The Egyptian Cat Mystery Page 9

  Scotty could, and did. He gave complete details of dress and appearance.

  The Egyptian shook his head. “I’m afraid the descriptions mean nothing. They did not harm you?”

  “They could have,” Rick stated. “But they only searched us. We didn’t have the cat with us, and it took only seconds for them to find out.”

  Moustafa’s brows creased. “I can make no sense of this. Why would anyone want the cat?”

  Rick and Scotty laughed mirthlessly. “That’s exactly the same question we asked ourselves a thousand times,” Rick said.

  “And you made copies of concrete? That was extremely clever of you. I believe you gave one to a man who showed up here?”

  Rick described the encounter, and he gave a detailed description of the man. Before he was through, Moustafa was nodding his head.

  “I recognize this man! From your description, it can only be one Youssef. He is a well-known thief, and the leader of a gang. My brother Fuad was once requested to defend him, and refused. Another lawyer withless scruples took the case and got him off.”

  “But why would a thief want the cat?” Scotty asked.

  Moustafa shook his head. “I do not know.Unless he intends to sell the model to a manufacturer, or to produce cats for sale himself. Or, if he knows how much time, money, and planning we have invested in this cat, he may see it as a means of revenge on the Moustafas because Fuad would not take his case.”

  The answer was logical enough, but it didn’t ring true to Rick. At least the revenge part didn’t. What had Youssef said? “I have no sentimental attachment to this object. I merely want it.” A motive of revenge would be emotional, even if not exactly sentimental.

  “Why do you carry a pistol?” Rick asked suddenly.

  It took Moustafa a moment to reply. “I have enemies,” he explained. “I will not bore you with an explanation of why this is, but the reasons are not related to this cat.”

  “How did you know the cat in the pyramid was not the right one?” Scotty demanded.

  Moustafa studied the boy for a long moment before he replied. He shrugged. “I have been a contractor. I know concrete. The cat you brought is of plastic, which does not break. Or, if it does, it breaks differently. From your questions, I see you still harbor suspicions. Was not Bartouki’s word enough?”

  “It was,” Rick said. “Only we’d like to know about these attacks. Who were the men, and why did they want the cat?”

  “Then my explanation does not seem sufficient. I am truly sorry, because we are in your debt. But I cannot tell you more, because I know no more. The only thing I can do is talk to some people I know who may have more clues toYoussef’s behavior.”

  Moustafa’s attitude changed subtly. “Now, where is the cat?”

  Rick was suddenly glad he didn’t have it at hand. “It’s in theEgyptianMuseum ,” he said.

  Moustafa exploded. “What!”

  “That’s right,” Scotty added coolly. “We saw the men trailing us, so Rick hid the cat in the museum. If he hadn’t, the thieves would have it now.”

  Moustafa sank down into a chair, a hand to his forehead. “But this is terrible! We can never recover it! Surely by now the museum curator has it.”

  Rick shook his head. “I don’t think so. And I’m sure we can recover it.”

  “But how?Guards swarm everywhere. They are alert, because there was a big robbery not long ago. Everyone is watched. Everyone, I don’t understand even how you could hide it without being seen.”

  “We have our own methods/’ Rick assured him. “And we’ll get the cat back. If you will come here tomorrow night it will be waiting for you.”

  Moustafa rose and walked to the door. He looked at the boys, and above the luxuriant mustache, dark eyes blazed at them. “It had better be,” he said flatly. “If you are caught by the museum guards you had better say it was a joke. As Americans, you may be

  believed. Do not connect me, or my brothers, or Bartouki with this thing! But get that cat! I don’t care how. But get it!”

  He slammed the door behind him.

  Rick looked at Scotty. “Get it, or else?”

  “Or else,” Scotty confirmed. “He didn’t say it, but he meant it.”

  Rick put his thoughts into words. “No one gets that excited over a plastic model. The cat is important for some other reason.But what?”

  “I’ll ask a different question for a change. Who would you rather have on your trail, Moustafa or Youssef?”

  Rick stared at his pal for a long moment while he digested the implications of the question. “I see what you mean,” he said finally. “There are two groups after the cat.Right? I’ve wondered about that myself, since we were rescued by Kernel this morning. So we’re caught between a pair of tough characters, like eggs in the jaws of a vise.”

  Scotty finished grimly, “And right now the jaws are closing.Fast.”

  A thought struck Rick and he grinned. “How about scrambled eggs for New Year’s Eve dinner?”

  “What?”

  “It’s New Year’s Eve.”

  Scotty reached in his pocket and found a pocket calendar. He consulted it. “Hey, you’re not kidding!”

  “Nope.So, as the year closes, where are we?Caught between Kernel and Youssef.”

  “Maybe next year will bring better things,” Scotty said with a grin.

  “Uhuh.But for whom?”

  “That,” Scotty said, “remains to be seen!”

  CHAPTER XIII

  The Space Mystery

  There was an air of excitement at the project when the boys arrived there the following morning. Everyone was busy on equipment, or studying Sanborn tracings. Winston and Kerama were working a slide rule while Farid read figures.

  The boys waited until Winston gave a number, which Kerama marked on the pad he carried. Then the scientist looked up and gave the boys a big grin.

  “Happy New Year both of you!Interesting news this morning.Take a look at these.”

  They were teletype sheets. Rick saw that a machine was now in one corner of the control room, where technicians had finished installing it during the night.

  He and Scotty read the messages. Translated from the cryptic notations and

  abbreviations used by the astronomers, it added up to confirmation of the Egyptian findings by bothJodrell Bank and Green Bank. Both reported that they had also located a source of apparently modulated hydrogen impulses. Both gave the same co-ordinates in space, in terms of ascension and declination, the way astronomers locate the position of heavenly bodies. Both stated that the finding was remarkable and requested all available data from Sahara Wells, and both announced their intention of concentrating on the object while it was in “view” of their radio telescopes.

  Rick looked at Winston, his eyes shining. “Boy! We’re on to something big. What’s the next step?”

  “Next is a precise fix and distance computations by all stations. At the same time, we want two kinds of recordings. We’ll continue making Sanborn tapes, but we also want audio-tape recordings.”

  “You want to actually hear this thing?” Scotty asked. This was unusual, since the radio telescopes ordinarily recorded the incoming signals in trace form on Sanborn strips.

  “We don’t want to overlook any possibility,” Dr. Kerama said. “This is without precedent, and we are not sure how to proceed. Dr. Farid has set up an amplifier on the output circuit, in parallel with the normal system, and he has brought in a pair of tape recorders we borrowed from the government radio station. It may be that listening to this

  signal will give us clues that our eyes miss when we examine the tracings.”

  Winston added, “That’s your job. I intended to keep you here together, a half day at a time. But this is too important for such considerations, and we haven’t a large enough Egyptian staff to handle everything. So I’d like to work you in shifts.”

  “That’s okay,” Rick assured him. “When do we start?”

  “The object com
es up on our horizon shortly after one. Suppose you start then. The first shift can work until five, and the second from five to eleven. One of the Egyptian technicians will take over then until we lose the source below the horizon again.”

  Hakim Farid took the boys to the tape setup he had established and explained it to them.

  It was simple enough. The output signal from the receivers was fed into a regular tape-recording circuit. The tapes themselves were on huge reels good for about four hours of recording. It would only be necessary to watch the volume control and to see that all was running smoothly. Changing tapes was only a matter of slapping a new reel into place, dropping the tape into the recording head, and threading it into the empty reel.

  “How will we work it?” Scotty asked, while they rechecked the setup and tried out the tape motors.

  Rick frowned. “It kind of throws a monkey wrench into our plan, doesn’t it?” He and Scotty had worked out a way to recover the Egyptian cat, again with Scotty distracting the guard.

  “One of us will have to get it alone,” Scotty said.

  Rick watched the tape run through and searched his mind for a method. There was only one way he could think of that would get the guard out of the way. “Looks as if that third kitten is going to have a home,” he said finally. “I’ll wrap it in an old newspaper,then pretend to find it under something. I’ll hand it to the guard. With luck, he’ll get so excited he’ll run for his boss, thinking someone has tried to steal a museum exhibit.

  Then I’ll snaffle kitty off the shelf and hike out.”

  Scotty rubbed his chin. “Could work,” he said finally. “Unless the guard insists that you go with him.”

  “No speak Arabic,” Rick said. “I won’t understand. Let’s hope the guard speaks no English.”

  “Well, if anything goes wrong, Moustafa will just have to wait. So I’ll take the first shift

  and you go get puss. That means I’ll be waiting forol ’ Kernel alone tonight at the hotel.”

  “Looks that way.”

  There seemed to be no solution except to turn the cat over. Bartouki had approved, and the cat was his. Much as the boys hated to let go of an unsolved mystery, there wasn’t any other way.

  Hassan drove Rick back into town, with the boy sitting in back. He would have preferred to be in the front seat with the dragoman, but the taxi meter took up too much room.

  The guide parked directly in front of the museum and asked, “I go with you?”

  “Not this time, Hassan. I won’t be long.” If Rick’s trick was to work, no translator should be at hand.

  He paid hispiastres at the entrance and walked into the huge entrance hall, very conscious of the kitten in his pocket. It was wrapped in a week-old copy of a newspaper recovered from the debris around the new barracks.

  When he reached the second floor he acted like a casual museum visitor, taking his time, and working from exhibit to exhibit. But his mind was not on the wonders of ancientEgypt . It wasn’t much use to think about the cat, either. All the ground had been covered many times. Instead, he spent the time speculating on the meaning of the mysterious signal from space. Admittedly, he didn’t have much knowledge of

  astrophysics or radio astronomy. But he had never heard of any natural phenomenon in space that emitted pulsed signals in random fashion. Some stars pulsed, like the Cepheid variables, but in an orderly way.

  A half hour of speculation led him nowhere so far as the space mystery was concerned, but it did bring him slowly to the museum area that interested him. He nodded politely at the guard, and continued his examination of exhibits, moving finally into the little room where the cat was hidden. Soon he was close enough to see that the Egyptian cat and its antique friend were still in place. He continued on around the room until he came to a glassed-in case that held some rare alabaster figures. Directly before the glass case was a stone jar. It was big enough to hold the kitten.

  Bjckgot ready. His coat was unbuttoned. He put a hand in the outside pocket, ready to swing the coat out so his other hand could remove the kitten from the inside game pocket with one swoop. He watched the guard, using the glass-case front as a mirror.

  The guard bent his head to light a cigarette, and Rick moved. By the time the cigarette was going well, the kitten was in the jar and Rick was looking at the figures in the case again. He waited patiently, and tried identifying the figures so he would seem to be genuinely interested.

  The figure with the stylized jackal head wasAnubis , the god of death. The hawk-headed one must beHorus . The female figure would beIsis . The one with the solar disc over his head was probablyAmon -Re. The rest he couldn’t identify at all. He wondered if one of them wasBubaste , the cat goddess. It would be appropriate.

  He drew back a little, first checking to see if the guard was watching, then he bent down and looked into the jar. He put a hand in and brought out the newspaper. He turned it over and hefted itThen he started to unwrap it.

  The guard was at his side in a flash, watching. The reddish form of the cat came into view and the guard snatched it from his hands. Rick turned to him with a look of bewilderment.

  The guard unwrapped the kitten completely and held it up,then he turned swiftly and hurried out.

  Rick was across the room in two bounds. He grabbed the Egyptian cat and tucked it into his inner pocket,then he closed his coat without buttoning it and hurried after the guard.

  The guard hadn’t gone far. Rick found him with another guard, gesticulating and waving the cat. Apparently the other guard was an officer, because he had tabs on his shoulder.

  The guard with the cat saw Rick and beckoned to him. He walked over, trying to keep his expression interested but unconcerned.

  The officer spoke English, but not well. “Hesay you get this?”

  “I see in big jar.Vase.Stone.In newspaper. Someone leave?” Rick did his best to make his reply simple enough for understanding. He apparently succeeded.

  “Think someone try steal. Bad.”

  “Very bad,” Rick agreed, straight-faced. “Hope you find. Steal from museum no good.”

  “No good,” the officer agreed.

  “Good-by,” Rick said. He held his breath waiting for the reaction.

  Both guards gave him a half-salute, the courteous gesture he had seen often inCairo . He bowed and walked toward the stairs.

  Not until he was outside did he breathe freely. The cat was a comforting weight in his pocket as he got into Hassan’s car. He wondered what the museum officials would think about the kitten. A moment’s examination by one of the archaeologists would show that it was of concrete, and new concrete at that. Maybe it would just end up at the Lost and Found desk, if they had one.

  “Let’s go back to the project, Hassan,” he directed. Scotty would want to know if he had been successful. Then he could go to the Mena House and have a late lunch while Scotty recorded signals.

  If only he didn’t have to give the Egyptian cat to Moustafa-until the mystery was solved. He grinned at his own thought. The cat was no good to him, was it? His only interest was solving the mystery. Why did so many people want it?

  He forced himself to think logically. It was old ground, but he went over it again. The cat itself could have no real value. It was plastic, and plastic is cheap. On the other hand, it was valuable as a model, as Bartouki had explained, and Moustafa had confirmed again last night.

  Rick wasn’t satisfied. A professional thief like Youssef wouldn’t be interested in a model. He would want only objects of high value.

  There was only one possibility, which Rick and Scotty had considered before, that the cat contained something more than the piece of lead Bartouki had described. But there was no seam in the cat, no sign that it was anything but a solid casting. Still, Rick reasoned, if a piece of lead could be cast into it, so could something of greater value.

  He had it! Somewhere inCairo there must be a company that used X-ray or gamma-ray photography to check large castings. It was a very co
mmon method of industrial quality control. Farid or Kerama would know of one, and he could arrange to have the cat X-rayed! It could be done immediately.

  Pleased with the idea, he paid attention to his surroundings for the first time since leaving the museum. Hassan was just rounding the corner by Sahara Wells, turning into the new spur that led to the project.

  Ahead, across the road, was a caravan of camels. Rick watched, interested. There were a

  dozencamels, and Arabs in burnooses. Some of the camels seemed to be carrying loads.

  Like a movie, Rick thought.

  Hassan slowed, tooting his horn. The group on the road paid no attention. They weren’t going to get out of the way for any old gas burner, Rick thought. Not these traditional ships of the desert.

  The car closed the gap, and one of the Arabs turned. Rick gasped. Under the desert headdressa pair of eyes were looking at the car through steel-rimmed glasses.

  Youssef!

  And Youssef wanted the cat!

  CHAPTER XIV

  The BroadSahara

  There was no way around the caravan without going into the desert, and the car was too close to turn around. They were trapped.

  Rick hurriedly took the cat from his pocket and stuffed it down behind the cushion of the car, pushing until it was well hidden. He knew he would be searched; why else would Youssef come? He hoped a search was all there was to worry about.

  Hassan leaned out of his window and shouted imprecations in Arabic, to which the Arabs paid no attention. They closed around the car, and Rick recognized two who had taken part in the attack at the museum-the Sudanese and the big Egyptian who had worn a tarboosh. He also recognized the one he hadbeaned with the kitten in the pyramid.

  He was not among friends, he thought grimly.

  Youssef opened the door. “Please get out,” he requested. “It will be easier if you co-operate.”

  Rick looked at the odds and had to agree. He got out. Hassan was right behind him, still shouting in Arabic.

  An Arab stepped up behind the guide and slugged him. Rick started to yell a protest, then a burnoose was tossed over his head and wrapped tightly around his chest, blocking out the light. He struggled, and was pushed to the ground. In a moment he was rolled over and knew they were wrapping him in a blanket or a rug.