The Cairo Code Read Online Free

thing, Colonel. And when I heard your name mentioned back at the morgue, I figured it might have been fate lending me a hand. Kismet helping us meet for a reason. This Halder business has been rattling around in my head for quite a few years, an enigma that won’t go away, and I’d like to get to the bottom of it. So if there’s any way you can help, I’d be grateful. I’m not trying to call in any family favors, Colonel, believe me. But I reckon my father was a man you could trust. I’m simply asking you to trust me.”
    Weaver was silent.
    â€œMaybe you think I’m asking too much? Two simple questions. Why you’re here, and how you knew Halder.”
    Weaver sighed—a long, hard sigh that sounded like he was trying to expel some kind of pain from deep inside him. “Yes, I knew Johann Halder,” he admitted finally. “A very long time ago.”
    â€œNow you do surprise me. I know why I’m here. But what about you? What’s your reason?”
    Weaver sat forward in the chair, his hunched frame making him appear very old, as if my persistence had finally worn him down, and there was a sad look on his face. “Oh, there are lots of reasons, Carney. Lots of them, I assure you.” He was about to say something else just then, but appeared to change his mind. “So, you thought there might be a story in all this?”
    â€œI was kind of hoping there might be. And even if not, I might at least be able to put my curiosity to rest.”
    Weaver hesitated, as if trying to decide something, then he seemed to make up his mind. “I think you could certainly say there’s a story, but I doubt it would help you discover what happened to Franz Halder’s collection. There’s a good chance it probably ended up in Russian hands after Berlin was stormed. Almost everything of value did.”
    â€œI figured that was a distinct possibility. But what about Johann Halder? It seems to me he’s the only link left in all of this mystery. What can you tell me about him?”
    Weaver was uncomfortable, as if the pain he’d tried to expel had returned. He looked around the room. “Is there a drink in this place?”
    â€œI guess not.”
    â€œDamn.” Weaver stood and moved to the window. The wind was lashing the tall palm trees along the Nile. He didn’t look back as he spoke, almost absentmindedly. “Cairo used to be quite a place during the war, did you know that? You could even say the fate of the entire world was decided here.”
    â€œReally? Care to tell me about it?”
    He didn’t answer for a moment, lost in thought as he looked out through the window. “I could give you a story, Carney. Maybe the strangest you’ve ever heard. The real question is, would you believe it?”
    â€œTry me.”
    He turned back, and his face was deathly serious. “On one condition. You don’t publish anything I tell you until after I die.”
    I was surprised. “You look like a man in remarkably good health, Colonel. That could be a long wait.”
    â€œMaybe not so long. I’m an old man, Carney, I can’t have much time left. And I kind of guess at that stage the truth of it wouldn’t hurt anyone, not with so many years passed. But you know the oddest thing? I’ve never told my story to a soul. I could have done, wanted to, many times, because it haunted me, but I kept it to myself for all these decades. And maybe the time’s come to unburden it to someone, before it’s too late.” He stared at me. “You could be right about fate, Carney. Destiny playing its part. Besides, having read your work, and if you’re anything like your father, I believe you might be an honest man, one who’ll abide by my wishes.”
    I met his stare, nodded. “You have my word.”
    Weaver glanced around the filthy room, as if suddenly uneasy in his surroundings.
    â€œYou mind if