image of an Egyptian god that to Viktor’s knowledge hadn’t been worshipped in thousands of years?
Perhaps the medallion and the attendant oddities were the toys of an eccentric businessman, but Viktor thought not. Viktor had developed a sixth sense for his profession. Grey’s description of Al-Miri, combined with the specific religious symbolism, likely meant one thing.
Al-Miri was part of a cult.
Cults ranged from the serious to the ridiculous, from dangerous collections of sexual predators and religious fanatics to misguided teens in a basement pretending to be vampires. They numbered in the tens of thousands. He’d seen more examples of cult behavior, both base and profound, ridiculous and deadly, than perhaps anyone alive. It was his profession and his passion.
But he hadn’t seen this one.
He needed guidance on the subject matter at hand. Professional guidance. His eyes flicked to a piece of paper. Professor Gunther Krantz, Berlin Museum fur Naturkunde, 4:00p.m., Thursday.
Soon he would see what an Egyptologist had to say.
– 18 –
“C ancel that beer and come with me,” Veronica said. “My side of town is much better.”
“Better is a relative term,” Grey said.
“Not in this case.”
“I’ll admit I’m curious as hell to know what you’re doing here and how you found me, but I’m spent. I just want to drink this beer. There’s another seat right there.”
“I have a taxi waiting. Ten minute drive.”
“Look me up tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere.”
Veronica stood in her smart cocktail dress, hands on her hips and lips parted in disbelief. She swept a hand around the dim establishment. The other patrons had left off their beers and were staring at her. “You don’t speak Bulgarian, and this place is about as exciting as a Russian winter. Are you honestly going to choose sitting here by yourself over getting into a cab with me? You should know there’s something else my watering hole of choice has which this one doesn’t: a key piece of information concerning your case. Although I can’t believe I’m having to bribe you to come with me. Are you meeting someone else later? Maybe that’s it. These Bulgarian girls are quite attractive.”
“It’s not personal. It’s just been a long day. But if you know something, let’s talk.” He patted the stool next to him.
“You enjoy your five-star Bulgarian beer that you can get in any bar or restaurant in a thousand-mile radius.” She lowered her voice. “I’m sure your investigative skills have already led you to a certain top dog at Somax and his mysterious new product, so you don’t need me anyway.”
His eyebrows rose.
“I won’t be in Sofia tomorrow. I have a lead to follow. Cheers, Dominic.”
Grey looked at the bartender, who had a hand hovering over a pull. Grey held a finger up and wagged it, then stood with a weary sigh.
“Call me Grey.”
• • •
They took a taxi to the far end of Vitosha, to a place called the Buddha Bar. Grey wondered if Veronica had brought the Buddha Bar with her from Manhattan. It was an impossibly chic scene. They sat in wicker lounge chairs on the outdoor patio and watched the surly wait staff strut around, beautiful waifish girls with almond-shaped eyes and long black hair and miniskirts. A huge projector screen on a wall across the street displayed continuous fashion shows from Paris and Milan.
Grey ordered another Kamenitza at three times the price of the first bar, and Veronica ordered a vodka martini. She looked him over. “Do you own any shirts that aren’t black?”
“I have a brown shirt. I think.”
“I guess black suits you. But you could brighten up a bit. Maybe trim the hair, shave, thin the eyebrows? I suppose then you couldn’t brood as well.”
Grey’s mouth formed a lopsided grin. “How do you find these places?”
She stretched like a cat. “A girl has to know where to go. Although if I stop to think about this place I might start feeling
Perhaps the medallion and the attendant oddities were the toys of an eccentric businessman, but Viktor thought not. Viktor had developed a sixth sense for his profession. Grey’s description of Al-Miri, combined with the specific religious symbolism, likely meant one thing.
Al-Miri was part of a cult.
Cults ranged from the serious to the ridiculous, from dangerous collections of sexual predators and religious fanatics to misguided teens in a basement pretending to be vampires. They numbered in the tens of thousands. He’d seen more examples of cult behavior, both base and profound, ridiculous and deadly, than perhaps anyone alive. It was his profession and his passion.
But he hadn’t seen this one.
He needed guidance on the subject matter at hand. Professional guidance. His eyes flicked to a piece of paper. Professor Gunther Krantz, Berlin Museum fur Naturkunde, 4:00p.m., Thursday.
Soon he would see what an Egyptologist had to say.
– 18 –
“C ancel that beer and come with me,” Veronica said. “My side of town is much better.”
“Better is a relative term,” Grey said.
“Not in this case.”
“I’ll admit I’m curious as hell to know what you’re doing here and how you found me, but I’m spent. I just want to drink this beer. There’s another seat right there.”
“I have a taxi waiting. Ten minute drive.”
“Look me up tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere.”
Veronica stood in her smart cocktail dress, hands on her hips and lips parted in disbelief. She swept a hand around the dim establishment. The other patrons had left off their beers and were staring at her. “You don’t speak Bulgarian, and this place is about as exciting as a Russian winter. Are you honestly going to choose sitting here by yourself over getting into a cab with me? You should know there’s something else my watering hole of choice has which this one doesn’t: a key piece of information concerning your case. Although I can’t believe I’m having to bribe you to come with me. Are you meeting someone else later? Maybe that’s it. These Bulgarian girls are quite attractive.”
“It’s not personal. It’s just been a long day. But if you know something, let’s talk.” He patted the stool next to him.
“You enjoy your five-star Bulgarian beer that you can get in any bar or restaurant in a thousand-mile radius.” She lowered her voice. “I’m sure your investigative skills have already led you to a certain top dog at Somax and his mysterious new product, so you don’t need me anyway.”
His eyebrows rose.
“I won’t be in Sofia tomorrow. I have a lead to follow. Cheers, Dominic.”
Grey looked at the bartender, who had a hand hovering over a pull. Grey held a finger up and wagged it, then stood with a weary sigh.
“Call me Grey.”
• • •
They took a taxi to the far end of Vitosha, to a place called the Buddha Bar. Grey wondered if Veronica had brought the Buddha Bar with her from Manhattan. It was an impossibly chic scene. They sat in wicker lounge chairs on the outdoor patio and watched the surly wait staff strut around, beautiful waifish girls with almond-shaped eyes and long black hair and miniskirts. A huge projector screen on a wall across the street displayed continuous fashion shows from Paris and Milan.
Grey ordered another Kamenitza at three times the price of the first bar, and Veronica ordered a vodka martini. She looked him over. “Do you own any shirts that aren’t black?”
“I have a brown shirt. I think.”
“I guess black suits you. But you could brighten up a bit. Maybe trim the hair, shave, thin the eyebrows? I suppose then you couldn’t brood as well.”
Grey’s mouth formed a lopsided grin. “How do you find these places?”
She stretched like a cat. “A girl has to know where to go. Although if I stop to think about this place I might start feeling
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