceiling struts could be clearly seen where plaster had fallen away。 Halloran left the room； leaving the door open wide。
The staircase loomed up before him。
And it was from there that the worst of the smell wafted down。
Halloran began to climb。
Mather parked directly outside Magma's main entrance； disregarding the double…yellows。 As he limped around the bonnet of his car； he could not help but gaze up at the towering building； its glass and bronze facade brooding under a sky that was quickly filling with leaden clouds from the east。 He felt a charge in the atmosphere； the ing of an electrical storm。
The two security men inside had noticed his arrival and one was crossing the concourse towards the closed entrance while his panion at the circular reception desk lifted a phone。 Mather started forward again； an urgency in his stride。
The security guard had e to a smaller door beside the main entrance and had already opened it a fraction by the time the Shield Planner was outside。
'Mr Mather？' the guard enquired； and Mather opened his wallet to display his Shield identity。 'Sir Victor's waiting for you。 I'll take you right up。' The guard said nothing as the lift swiftly ascended to the eighteenth floor； but he appeared tense； as much on edge as Mather himself。 They trudged the thick…carpeted corridor to the chairman's outer office； passing through； waiting when the guard rapped on the inner door。 The guard opened the door after a voice on the other side responded； then stood aside to allow the older man entry； still not uttering a single word。 Mather heard the door close behind him。
Sir Victor did not rise from his seat。 In front of him was a tumbler half…filled with Scotch。
'Good of you to get here so quickly。〃 the Magma chairman said； taking Mather forward。
Although on first glance Sir Victor appeared his usual immaculate self…grey； double…breasted suit； thin…striped shirt and now tie…there was an indefinable dishevelment about him。 Perhaps it was the weariness in his eyes； the slight sagging of his jowls； a few lapse strands of silver hair hanging over his forehead that gave the impression； the Shield Planner mused。 As well as the unexpected laxity in manners； far Mather had not been offered a sent； nor had Sir Victor risen when he had entered the office。 Hardly a return to Stone…age etiquette； but surely an indication of the stress this usually most civilised of men was under。
Now the chairman did rise； but not in deference to the other man。 'I want to show you something；' he said； 'after which we must discuss our course of action。' Curious。 Mather followed the tall man back into the corridor； and then into another office which； like Sir Victor's； bore no title tan is door。 They walked through an outer room where the chairman unlocked a further door into the main office itself。
Mather drew in a sharp breath when he saw the figure slumped forward across the glass and chrome desk。 He hurriedly crossed the room to examine the body。
'Quinn…Reece？' he asked； already sure that it was。
'Security discovered the body earlier this evening；' the chairman replied grimly。
Mather moved around the desk and Leaned close to the prone man's face。 He was prepared to feel for a pulse in Quinn…Reece's neck； but realised it was pointless。 The blueness of the vicechairman〃s lips； the yellowish tinge to his skin； his very stillness； told him all he needed to know。
'Heart failure？〃 be ventured。
°I believe so。 But look at his face。' even mare puzzled； Mather slid an arm beneath QuinnReece；'s chest and pulled him backwards。 He was stunned at what he saw。
' My God he looks as of he 。 。 。'
'Died of fright？〃 Sir Victor finished for him。 'He was sitting upright like that when he was found。 I ordered security to lay him on the desk。 I couldn't bear the thought of him staring that way； his mouth locked open 。 。 。' Mather frowned。 'I think you'd better tell me what's going on。 I assume your people haven't yet called for a doctor or an ambulance？' The chairman's guilt was barely apparent。 'Our security guards are under strict instructions never to bring outsiders onto the premises unless someone in authority sanctions it。 We regard anything that happens within the walls of Magma as pany business； and only I or my executive officers may deem otherwise。'
'Good Lord； man； this has nothing to do with your business。 It's possible that medical attention might have saved him。' Sir Victor was adamant。 'No； I can assure you he was quite dead。 Nothing could have helped him； nothing at all。'
'Well I suggest you call for an ambulance now。'
'Yes； of course。 But first we must talk。 Please allow me a few minutes。'
'Is there good reason？' The chairman looked away from the corpse。 'I believe so；' he said quietly。
The stairboards groaned under his weight。 He thought one or two might break altogether and quickly shifted his footing。 It seemed a long climb to the bend in the stairs； as if time itself were being stretched； and at any second he expected someone to appear above him； so strong was the feeling of another's presence inside the lodge…house。
He stopped for a few moments when his head came level with the landing； and listened again； depending on hearing rather than seeing in such poor light。 There were three doors along the upstairs hallway； one to the left of the staircase； one directly in front； the last further down。 The latter would have a view overlooking the entrance gates； but it was not for that reason alone Halloran chose to inspect it first： he knew； as surely as if someone were calling him； that he would find what he was searching for inside there。
As with the rest of the house； bare boards was the only flooring along the landing and he saw no reason to avoid making noise as he walked its length…it was too late for that。 Nevertheless； his movement was stealthy and his right hand was kept free； ready to snatch the gun from its holster at the slightest provocation； even though he was there in his role as Kline's protector； not as an enemy。
The smell of rotting was nauseating as he drew close to the door and he swallowed the wetness rising in his throat。
Halloran went on by the door； going to the window at the tar end of the hallway。 He pushed aside half…drawn curtains； the coarse material stiffened with dust； and rubbed a palm against the dirt on the glass； clearing a section to see out。 Moonlight glimmered from the roof and bonnet of the Mercedes below； the iron bars of the entrance gates looked blackly solid； the undergrowth opposite seemed impenetrable。 Light withered as a cloud rolled over the moon。
Halloran returned to the door； his torch haloing the handle。 fie pressed his ear close to the wood； but heard no sounds from the other side。 Hitching the bag so that it was secure on his shoulder； he reached for the doorhandle。
He was sure the door would be locked。 It wasn't。
He expected to use force to push the door open。 It opened smoothly。
He thought he would confront the lodge…keeper； the guardian of the gates。
Instead he met his past。
34 INTO THE PIT
Kline moaned as Khayed ministered the lotion to his ruptured skin。 The burning would soon pass； the Arab assured him； and Kline knew the truth of what he said； his loyal servants had soothed him with their oils many times before。 But that was when the sloughing of his skin had been expected； had bee a ritual； a ceremony to be indulged in； to be celebrated； for it was the outward sign of spiritual rejuvenation。 And a continuance of his own servitude。
He uttered a cry； more in fear than in pain。 Daoud misunderstood and hurried forward with the syringe。 'Mouallem？' Kline saw the needle and raised a hand to deny the morphine； for the drug would dim his thoughts； euphoria would blunt the danger that was so close。 Yet his senses were already hindered； for dread gnawed at them like some avaricious parasite。 The killing that day of the enemy within had not calmed his unease； as he thought it would； instead the mental effort had further drained his psyche； and weakened him physically。 The death of Quinn…Reece had not resolved his own anguish； but had merely contributed to his present condition。
He beckoned Daoud forward again； speaking to the Arab in his native tongue。 'A moderate amount； Youssef。 Enough only to soften my 。 。 。' he almost said fear'。 。 。 my pain。' The needle was like a blade heated by fire； but Kline's scream swiftly relaxed to a sigh as his senses began to float。 Soon he dreamed； but in truth； it was a memory 。 。 。 。 。 he lowered himself into the pit； terribly afraid。 It was so deep； so black。 But for that reason； it would yield even greater treasures。 Why else should it be so skilfully concealed from the other sepulchres？ The reward for his courage would indeed be great！ The Jewish merchant in Jerusalem had promised him that。 Journey to Ur； find employment with the English archaeologist。 He needs men of education； people who can direct the lazy and treacherous labourers； and who will appreciate and understand the cultural value of his great discovery。 The Arabs will obey because the Englishman will put his trust in you and they will have little choice。 You are clever； you are cunning。 Bring back to me what ；small treasures you can easily steal and I will make you a rich man； for I have collectors who will pay kings' ransoms for the most meagre of items from the fabulous and glorious era！ These Arabs are plunderers； destroyers； scum of the earth； and care nothing for their heritage。 They will allow their own history to be taken from them by foreigners。 But we will profit by their stupidity； my young friend。 And we will bring great joy to those who honour such relics。
The journey to the Royal Cemetery of Ur had been long and wearisome and he had worried that the dig would be over by the time he arrived there； but no； there was still much work to be done； many more tombs that lay at the bottom of deep shafts beneath thousands of surface graves to be revealed。 And the merchant had been correct： the team of foreigners needed several of his ilk to organise the transient labour force； arrange permits and payroll； maintain supplies and medicines； as well as sectoring the site against thieving infiltrators。 He had worked diligently； never being too greedy with