The Cairo Code Read Free Page A

interest. “So?”
    â€œBefore the war, Halder owned one of the finest private collections in Germany, most of it irreplaceable, and he was a benefactor of the Egyptian Museum. He died when the Allies destroyed Hamburg during a massive fire-bombing raid in 1943. Some time after that, his entire collection went missing. I tried to dig a little deeper, to find out if he had any living relatives, anyone who might have known what became of the collection. So I had a journalist friend in Berlin do some checking for me. There were no relatives still alive, at least none that could tell me anything worthwhile, but it turned out Halder had a son, Johann, who served during the war. The German military records stated that he died in action in 1943, on some kind of mission, but made no mention of how or where. Though my friend did discover that Halder had been recruited by the Abwehr in 1940. That’s the wartime German intelligence agency to you and me.”
    â€œI know what the Abwehr was, Carney. But go on.”
    â€œAs a boy, Johann Halder was educated in America, until his mother died tragically giving birth to her second child. After that, his father brought him back to Berlin, though apparently for many years afterwards they returned to upstate New York each summer. I visited there some years back, but the place had changed hands many years ago, the house had been demolished, and no one in the area remembered the Halders.”
    â€œI’m hardly surprised. You’re talking about a long time ago.”
    â€œJohann Halder also spoke several languages fluently, including Arabic, and attained the rank of major during the war, though he never joined the Nazi Party. The rest of his military background is pretty much a mystery, apart from a stint spent in North Africa, and there were no details of the mission he’s supposed to have died on.”
    â€œAnd what else did you learn?” Weaver said quietly.
    â€œThis is where it starts to get really interesting. I thought no more about it until recently, when I interviewed one of the former heads of the Egyptian Museum, Kemal Assan, shortly before he died. I mentioned Franz Halder in passing and Assan said he met his son, Johann, in 1939, when he took part in an archeological dig at Sakkara. In fact, he said he’d also seen him in Cairo after the war. Considering Halder was supposed to be dead, that fact seemed pretty incredible.”
    Weaver was suddenly very interested. “And what exactly did this Assan tell you?”
    â€œTen years ago, he was sitting in a Cairo coffee house minding his own business, when he noticed a man seated at the next table. Assan thought his face seemed oddly familiar. When he asked if he knew him, the man simply smiled and said in German, ‘We met long ago in another life.’ Then he got up and left. Assan spoke some German, and he was adamant the man was Johann Halder.”
    Weaver’s eyes sparked. “Didn’t he try to follow him?”
    â€œHe tried to, but he lost him in the bazaar.”
    Weaver looked deflated. “I see. So you believed Halder might be still alive?”
    â€œIt’s a mystery that’s bothered me ever since. I really didn’t know what to think—the whole thing was such a puzzle. But certainly I thought there might have been a story in it. If Halder was still alive, there was a chance he might know what had become of his father’s collection. Then I came across a mention in yesterday’s Egyptian Gazette, about the body of an elderly German recovered from the Nile. Apparently, his identity papers named him as Johann Halder, and the police were asking for anyone with information to come forward. When I heard the name I put two and two together, and hoped it might make four.”
    I looked across at Weaver, who stood there, taking it all in, but he didn’t say another word.
    â€œThe question is, what are you doing here, Colonel? The last I