The Quest: A Novel

mostly sunny day, but there are a few cloud shadows on these photographs, and when the sun is blocked, you won’t get reflected or refracted sunlight.”
    Mercado said, “We will pray for clear skies on our next flight.”
    Purcell replied, “Remind God that we are chosen.”
    “We are being tested.”
    “Right. But tell him clouds are not fair.”
    They continued to study the photographs.
    After half an hour, Purcell said, “I’m going blind and nuts.” He stood and retrieved the photographs that Vivian had taken in Gondar for her bogus photographic essay.
    He sat in a chair and flipped through the photos. One was an artistic shot of a palace garden with a reflecting pool, and the plants around the pool were reflected in the water of the pool, which was the idea. He thought a moment, then said, “Depending on what that church roof was made of, it might reflect what is above and around it.” He suggested, “Look for a palm frond or maybe a tree branch that has an exact mirror image.”
    Vivian looked up at him, “All right… would you like to join us?”
    “I’m just the pilot. Also, you have the only two magnifiers.”
    Vivian smiled. “I can get another one from the lab guy, but it will cost me.”
    “Go for it.”
    Vivian and Mercado continued to study the photos, then Mercado stood and said, “I need a break.”
    “I’m surprised your old eyes lasted this long.” Purcell stood and took Mercado’s place at the side of the bed, and Mercado sat and looked at Vivian’s pictures of Gondar.
    Vivian said, “I have three possible… glints. But I could be looking at ground water, or even moisture on leaves or palm fronds.”
    “That is another problem with photographs. They are two-dimensional, and depth of field can only be interpreted from what we know of the image.” He added, “This is not an exact science.”
    “Thank you, Frank.”
    “Anytime.”
    He moved a photograph to the side and noticed something on the bedspread. He looked closer and saw that it was a long, straight jet black hair, and he didn’t need the magnifier to tell whose it was.
    He looked up at Vivian, who was bent closely over the magnifier. He glanced at Mercado, who was looking at the Gondar photos. He tried to remember if Vivian had knelt at this side of the bed, but he knew she hadn’t. Not today, anyway.
    He had two choices: pick up the hair and bring it to everyone’s attention—or forget it.
    He looked again at Vivian. If he asked her what happened here, she would tell him the truth. But he already knew the truth. Or did he? It would not be unlike her to make herself comfortable on a male friend’s bed and chat away while the poor guy was trying to talk his dick down.
    On the other hand… but why would she have sex with Henry Mercado? He thought he knew, and thinking back to Henry’s changed demeanor since that morning, he could imagine what Vivian’s purpose was.
    Or was he misinterpreting all those images the way he might misinterpret a photograph?
    Vivian said excitedly, “I think I see a double image. Two palm fronds that are the mirror image of each other.” She put a circle on the photograph and flipped it to him.
    He looked at the circled image under the magnifier and said, “These are not exact doubles. These are two very similar palm fronds.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “I am sure.”
    “Damn it.”
    He said to her, “Things are not always what they seem.”
    She looked at him, then some instinct, or prior experience, made her look at where his hand was resting on the light yellow bedsheet. She looked up at him again and said, “Sometimes things
are
what they seem.”
    He nodded and went back to his magnifier and the photograph in front of him.
    At 5 P.M. , Mercado determined that there was nothing else to look at, and he suggested a cocktail in the lounge.
    They stopped at the front desk for messages, and the desk clerk gave them a hand-delivered letter-sized envelope addressed to “Mercado, Purcell, Smith,
L’Osservatore Romano
, Hilton Hotel.” The handwriting was different from the writing on the manila envelope that had contained the maps, but they had no doubt who this was from.
    Purcell carried the envelope into the lounge and they sat at a table.
    Vivian said, “He’s alive and well.”
    Purcell pointed out, “He was when he sent this.”
    “Don’t be a pessimist. Open it.”
    “We need a drink first.”
    Mercado signaled a waiter and ordered a bottle of Moët, saying to his