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lit by the sun, a dull nicotine yellow, filtered through the smog of the city. Its funding had been stopped, as a new museum was being constructed near the pyramids, so this place was decaying even as a new one sprang to life. It was how Egypt had always been.  
    Morgan walked towards the imposing Neo-Classical entrance between the chipped sphinx statues, their mouths open to ask the traveler the ancient riddle of passage. Security guards sat drinking ‘qahweh’, the thick dark coffee that fueled Cairo. One raised a hand to greet her but they seemed uncaring of protocol or unconcerned about intruders, despite the murder in the museum and unrest in the city.  
    “Dr Sierra,” a warm voice called from the museum porch.  
    Morgan looked up to see a slim man in a cream linen suit with a striped shirt coming down the steps. With his black skin and lively eyes, she knew this must be Julius Kagame. He reached out his hand and she offered hers in return. His handshake was firm, his eyes meeting hers and she could feel his wiry strength even though he was only slightly taller than her.  
    “Jake has told me all about you,” he said with a grin.  
    “All bad, I hope,” Morgan smiled back.  
    “Not at all, but I’m sorry to say that I may be a poor substitute as a partner. Jake has all the brawn, but perhaps I have the brains?”
    “You’re the local ARKANE liaison?” Morgan asked.
    “Yes, I’m one of the agents here in Africa, although I’m usually based in the sub-Saharan countries. My rusty Arabic needed an airing and I wanted to be part of this for personal reasons.” Julius looked grave. “Is Jake still in a coma?”
    Morgan nodded. “But I’m determined that I’ll be there to tell him we’ve got Natasha El-Behery when he wakes up.”
    Julius shook his head, sadness in his eyes. “Jake is like a brother to me and we have history from before ARKANE. I owe him my life, so I asked to be the one to help you on this project. Together we’ll find this woman.”  
    Julius’s hands clenched, a nerve in his jaw twitching as he spoke, and Morgan could see that his passion for revenge matched her own.  
    “Is the murder scene still intact?” she asked, keen to get inside.  
    “This way,” Julius said, leading her up the steps into the Museum. “They’ve taken the body away and cleaned up the blood but it’s easy to see what happened, especially given the video footage. Come in, and I’ll show you.”

    Given the spectacular objects inside the museum and the thousands of years of cultural history within, Morgan had been expecting a pristine environment. But this was Cairo, and the wealth of priceless ancient objects didn’t translate into practical cash for such preservation. Instead, the museum was disorganized and cluttered, with millions of objects displayed in a seemingly haphazard manner. It smelt musty, as if the dust of years still lay upon them.  
    Julius led the way and their footsteps echoed through the empty building.  
    “It’s still closed to the public,” he whispered, the atmosphere sobering. “But there have been leaks of what happened and rumors of evil that has been stirred up, so no one wants to visit anyway.”
    “Why is it all so cluttered?” Morgan asked as she stopped and gently wiped a layer of dust from the top of a display case. There were labels in spindly writing on some of the objects but others just lay there, as if discarded in an old drawer.  
    “There’s so much here,” Julius said, “They just don't know what to do with it all. But come, I'll show you the Akhenaten room where the murder was committed.”  
    Passing through the great entrance hall, they entered a side room which Morgan recognized from the video footage. The smell of bleach hung in the air but it couldn’t completely mask the coppery tang of blood and the stench of emptied bowels that caught the back of the throat. Lights had been set up around the sarcophagus in the middle of the room,