Page 78 of Afraid to Hope

“Why not?” Bane asked.

Amastan didn’t answer him.

“We are going to take pictures,” Natasha said, taking several with her phone. “And I promise I’ll be very careful with my examination.”

“I’d like some too.” Bane removed the lens cap and handed the camera to Natasha. “Tell us about your shop. All the way back to its beginning.” He leaned against the wall opposite the visibly shaking man and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“I have customers.”

“You do. Us. And we’re inquiring about your inventory because we’re very interested, aren’t we?”

Natasha faced Bane, tilted her head, and grinned. “We certainly are.”

“Is there anyone else in Tinghir that has this quality of inventory, Amastan?”

“No. I am the only one.”

“Tell us how you came to be the only one.”

“People have brought me very old things from Morocco and close countries for decades. A man from Casablanca visited me after the war, after my wife gave birth to our first child. We were very young. I had no money and I had debts. The man paid off my debts and helped me buy the shop—all in Moroccan dirham. I did what he asked. I had a good life.”

“World War II?”

“Yes.”

Bane whistled appreciatively. “That was a long time ago, Amastan.”

“Yes. I am an old man.”

Bane massaged the back of his neck. “What was your benefactor’s name?”

Amastanshook his head, his skin turning sickly. “No.”

“Come on, man.”

“He referred to himself as the facilitator. He said he worked for an American. But the facilitator was French and drove a very old car even though he was wealthy.”

“No other name?” Bane asked, pushing off the wall and straightening to his full six foot four.

Amastan shook his head back and forth fast.

“Why did you think he was wealthy?”

“He wore an expensive ring.” The shopkeeper pointed to his right pinkie finger. “Gold, with a large ruby.”

Natasha inhaled sharply and stopped what she was doing.

“Maybe it wasn’t,” Bane stated, testing him.

“It was. I know value.”

He looked around the storeroom and nodded. “Okay, I’ll give you that. How often did the facilitator visit you?”

“Only that time. He warned me to never speak of him or to explain my good fortune.” Amastan spoke in a hushed voice.

“What happened after the facilitator took care of your debts and shop?”

“My shop became very busy. Things like wood carvings, ebony statues, jewels, and fossils showed up. Occasionally there were taped boxes labeledHANDCRAFTED. I looked in some of them and saw ancient ax heads, pottery shards, and flint stones. Glass beads.”

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