Part 6 (1/2)

She was tall, Annja discovered as she stood up politely, no more than an inch or two shorter than Annja herself. She had that sort of lush tautness Annja a.s.sociated with French women. At close range, as Annja shook her proffered hand, finding her grip strong and cool, she could see the woman's red hair was laced with a few silver strands.

”And you must be Dr. Gendron,” Annja said. ”I'm so pleased to meet you.”

”Isabelle, please,” the woman said. ”We are not Germans, after all.”

Annja laughed as they both sat. ”Interesting you should mention Germans and t.i.tles,” she said. ”But I thought national distinctions were supposed to dissolve over time in the European Union.”

The professor made a rude noise. ”Many things are supposed supposed to happen. I understand that in America, when children put lost teeth under their pillows the tooth fairy is supposed to bring them money. Alexander, Napoleon, Hitler-aside from being destructive monsters, what had those men in common?” to happen. I understand that in America, when children put lost teeth under their pillows the tooth fairy is supposed to bring them money. Alexander, Napoleon, Hitler-aside from being destructive monsters, what had those men in common?”

”They all tried to unify Europe?” Annja guessed.

”Bon! You You do do know history. Instead of just the pretty lies that are so often told in its place. But enough of events beyond our means to affect. I'm hungry!” She picked up a menu. know history. Instead of just the pretty lies that are so often told in its place. But enough of events beyond our means to affect. I'm hungry!” She picked up a menu.

Annja sipped her coffee as the professor fished a pair of reading gla.s.ses from inside her sweater and perched them on her fine, narrow nose.

The waitress came. Both women ordered pastries. I can see why the professor does it, Annja thought, riding that bike everywhere. I'll have to run around the whole city to work off the starch overload.

Gendron crossed her legs and leaned forward when the menus had been surrendered. ”So. Giani tells me you've a question about some antique German expedition.”

”How do you know him?” Annja asked.

”Giancarlo studied under me for a time.” A slight smile flitted across her features.

Annja felt a stab of curiosity. She also felt a strong desire not to ask. It would have been intrusive, anyway.

”He must have enjoyed it,” Annja said. She felt like kicking herself. Instead she drove on. ”I actually read one of your books as a textbook my freshman year. Dynamite and Dreams: A Survey of Pre-Twentieth-Century Archaeology. Dynamite and Dreams: A Survey of Pre-Twentieth-Century Archaeology. I found it fascinating. A delightful surprise, I have to tell you.” I found it fascinating. A delightful surprise, I have to tell you.”

”I hate it when my students fall asleep on me,” Gendron said. ”I'll try not to let that make me feel old, that you read my book as a schoolgirl.”

”In college,” Annja said. ”It wasn't that long ago.”

”I'm just having you on, as the English say. When I was a student I always felt years older than my peers. Now all my students seem to be twelve, and yet my contemporaries all seem decades older than I. I appear to have become chronically unmoored. Alas, it doesn't stop age slowly taking its toll. But I refuse to let that compromise my enjoyment of life.”

”Good for you,” Annja said sincerely.

”Now, what was it you wanted to know?”

”Whatever you can tell me about Rudolf von Hoiningen and his expedition to Indochina.”

”He came of East Prussian n.o.bility reduced to genteel poverty by Bismarck's German unification. By what exact means I do not know. He appears to have burned up what remained of his inheritance to finance his 1913 expedition.”

Gendron sipped her coffee. ”Rudolf was a gay, apolitical, physical-culture buff obsessed with the mystic knowledge of the ancient Buddhists and Taoists. None of those things was particularly unusual among well-born Prussians of the day, although not so frequently in that exact combination. He was also a premier archaeological explorer of his day, very progressive in his refusal to rely upon dynamite, a staple of the time. As the t.i.tle of my textbook reminds us.”

Annja felt a chill run down her spine. The destructive everyday practices of early archaeologists struck her, as they did any well-brought-up modern archaeologist, as actively obscene. At least as abhorrent as the depredations of a modern-day tomb robber like Easy Ngwenya.

”He apparently met with great success, as his letters back to the University of Berlin attest-the few that survived the bombardments of the Second World War. But when it came time to return home, he faced a difficulty.”

”World War I?” Annja asked as the waitress delivered their pastries.

”But yes.” Gendron picked up a fork and addressed herself to a hearty slice of chocolate cake. ”Owing to British control of the Suez Ca.n.a.l, von Hoiningen was forced to travel an arduous, dangerous, circuitous land route. He had to travel up through China to the ancient Silk Road, then through Turkestan into Turkey.”

She gestured with her fork. ”Having survived all that, he loaded his specimens and journals onto a s.h.i.+p, the freighter Hentzau, Hentzau, and set sail from Istanbul. Whereupon a British submarine lurking in the Sea of Marmara promptly torpedoed it.” and set sail from Istanbul. Whereupon a British submarine lurking in the Sea of Marmara promptly torpedoed it.”

”Oh, dear,” Annja said.

”The explosion killed poor Rudolf outright. The captain, thinking fast, managed to ground his s.h.i.+p in shallow water. Von Hoiningen's a.s.sistant, Erich Dessauer, who may or may not have been his lover, recovered a few of his artifacts and journals. The a.s.sistant made his way back to Germany with as many journals and crates of artifacts as he could, intending to send for the rest later. Instead he was promptly drafted and died in the British tank attack at Cambrai in 1918. Most of what he brought home vanished in the Second World War. What survives remains in the Istanbul University collection.”

Annja winced. ”That's quite the litany of disasters,” she said.

”Almost enough to make one believe the expedition was cursed,” Gendron said. She smiled. ”But we know there are no such things as curses, yes?”

”Sure,” Annja said.

”A Turkish researcher stumbled across the bare facts of the lost von Hoiningen expedition in the middle fifties. In the seventies much of the story was pieced together by a writer for American adventure magazines. In 1997, scholars substantiated the American's account and filled in the gaps.”

She shook her handsome head and smiled sadly. ”In the modern archaeological world the doomed von Hoiningen expedition is remembered, to the minor extent it is at all, more as a cautionary tale about the dangers and disappointments of the archaeological life than for its science.”

”I'd imagine. Thank you so much,” Annja said.

Gendron sat back. Despite talking fairly steadily, she had managed to polish off her cake without chewing with her mouth open. Annja admired the feat.

”So why the interest in this most obscure of misadventures? You don't seem to have the taste for others' misfortunes,” the professor said.

”Not at all. Recently I've been given hints of important cultural relics the Germans found. Perhaps even a vast temple complex which has yet to be rediscovered.”

”A lost temple? In this day and age?” Gendron seemed bemused. But she shrugged. ”Still, I read every now and again of such things being found around the world with the help of satellites and aircraft.”

”It's a tantalizing possibility,” Annja said. ”Whether or not it's more than that-well, that's what I'd like to find out.”

”To be sure. What archaeologist worth her whip and revolver wouldn't want to be the one to discover a grand new lost temple?”

Annja laughed out loud at the Raiders of the Lost Ark Raiders of the Lost Ark reference. reference.

Gendron's own smile was brief. ”Adventures are all good and well. You seem a most competent young woman, well able to take care of yourself. I was always more the scholarly type, at home in the musty stacks of the library, rather than the adventure-seeker. Still, I learn things in this old imperial capital. Southeast Asia does not currently get as much lurid press as, say, the Mideast or Afghanistan, or even Africa, but it is a most perilously unstable place these days.”

”I'll be careful,” Annja said. ”I'm not even to Istanbul yet. I guess that's my next stop.”

”Turkey is no picnic these days, either, I fear. So much unrest.”

”But where's that not true?” Annja asked.

”Fewer and fewer places these days,” Gendron said.

”Really, Professor,” Annja said, ”I'm in your debt. If there's any way I can help you, please let me know.”