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Updated: May 11, 2025
"The amount was two hundred thousand dollars cash." He got his effect. All four of his listeners gasped in amazement. "Even Moustafa didn't know the exact amount," Rick thought. "The money was in thousand-dollar bills. I have the serial numbers." Rick spoke up. "But, Ben, numbered bills are like a flag! No one can spend them without getting caught."
Moustafa blazed, "Hurry! Youssef's men must be loose. I count three and shoot! One, two...." "Hold it," Rick said hurriedly. "It's under the amplifier." He walked to the amplifier and bent, fumbling with the door latch. If he could shield his motions, he could grab the cat, turn, and throw. He might be lucky ... "Just hand him the cat," Scotty said quickly.
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!
Both of you are able to testify to criminal actions on the part of Youssef. Also, if this works out as I hope, you will have testimony to give on the actions of Kemel Moustafa. Now, if you knew there was evidence against you, and you were completely ruthless, what would you do?" "Remove the evidence," Rick said slowly. His eyes met Scotty's. "Exactly.
Moustafa whirled, gun lifted to shoot, and saw no one. "The building is surrounded by police officers," the voice said. "Just drop your gun." The voice came from outside the doorway, and it belonged to Ismail ben Adhem. Moustafa yelled desperately, "Don't try anything, or I shoot the Americans!" He faced the empty doorway, ready.
"Rick, this is Inspector Ismail ben Adhem of the Cairo Police." The inspector held out a brown hand. Rick sensed the strength in it, although the handshake was normal. "I'm glad you're here," the boy said frankly. "Between Youssef and Kemel Moustafa, we're sort of in a jam." The inspector smiled. "Well see if we can get you out of it. Suppose you call me Ben, just to make things easy.
A quick drive around the area told me you must be in one of the pyramids, and the biggest one seemed the most logical place to look for you." Rick believed him. Moustafa wouldn't tell a tale that a moment's talk with Winston would disprove. "Who was the man who pretended to be your brother Ali?" Scotty asked. "His chief clerk. He is an arrogant type who often shows poor judgment.
"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."
I'll bet there are ten thousand Ali Moustafas around. How do you find the right one?" Rick didn't try to answer. Instead, he asked Hassan, "Could there be another Ali Moustafa in El Mouski?" The guide shook his head. "I ask my friend when we stop. He say there is only one, and he tell me how we get there." Rick's brows furrowed. "Then that must be the shop Bartouki meant.
Rick walked in through the open door, his eyes taking in the amazing collection of stuff sold by Ali Moustafa. The store was a big one, especially compared with most in the bazaar, and there were several clerks. The walls were lined with shelves that held copperware, brassware, silver, and inlaid boxes.
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