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Updated: May 11, 2025
The boy grabbed his throat in one hand and fended off crushing blows with the other. He was concentrating so hard on holding his grip that a newcomer who ran into the control room had to yell. "Get up, I said. All of you!" A heavy foot crashed down on the Sten gun and held it. Rick looked up, dazed with effort, into the cold face of Kemel Moustafa.
For instance, Fuad Moustafa had written a polite letter claiming the cat, but strictly impolite and violent efforts had been made to get it. And where were the brothers Moustafa? Hassan drew to a stop before the great pyramid of Khufu. "We here. Want to go in?" "In a while," Rick answered. "We'll take a look around outside, first."
The police officer finished his coffee and rose. "Not yet," he said. "But he will be. Now, stay together at all times. Ride with the taxi driver who will be waiting for you in the hall. Otherwise, go about your business as usual, and have a good time." Scotty saw him to the door, then turned to Rick. "Moustafa isn't guilty of anything yet, but he will be. That's interesting."
I hope to show my appreciation when you return, and I shall certainly want to hear all about this. But for now, trust Kemel. He is my friend and associate." Rick promised to do so, said good-by, and hung up. He turned to Moustafa and Scotty. "Mr. Bartouki agrees. We turn the cat over." Kemel stroked his mustache. "Yes. But first, I must know of these attacks.
There were two possibilities: Moustafa and Youssef. So far as Third Brother knew, the cat was to be delivered to him at the hotel that night. On the other hand, Youssef's men had searched them in front of the museum, and later Rick had handed Youssef a kitten. The thief must have found out that the kitten was a fake. Scotty picked up the room telephone and called the project.
He will wait." "Thank you. Now, can you tell me anything about a Mr. Fuad Moustafa? Do you know him?" "Indeed, sir. He is a lawyer, from a well-known family. He has two brothers who are also well known. One is Ali, who has a shop in El Mouski, and the other is Kemel, who is a textile importer." Rick thanked him and hung up. "It's our boy," he said. He repeated what the clerk had told him.
Rick could see that revolutions cost plenty, and he began to see the importance of the Egyptian cat. In the little plastic statue, in some form, were the finances of the revolt! "The money for the Moustafa revolution was to come from America," Ben continued. "Bartouki needed a messenger, so he waited until one came along. That was you."
"It wasn't such a lame excuse, Mr. Moustafa," Rick corrected. "Mr. Bartouki asked us to deliver the cat to Ali Moustafa. We have no instructions to deliver it to anyone else." "I see. And I commend your discretion. But my brother Ali will not return for many weeks, and you will not want to take the cat back to America with you.
The brother of Ali and Fuad! Rick remembered the words of the hotel intruder who had taken the first kitten: The Moustafas were known for the largest mustaches and noses in the United Arab Republic. Well, the description fitted. "I'm Rick Brant," he said. "This is Don Scott, and our guide, Hassan." Kemel Moustafa shook hands all around. "I am thirsty," he announced.
The only thing I can do is talk to some people I know who may have more clues to Youssef'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 the Egyptian Museum," 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.
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