The Egyptian Cat Mystery: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story Read online

  CHAPTER VI

  The Cat Has Kittens

  The sun blazed down on Sahara Wells. In the distance the pyramids lookedhazy, and beyond them Cairo was a thin line of green and brown along theNile. It was fairly warm in the sun, but a cool wind blew across thedesert and coats were comfortable.

  Rick and Scotty sat on a box under the antenna while Hassan squatted andwatched them. For the moment there was nothing for them to do. Thescientists were occupied with calculations, and neither boy could make acontribution to high mathematics of the kind used in radio astronomy.

  Rick was glad of the break. His mind hadn't been on the job, anyway--ithad been on the Egyptian cat. For perhaps the hundredth time he asked,"Why is the cat valuable? Why would anyone want it enough to stage thatscene at El Mouski and then ransack our room?"

  Scotty had no answers, but he had some questions of his own. "What Iwant to know is, did the hall porter just happen to step out at theright moment for the thief? Or is he in the act somehow?"

  "It really doesn't make much difference," Rick pointed out. "He mighthave been paid to take a walk, but that doesn't mean he knows anything."

  "Okay. Try this one. Where is the real Ali Moustafa?"

  "Good question. Now I'll ask one. What do we do next?"

  "You could cable Bartouki, or even phone him," Scotty replied. "You saidyou had thought about it."

  Rick hesitated. He tried to put his reluctance into words. "I just don'tthink getting in touch with Bartouki is the right thing to do. I don'tknow why. Call it a hunch."

  Scotty had a deep respect for Rick's hunches. They had a way of turningout to be right. He remembered a description of a hunch Rick had onceused and repeated it. "A hunch is only a conscious conclusion based onsubconscious data you don't know you have. Isn't that about it?"

  Rick looked at him. "What are you driving at?"

  "What data are buried in your subconscious that make you distrustBartouki?"

  "I didn't say I mistrusted him."

  Scotty shrugged. "No, but you must, if you don't think it's right tocall him."

  Rick had to admit Scotty was probably right. What basis did he have formistrusting the charming little Egyptian merchant? Certainly Bartoukihad been nice to them, so carrying the cat to Egypt had been only commoncourtesy.

  Experience had shown Rick that very often he could get ideas fromreviewing conversations. He walked away from Hassan and Scotty andstared at the construction details of the antenna. But he wasn't reallylooking. Instead, he was trying to recall the entire scene leading up tohis acceptance of the cat.

  Bartouki had explained its importance. He had said it was needed. Now,what had led Barby to offer Rick's services as a messenger? The merchanthad said that he was anxious to get it to Egypt, but that the Christmasmails were crowded. The Christmas mails ... that didn't seem like muchof a reason for not sending it by air freight. Bartouki could havedelivered it personally to Idlewild Terminal, to avoid getting it mixedup with the domestic mail....

  "I've got it!" he yelled. He hurried over and stood in front of Scottyand Hassan. "Listen, who sends mail at Christmas time?"

  Scotty's brows wrinkled. "Everyone, I guess."

  "Not everyone." Rick warmed to his idea. "There are plenty of people whowait until the last few days before Christmas, but where are they? InAmerica! Anyone overseas who sends a package home tries to get it in themail early. Wouldn't you say so?"

  "Maybe they should, but I suspect they don't. People are always waitinguntil the last moment."

  "But is the overseas airmail so crowded you wouldn't trust a parcel tothe regular mail system?"

  Scotty shook his head. "I doubt it. What are you getting at?"

  But Rick had an even better argument to bolster the case he wasdeveloping. "Christmas mail is to and from Christians, isn't it? Sure!Egypt is a Moslem country. Moslems don't send Christmas cards orpresents, and they don't get them, either. The Christians in Egypt areCoptic--anyway, they don't celebrate Christmas the same way. So whywould the airmail to Egypt be jammed?"

  Hassan spoke up. "It not so heavy. My brother is letter carrier, and heno work very hard on _Nasrani_ holiday. Nasrani is what we callChristian."

  "I think you've got something," Scotty agreed. "Bartouki could havemailed the cat, but for some reason he wanted a messenger ..."

  "... and we walked right into it," Rick finished. "Chances are that'swhy he showed us the cat in the first place."

  "Barby had the bright idea," Scotty reminded. "Bartouki wasn't the onewho suggested it."

  "He didn't have to," Rick pointed out. "If she hadn't, I'll bet he wouldhave led around to it some other way."

  Scotty held up his hands in surrender. "I'll buy it. Bartouki needed amessenger. Why?"

  Rick sat down on the box again. Why, indeed? He knew now why hedistrusted Bartouki, but he had no idea of the merchant's reasons. Heglared at his pal. "Kill-joy. So we get back to the basic question. Whatdoes kitty have that people want?"

  He took the statue from his pocket and examined it closely, as he haddone several times before. The bright sunlight disclosed nothing but aperfect bit of casting. He took out the pocket lens he carried forexamination of specimens that might be useful in his hobby ofmicroscopy, but magnification showed him nothing. It was a flawless job.

  "I'm stumped," he admitted. "Come on. Let's stretch our legs before weget called back in to go to work."

  Scotty and Hassan joined him as he walked toward the barracks wherecement was being poured to form the floor. Scotty borrowed the cat for aquick look, then handed it back. Rick stowed it in his pocket.

  "Whatever kitty's got, it's pretty interesting to some people," Scottycommented. "Otherwise, why go to all the trouble of trying to get it inthe bazaar, then taking the risk of searching our room?"

  Rick said what had been on his mind. "I have another happy thought foryou. If they really want the cat, they'll try again."

  "Whoever 'they' are," Scotty agreed. "Let me add a cheery note of my ownwhile we're at it. They won't have to get the best detectives in theworld to figure out that you've got the creature, either. If it isn't inthe hotel room, it's on you."

  Rick mulled that one over as they watched the workmen smoothing thepoured concrete in the form. Would it be better if he disposed of thecat? But how could he? He couldn't leave it at the project, even thoughit was locked at night. The lock wouldn't stop professional thieves. Hecouldn't give the cat to one of the scientists, because that wouldexpose them to the thieves, too. He could have it put in the hotelvault, but what assurance had he that it would be safe there? Itoccurred to him that he would have entrusted his valuables to the hotelvault with no hesitation, but the cat was different, somehow. He justdidn't want it out of his hands until he knew more about it.

  Hassan said idly, "Cement color like cat."

  Rick's thoughts snapped back to the scene before him. The dragoman wasright. The concrete mix had been colored to imitate sandstone,apparently a part of the plan to make the architecture as Egyptian aspossible. There was enough of the mix in the form to make a thousandcats, and more was being mixed in a portable cement mixer.

  The Great Idea took shape in his mind, and suddenly he laughed outright."Kittens!" he exclaimed. "Wouldn't that throw them for a loop? I mean,if several Egyptian cats showed up."

  Scotty laughed with him. "It definitely would. We'll show 'em that itdoesn't pay to confuse us. Only how do we do it?"

  Rick pointed to the office building where the plasterers were still atwork. "Make a plaster cast, then use the concrete mix for the models.How about it?"

  "Could work," Scotty said quickly. "Come on."

  They rummaged around through the construction debris and found a pair ofsmall wooden boxes that had held instruments. With Hassan asinterpreter, Rick talked to the construction foreman and a plasterer wasdetailed to help. If the form could be prepared right away, the lowdesert humidity would harden it enough to use by the time they werethrough work.

  The wo
oden boxes were filled with soft plaster while Rick coated theEgyptian cat with oil used to lubricate the antenna bearings. The catwas pushed into one box until only half of it showed. The plasterersmoothed the surface around the cat.

  A sheet of scrap metal was used as a lid for the second box of plaster.Working quickly, the plasterer turned it upside down and held it inposition while Scotty slipped the metal out of the way. The plastererpushed it down on the cat, losing only a little plaster in the process.The little statue was now firmly embedded in plaster.

  By the time the boys were summoned to the control room again, theplaster was firm enough so the plasterer could run a thin wire betweenthe two boxes to start the process of separation. When the plaster was alittle harder, he would use the wire and a long knife to separate thetwo halves completely.

  The boys went to work, checking various elements under Winston'sdirection. They kept at it until late afternoon. The sun was slantingdown behind the pyramids when they were told to knock off for the day.

  They hurried to the plaster mold at once. Hassan was already there,waiting, with the plasterer. The Sudanese guide pointed to a batch ofconcrete in a wooden tub. "We mix, more dry than for the floor, soeasier to make cats. Now we start?"

  "Any time," Rick said. "Thanks, Hassan." The resourceful dragoman hadrealized the concrete mix being used for the floor was too liquid foreasy handling and had prepared a drier batch.

  The plasterer went to work at once. He worked rapidly but skillfully,using the wire and knife to cut through the plaster until he reached thecat. Rick worried that he might cut or scratch the original, but theEgyptian was deft. In a few moments he lifted the upper box and the catcame to light, still gleaming from its coating of oil. Rick lifted itout of its plaster bed. The two boxes now contained perfect halfimpressions.

  The boys, Hassan, and the workman shook hands all around. It was a jobwell done. The rest was easy. Rick oiled the form while the plastererput the new concrete mix through a screen to remove lumps, then the twohalves were filled slightly overfull and put together. Pressure wasapplied simply by standing on the upper box.

  The workman lifted the upper box off with great care, disclosing aperfect half-cat in fresh concrete. The dry mixture kept its shape, butmade great care necessary. The Egyptian workman held out both hands andHassan turned the bottom box over. Working gently, the plastererreleased the casting from the mold. It dropped into his hands. The boyswatched eagerly as he used his knife to trim the flashing from the catreplica, then he wet his fingers from a bucket and smoothed out a fewrough spots. The man grinned with pleasure, and the boys grinned back.

  "Perfect," Scotty said.

  Rick added, "If I didn't know its mother personally, I'd think this wasit."

  The first kitten was put gently aside to dry while others were cast. Thenext two castings broke, but three perfect kittens resulted from sixtries.

  Rick was satisfied. "By tomorrow they'll be hard," he said with a grin."Then we'll work out a cat distribution program. I may go back to ElMouski and hand one to the phony Ali Moustafa, just to see whathappens."

  "Not while I'm healthy enough to stop you," Scotty said positively. Thenhe grinned, too. "But there's nothing more fun than kittens, and we'llhave plenty of laughs with these. You wait and see!"