The Curse of the Pharaoh #1 (9 page)

Dash slumped back, staring up at the blazing sun. “That’s it, then. The end of the investigation,” he said with a bitter sigh. “And the end of my brilliant detective career.”

They sat for a moment in silence.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Dash saw Agatha pick something out of the rubble. It looked like a long waxy string. Then she picked up several more.

“Did you notice these candles?” she asked. “They’ve been burned the wrong way.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“The wick is intact, but the wax has been melted away.”

Dash picked up one of the candle stubs with its long wick. “That must be some kind of Egyptian custom,” he said without interest. “They do everything backward here.”

Agatha looked at him. “What did you just say, Dash?”

“That everything’s backward in Egypt,” he repeated impatiently.

Agatha slapped her hand to her forehead, as if she were swatting a bug.

“Of course! You just answered the riddle!”

A
t that exact moment, the jeep Chandler was driving had started to swerve, buffeted by the fierce winds of a sandstorm. They were speeding away from the tiny oasis of Abu Sidan, on the far side of the towering cliffs. Chandler and the three Egyptologists had stopped at the palm grove long enough to search every inch of the solitary brick building, the tumbledown shacks, and even the well.

There was nobody there.

“The thieves must have escaped,” Dr. Dortmunder said angrily. “We’ve come all this way for nothing!”

That was exactly the point
, Chandler thought. Suppressing a private grin, he arranged his features to look disappointed. “I suggest we head back to the base camp to gather new satellite images,” he said gravely.

But on the way back, a howling wind blew out of nowhere. The sand swirled so high that it obliterated the view of the road and the mountains behind.

Suddenly Professor Maigret lurched forward. “Watch out for that boulder, detective!” he shouted.

In the backseats, Paretsky and Dortmunder instinctively covered their faces, sure they were about to smash into the boulders obstructing the road.

Instead, Chandler swerved around the obstacles like a professional race-car driver, which he’d been for a while between boxing and butler school. “Don’t worry, gentlemen,” he said in his gravelly voice. “We’ll be safe once we get to the ridge.”

Just as he predicted, the storm’s fury abated as soon as they reached the foothills, and an hour or so later, the jeep drove back through the funnel entrance between the stone cliffs and parked in front of the tent pavilion.

It was sunset, and a gentle breeze blew through the sheltered camp.

As they climbed out of the jeep, the Egyptologists were still coughing and brushing the sand from their clothes.

“Did you find the tablet?” Agatha asked eagerly. “And the thieves?”

“Mission failed,” grumbled Paretsky. “There wasn’t a living soul at the oasis.”

The other two scholars just sighed.

Agatha’s face fell. She looked every bit as disappointed as Chandler had, then turned toward him to drop a quick wink.

“The villains escaped,” Chandler said, grim-voiced. “I’m going to contact the agency for additional satellite imaging, so we can track their movements.”

“Have some dinner first,” urged Agatha. “You must all be starving, and Dash and I made an incredible pizza!”

Dr. Dortmunder looked much happier. So did the other two scholars, as soon as they caught a whiff of garlic, basil, and tomato sauce drifting out from the kitchen. All three of them hurried back to their rooms to change out of their sandblasted clothes.

The second they left, Agatha, Dash, and
Chandler went into a huddle. Agatha filled him in on their findings, and asked him where the guns were.

“They’re still in the jeep, Miss Agatha,” he replied. “Would you like me to get them?”

Just at that moment, Professor Maigret burst into the kitchen. “Get what?” he asked suspiciously.

Dash bent over the oven, pretending to check on the pizzas, while Agatha quickly thought up an excuse.

“Dessert!” she said, smiling. “We’ve prepared a surprise dessert!”

In a way, this was perfectly true.

She and Dash had spent the entire afternoon laying a trap to catch the culprit red-handed.

Maigret surveyed the fully set dinner table with a frown. “Why have you set an extra place?” he asked.

Agatha kept her voice level. “We’ve asked Mr.
Jafar to join us tonight, if it’s all right with you,” she explained.

The professor eyed her suspiciously, then said, “Fine with me.”

Agatha exhaled in relief and went to help Dash with the pizza cutter. Paretsky and Dortmunder sat down, and then Jafar arrived. Looking tense, he perched on the edge of his folding chair.

“Buon appetito!”
said Agatha cheerfully as Dash passed out slices of pizza. But instead of eating her own, she furtively observed the behavior of her fellow diners. Professor Maigret cut his into neat triangles with a knife and fork. Dr. Paretsky frowned, scraping off the top layer of cheese. Dr. Dortmunder folded his slice in half so he could eat twice as fast, while Jafar barely nibbled the edges, careful to keep the sauce out of his beard.

Dash and Chandler ate their slices the usual way, but they both looked a little bit nervous.

When all four suspects had finished their meal, Agatha stood up.

The moment of truth had arrived.

“Ahem,” she said, clearing her throat.

“Something wrong?” Dr. Dortmunder asked kindly as he loosened his belt. “Bit of pizza crust down the wrong pipe?”

“Dear sirs,” she began, “I must tell you exactly what happened on the fateful night that the tablet was stolen.”

Maigret almost knocked over his glass of Bordeaux. “Now the children are playing detective?” he sneered.

Agatha paused momentarily, glancing at Chandler and Dash, who both nodded that she should go on.

“Our story begins in the afternoon three days ago, when the tablet was brought to the laboratory for cleaning,” she stated. “While Dr. Paretsky began to translate the inscription,
rumors spread through the camp that the strange hieroglyphs were backward. Some of the workers were frightened, and started to whisper about the pharaoh’s curse.”

“By Anubis, how could you know about that?” interrupted Jafar, looking terrified.

Agatha ignored him, pressing on with her speech. “That evening, two of them went to their tent and found a note that filled them with terror,” she continued, her confidence growing. “Before evil could strike them, they fled from the camp, climbing over the cliffs to avoid getting caught at the checkpoint.”

“That’s ridiculous!” snorted Dr. Paretsky, enraged. “Those two men robbed us!”

Agatha shook her head, holding up the incriminating note. “My dear sirs, this message was left in their tent by one of the four of you!”

The scholars jumped out of their chairs, eyeing each other warily.

“How can you be so sure?” Dortmunder demanded.

“Somebody wanted to make them look guilty, dear doctor,” Agatha replied calmly. “Now let’s jump forward. Late that night, worn out from a long day at work, you all retired to your rooms. One of you, however, did not go to sleep. He waited until the camp was quiet, then collected the tools for his sinister plan.” She turned toward Maigret. “For security, he took a gun with him.”

“What gun are you talking about?” exclaimed the elderly Egyptologist.

“Perhaps your own Luger, Professor?” replied Agatha. “But that’s not the point,” she continued. “The mysterious man crept down to the quarry, to the mound of discarded stones. The perfect place to ensure that no one would ever find the tablet.”

She paused for a breath, her eyes narrowing.
“The man took out the candles he’d brought with him, melting the wax. He poured the hot liquid into the crevices formed by the hieroglyphs, creating a cast of the tablet. Now the inscriptions were reversed, making it easier to decipher…”

“That’s insane!” cried Maigret. “You could do the same thing with a computer or even a mirror!”

“That’s exactly the point, Professor,” Agatha said with an angelic smile. “The mysterious man wanted to erase those inscriptions forever so no one could do the same thing. In fact, as soon as the wax cooled, he pounded the tablet to dust. Then he hid the copy in the one place where he could preserve it, a place where the wax wouldn’t melt. It’s very hot here in Egypt, you know…”

Just then, Dr. Dortmunder sprang to his feet and drew the Luger from his belt. Evidently he’d taken it from Maigret’s nightstand before coming
into the kitchen. “Stay where you are,” he ordered, backing in small steps toward the freezer. “I don’t know how you managed to uncover my secret, but now we’ll have to do things the hard way!”

“Dortmunder?!” Maigret was stunned. “Is what she said true?”

“Of course, Professor. Do you think I’m an idiot?” Dortmunder snarled. “I know the way these things go. You’re the team leader. As soon as you locate the pharaoh’s tomb, you would take all the credit for the discovery and no one would even remember my name. Or yours, Paretsky, you spineless fool!”

Chandler was grinding his teeth, ready to throw one of his knockout punches. Agatha placed a hand on his arm, as Dortmunder pointed the gun at him. “Not one step closer,” he threatened.

Dash trembled in shock. None of this had been part of their plan. The situation was spiraling out of control.

Agatha took a deep breath. “Calm down, Dr. Dortmunder,” she said firmly. “Take the cast out of the freezer and leave in the jeep. I promise, nobody will follow you!”

Dash broke out in a cold sweat.

What was his cousin saying? Had she lost her mind?

“I accept your offer, Miss Nosy.” Dortmunder’s chuckle had a nasty edge. “Everyone against the wall! Shut up and stand still!”

He pulled a rope from a shelf and flung it at Dash. “Tie yourselves together, nice and tight!” He raised the Luger.

The others obeyed. Dortmunder took a step backward, slowly opening the freezer door.

Chandler shifted his weight.

“Don’t try any tricks!” the scientist threatened them, nervously waving the gun.

Without taking his eyes off his prisoners, Dortmunder reached one hand into the freezer, unpacking box after box of ice cream. Finally he got to the bottom, where he had hidden the wax cast.

“Ouch!” he cried suddenly. “What just pricked me?”

He grimaced in pain, then froze in place, eyes wide open and gun pointed, paralyzed by the
petrificus
toxin.

Freeing her wrists from the rope, Agatha
brought it over to tie up the culprit. “Your turn to shut up and stand still!” she said cheerfully, pinching his motionless cheek.

“What happened to him?” exclaimed an incredulous Professor Maigret. “It looks as if he’s been mummified!”

Dr. Paretsky slumped into a faint, and Jafar started to pray in a tremulous voice.

Dash and Chandler ran to Agatha, elated. Without her brilliant idea, they would never have gotten through this alive.

Agatha grinned at Dash. “You see, Agent DM14?” she said with a twinkle. “We solved the riddle of the pharaoh!”