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Updated: May 11, 2025
I know a great deal about certain interests of the Moustafa brothers, and I was informed by Interpol that there is an interesting gentleman of great wealth in San Francisco who talks too much." Rick thought over the statement. It didn't help at all. He couldn't see what a talkative man in California had to do with the Egyptian cat. "That's not very informative," he objected. Ben laughed.
Third Brother had a Luger automatic, and he looked ready to use it. The boys rolled away and got to their feet. The Sudanese got to his knees and started to get up. Moustafa struck with the Luger and the man collapsed. The pistol muzzle pointed at Rick. "You double-crossed me," Moustafa grated. "You were supposed to give me the cat an hour ago at the hotel.
"How far, Hassan?" "Two streets. Soon." The dragoman turned a corner, led them straight ahead for a few hundred steps, then turned a second corner. He pointed. Diagonally across the alley was a large store with display windows. A sign over the door carried the name ALI MOUSTAFA surrounded by Arabic script. "We'll get rid of the cat, then do some shopping," Rick said.
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.
Rick and Hassan climbed into the car and Moustafa raced the motor. He meshed gears and spun his wheels as he got off to a fast start. He's certainly in a hurry to get that cat, Rick thought. Well, he was the legitimate receiver. Only it was too bad to let the animal go without ever knowing what it contained. No matter, Rick thought, as the desert road sped underneath. No matter now.
I promised our two American guests that they would find out the secret of this little beast, and now is as good a time as any." "I can get a saw to open it with," Rick offered eagerly. Ben grinned. "Patience, Rick. First we must paint a background, so that we may see the whole picture. Where shall we begin? With Moustafa?" Kemel Moustafa maintained a sullen silence. "No co-operation?
Rick seethed inside, but he knew Scotty was right. The Egyptian cat wasn't worth his life, no matter what it contained. He opened the door and took the cat out. Then he turned slowly and held it out to Moustafa. "You're being wise," Moustafa said. His eyes gleamed. He reached for the cat. Rick handed it to him. "Drop!" a voice yelled. Rick and Scotty dove to the floor on the instant.
We picked up Ali the day before you arrived. We did not get Fuad until an hour before you visited him. The local people were nervous over the arrest. Many in that neighborhood support the Moustafas." Kemel Moustafa spoke. "I'm not in it. You can't prove that I am." Ben nodded. "Proof may be difficult. That is why you were allowed to remain at large while we collected your brothers.
Rick hoped that if they came from intelligent beings, they were of a kind that didn't get involved in gang fights. Next to him, bandages around one thigh, Youssef sat, his hands handcuffed together in his lap. Moustafa, unharmed but helpless, was handcuffed in another chair. From outside, the wail of ambulances announced that the wounded were being carried off, the police driver among them.
He may not know them by name, but he knows what they were after, and he knows why." "Which is more than we know," Scotty concluded. "For now," Rick agreed. "But we'll find out before we're through, one way or another!" Third Brother Stops Smiling Rick opened the door to a knock at precisely two minutes of seven, and admitted Kernel Moustafa. The Egyptian shook hands politely.
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