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I’m not really sure. So, what about you?”
    For a moment, Halder looked very young, like a little boy, uncomfortable confessing a secret, but then the moment passed. “I’d like to tell you something first. Something I haven’t ever told anyone. When my mother was finally dying, she didn’t allow my father to see her, to say his last good-bye. Not because she didn’t love him, but for the very opposite reason. She loved him so much. Saying good-bye would have been too painful, too final for them both, and she knew that.” He turned to Weaver. “Theirs was a great love, Harry. And in a way I’ve always wanted the same kind of thing. Truly deep, full of honest passion.”
    â€œAnd how do you feel about Rachel? Be honest.”
    â€œSometimes—often—I’d lie awake, restless, imagining all the things I’d like to happen between her and me. I’d picture us together. I’d picture her pregnant with my child, and happy that she was my wife. I’d picture making love to her—not just sex, but real, honest-to-God love. The kind of tenderness a man should feel for a woman he truly loves. And so many times I really wanted to tell her.” Halder looked at his friend. “You know how foolhardy and impetuous I usually am, and I can’t say I wasn’t tempted to tell her such things. But like you, I just couldn’t.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œProbably for the same reason as you. I really didn’t want to upset the apple cart.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    Halder placed a hand fondly on Weaver’s shoulder. “There’s another kind of love—not physical, but brotherly, or deep friendship, call it what you will, and it’s just as important. You always were the best friend I’ve ever had. Maybe if one of us had made a pass, it would have ruined everything. I don’t just mean between us, because I honestly think our camaraderie is stronger than that, but I mean the friendship we’ve all had this summer. And I didn’t want that to happen.”
    â€œI guess I know what you mean. Besides, when you add it up, the three of us had a great time. And maybe that’s what’s really important.”
    â€œStill, Harry, we’ve both got it bad. And there has to be a practical solution.” Halder allowed himself a playful smile. “Friendship aside, what if there’s the remotest chance that Rachel might be in love with one of us?”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œIf it were so, wouldn’t it be a shame that we didn’t let nature take its course? Otherwise, we could both spend the rest of our lives regretting that we didn’t tell her how we felt before she leaves. At least one of us could be happy. And Rachel, too. It would be fair all round. How do you feel about that?”
    â€œYou really think she might be in love with one of us?”
    Halder smiled again. “Either way, tomorrow’s our last chance to find out.”

3
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    The American ambassador’s residence was packed with international dignitaries, the cream of Egyptian and European expatriate society, everyone from movie stars to diplomats, senior military officers to academics. The party was in full swing, everyone in good spirits, and as Weaver made his way through the dance-floor crowds, he acknowledged the handshakes from the other members of the team saying their good-byes. The press had been invited, and a trestle table was erected in the foyer, two Egyptian policemen standing guard over some of the valuables the dig had uncovered: gem necklaces, scarabs, gold amulets, and stone cartouches.
    As Weaver thanked his well-wishers politely, others pressed in on him, and he had a desperate urge to be alone. “Would you excuse me, please? I need some fresh air.”
    He made his way through the throng, crossed to a French window, and stepped out onto a balcony. It was cool outside, lotus and