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Updated: May 11, 2025
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.
He wanted to deliver the cat as he had promised, but he had no intention of turning it over to the wrong man. "I have a package," he returned evenly. "I'm sorry it can't be delivered now. The man who receives it will have to identify himself without question as the proper Ali Moustafa." The man shrugged. "You came to my shop. The sign tells you who I am. There is no other Ali Moustafa.
Ana gay men sidi Moustafa." Rick was tensed to spring, to haul the man from his saddle, when Hassan put a hand on his arm. "Wait. He say greeting, he is at your service, and he come from Mr. Moustafa!" Rick watched in unbelieving amazement as the driver forced his groaning camel to kneel, then immediately commanded the other two to kneel also.
Then I shall begin. Boys, I regret to inform you that Mr. Kemel Moustafa is a member of a conspiracy to overthrow the United Arab Republic government." Rick and Scotty turned to look at the mustached man. He sat impassively. "His brothers also are in this conspiracy. He told you they were in Beirut, but he was not truthful. They are in jail, here in Cairo, awaiting trial.
Now, Scotty has given me a detailed report of your activities up to the time you left the project yesterday. Suppose we pick up from there?" "Okay. Can I order breakfast first?" "Of course. Forgive my impatience. We can talk at leisure over coffee." Rick placed the order, then launched into a recital of yesterday's events, including his night in the desert and rescue by Kemel Moustafa.
So we will telephone Mohammed Bartouki, and you will hear directly from him that I am a suitable substitute for my brother." Scotty asked bluntly, "Why is the cat so important?" Moustafa spread his hands wide. "Why not? The creature will open a new industry in Cairo. It will employ a number of people. It will make a profit for the Moustafa-Bartouki enterprises. It will please the tourists.
We took Ali Moustafa into custody, but not before a phone call reached him from New York. His chief clerk listened to this call and sold the information to Youssef. The clerk also agreed, for a share of the profits, to pretend to be Ali, and he enlisted the help of the other clerks. We know this from the clerk. He talked freely, in the hope of leniency." Ben turned to Youssef.
To Rick's astonishment the man tucked the pistol into a capacious jacket pocket, then turned and walked toward the outer entrance. Rick, Scotty, and Hassan followed. In a few moments they stood blinking in the sunlight. Their rescuer gave them a polite bow. "You are probably wondering who I am, and how I appeared so opportunely, eh? Allow me to introduce myself. I am Kemel Moustafa."
If Youssef had found it himself, it was hours ago. He wouldn't have waited to search Hassan's car, if he had ever intended to search it. An inner voice urged, "Tell him where the cat is. It's not your cat, and there's no reason to believe that Kemel Moustafa has any more right to what's inside of it than Youssef has."
"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?
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