The Atlantis Keystone (20 page)

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Authors: Caroline Väljemark

BOOK: The Atlantis Keystone
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“What are you saying? Have you come up with some sort of theory, something which you think the tablet may have revealed to Paul? Something about Atlantis?”

“Yes, I believe so”. Laura said it with a smile. “But I won’t tell you the whole story until Erik is conscious. He deserves to hear it first.”

For a moment they both seemed to forget that they were openly walking down a street in Beirut only a day after the violent demonstrations directed specifically at Westerners had ripped apart the city. The sun was shining and the streets were bustling with life, the buildings around them were modern and plenty of contemporary shops were open for business. Emma was surprised at the number of business people walking the streets. This was a modern city; not the war-ridden bullet infested place she had seen on television during the many gruelling years of civil war. Sure, there were still many traces of violence scattered around and the signs from the day before were still in full view but for the first time Emma looked at the city with optimism. She hoped that it had a brighter future ahead. She recalled the years of pointless fighting in the nineteen seventies and eighties and the perennial return of violence thereafter. What had it really been about, she asked herself.

They decided to have some lunch in a random modern and friendly looking café. They had only just ordered when something happened outside. The bang was so loud that the windows appeared to shake and a few moments later they heard people screaming and many rushed past them in panic. An older woman was half limping, half crawling by. Her skirt had blood stains and although she didn’t appear injured herself, the limping presumably pre-existing, someone else clearly had been, and badly at that.

“Oh my god, what’s happening? That’s it, I’m getting out of here,” Laura said.

“No wait, it’s dangerous, we should stay here. It’s probably another car-bomb. It’s safer than walking around for the time being.”

“I know, I don’t dispute that. I meant I’m getting out of Beirut, as quickly as I possibly can. I simply can’t stand it anymore. I don’t fancy coming back to England in a coffin, thank you very much! I know we should wait for Erik to wake up but I’m sure he would prefer to see me alive rather than dead! This is not a good place for us Emma!”

Emma knew she was right. She knew they should follow the recommendations of the UK Government and leave Beirut, leave the risk zone, leave Erik but Emma hesitated for two reasons. She was aware that it was completely irrational but she was still half expecting Paul to come back and proclaim his innocence – and she wanted to be there if he did. She also wanted to be there for Erik when he woke up. She was his friend and he had risked his life for her…

EIGHTEEN

T
he small heart-shaped figures were dancing on his right arm, tickling him. They started to annoy him but he tolerated them as they were smiling happily at him as they were doing their routine. When they started to move towards his face, he had had enough and with a stern voice he ordered them to leave. He tried to shake them off but to Erik’s alarm he could not move his arm. At that moment he realised that he also was not able to move his legs. In fact, he could not move at all. He could hear his own pathetic scream the second he regained consciousness. It was echoing around the room, bouncing up and down the walls, hitting the numerous bystanders surrounding him.

“He is waking up”, were the first words he could hear. When he opened his eyes he was surprised to see only two vexed looking individuals next to his bed. There was light coming from the two windows on the opposite side. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness he observed Emma. A nurse adjusted something on his arm. He was lying on a bed in a fairly large room with a number of other occupied beds surrounding them, one with an old strange looking man screaming something apparently abusive in Arabic. It was immediately clear to him that they were still in Beirut. This gave him a strange feeling of relief as he saw that as a sign that he had not been unconscious for too long. The nightmare of the moments before the attack came back to him the second he glanced over at the screaming man. He was wondering what he was screaming about.

“How long have I been unconscious?” His voice was weak and sounded pitiable.

“Three days.” Emma said it so matter-of-factly he was almost insulted. He had not expected kisses but at least a hug, or a smile. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you’re alright. We’ve been worried sick”, she said smiling mildly. That was more like it he thought. She sat down on his bed.

“Where are Laura and Paul?” He had suddenly noted their absence and instantly thought the worst.

“Well, Laura flew home two days ago…” She fell silent. “There was a car bomb and…” she hesitated.

“It’s ok, I understand. And Paul?”

“Well…” She mumbled something in Arabic and signalled at the nurse to leave them. She leaned closer to him. “You were right.”

“What about?”

“About Paul, he’s wanted by the police for the Torpa break-in. The person he apparently hired to do it has finally talked.”

There was silence between them. Erik felt a mixture of satisfaction and regret. He had known Paul was up to something but he knew how much this would be hurting Emma.

“So, are you happy?” Emma asked a little sharply. “You got me. You were right. Paul was a thug after all.” She was suddenly getting upset with him. Erik found this a little annoying. It wasn’t his fault that Paul had done what he’d done!

“I’m not in some sort of competition with you Emma. Yes, I may have been right about Paul but then…” No, he wasn’t going to say it. He had considered telling her that he had only noticed Paul’s strange behaviour because he was blinded by jealousy and that he had feelings for her but he decided against it. It wasn’t the time or the place.

“Yes?”

“..But then I had a lot of spare time to sit around and watch you all on Crete.” He looked into her eyes for a few moments and her facial expression softened. Tears started forming in the corner of her green eye.

“Thank you for saving my life Erik. I must seem so ungrateful, sitting here berating you after you’ve been through so much.”

“I would willingly have thrown myself in front of those thugs to save you if I had had to.”

“Well, that’s basically what you did. If you hadn’t given me your scarf I would never have been able to walk across that square and I would probably not have been sitting here now. I would have been where you are, in a hospital bed, possibly dead.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. After that they fell silent. Emma looked into his eyes. She hesitated and then leaned over almost as if to kiss him again. At that moment her mobile, which she had finally managed to charge while at the embassy, started ringing.

“It’s probably my mum again, pestering me with requests to fly home.” She struggled to find it for what felt like an eternity to Erik’s sore head. “Hello… Oh my god, where are you? … “

▪ ▪ ▪

Emma was shocked to hear Paul’s crackly voice.

“… You have to h.. lp me! I’ve been framed. You have to f..d the person… did this to ..e! I will send you …thing in the post.”

“I will. I believe….” The phone at the other end died. Emma was confused. She knew that his behaviour had been very strange in the last couple of days but if he had been framed… it would mean that Paul may be an innocent victim. She wasn’t sure.

“What did he say? Where is he?” Erik had understood who it was.

“The line was very bad but I think I could make it all out. That he phoned from a pay-phone somewhere was obvious. His location wasn’t clear. He didn’t say where he was. He says he’s been framed and that he wants us to find the person who did it…” Emma deliberately looked at him as if to say ‘So you may not have been right about him after all!’

“You believe him? You believe that he’s innocent?” Erik asked in surprise.

“Of course I do!” she said sounding more convinced than she was. “He wants us to find the person who hired someone to break into your dear old Torpa.” The tone of her voice made Erik sure she had used the Swedish name of the house just to annoy him. “The person who indirectly caused the death of your grandmother and framed Paul, tarnishing his reputation as a respected and highly regarded professor! We need to clear his name, Erik. You need to help me!”

“And if I don’t want to? Maybe I believe it was him?”

“Well, do you? Do you think he would waste our time, asking us to look for his enemy for no reason, knowing that he did it, that there is no other perpetrator?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised….” He looked away.

Emma interrupted him and changed her tone of voice to something which she knew resembled begging. She felt in her heart that if Paul was innocent they would need to act swiftly. She had no intention of not helping Paul now – and she needed Erik on her side. “Erik, you’re my friend and I know I’ve used up all the favours I deserve from you but I need you and I would value your help in this. In fact, I could simply not do it without you. Please.”

“Why on earth does Paul think that you and I could do this? Why does he put his life in our hands? We don’t know anything about his situation. In fact, if he has known anything about this before, he has certainly done a good job keeping us in the dark about it!”

“I know Paul. He was probably just as surprised as you or I when he found out that he was wanted by the police. Conducting a break in would simply not occur to him. Maybe he doesn’t have anyone else he can trust. Or maybe he really thinks that we are best placed to solve this, given that we are the ones who know all about the background to the sad state of affairs, about the break-in, the tablet and everything else. You have to see that we are the obvious people for him to call! Who else could he call? His ageing mother? His suspicious university colleagues?”

“The police!” Erik almost shouted and a couple of people in the hospital room turned their heads.

“I’m sure he’s going to the police as well but what if they don’t believe him?” said Emma quietly. All evidence points to him. The burglar has even named him as the person who arranged the break-in. How can he argue with that without proof to the contrary?”

“I will try to help but don’t expect me to believe him until we find some counter evidence.”

“Of course, thank you Erik. You’re the best!” She gave him a quick peck on his lips and stood up. She was happier than she had been for a while. Paul may not have done it! Paul may not have had the tablet all this time! All her suspicions about his bad intentions may not have been true. Emma had to admit to herself that she still had a sliver of doubt about his sincerity but fundamentally she believed him. “Get some sleep, because we need to get you out of here as quickly as possible!”

▪ ▪ ▪

It was to take another three days for Erik to recover. After the nurse had stopped giving him drugs his head had started to hurt badly and he had had a brief slant of fever before finally starting to feel better. He was still not entirely fit but his doctor was happy to let him go. Erik knew his own body well enough to know that he was out of danger. Emma had been a great support, staying by his side. She had even managed to speak to the little man who Erik had mistaken for a mental patient due to his constant shouting which Erik could not understand. Apparently he had been asking for some more water and complaining about the poor service provided by hospital staff.

They were in a car, stuck in traffic, on their way to the airport when Emma’s phone rang again. Sure that it was Paul once again, she was surprised to hear the deep voice of a man introducing himself as Inspector Gunnar Holmqvist from the Swedish police. He had a strong Swedish accent.

“We have heard that you perhaps have been contacted by Professor Paul Simmons in the last few days. Is that correct?” Emma hesitated for a moment but decided to tell the truth.

“Yes, he called two or three days ago but I only spoke to him very briefly. He said he was innocent and that someone had framed him”. The police officer was quiet for a moment.

“Is that all he said?”

“Yes.” Emma considered whether to mention that he had asked them to find the perpetrator but decided not to.

“It is my duty to inform you that the yacht which Paul Simmons was last seen in, belonging to his friend Athos Palaikastro, has been found abandoned near the place where he was last seen, on the Spanish south coast near Cadiz. There’s no sign that there were any passengers when the boat went to the shore and according to the Spanish Authorities it appears that Mr Simmons perhaps has fallen overboard during the night. All the life vests were still onboard and there didn’t appear to be any attempt to moor the vessel. A search of the surrounding area has already been conducted and there are no signs of a body but the currents around that area can be very strong. If Mr Simmons did fall overboard the chances of his survival are slim. I’m sorry.” Emma fell silent. Her face was expressionless like a stone. She was in shock, unable to cry, unable to speak, unable to believe.

“I don’t believe you. Paul is an excellent swimmer and diver. He would not drown. He simply wouldn’t drown. You have to keep searching for him. He’s not dead and he’s innocent! He was on his way to the police. He will show up at your doorstep soon.”

“We will continue our search for him. You may well be right. We’ll keep you informed… and please contact us if you should hear from him.”

NINETEEN

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