Still shaking, Anna stepped out of the taxicab. “Anna,” Michael called out to her, grinning widely as he retrieved their luggage, “now you can cross off ‘surviving a Cairo taxicab ride in one piece’ from your bucket list.”
She ignored his comment and inhaled a life-affirming breath. Instead, her lungs were filled with exhaust fumes, a souvenir from their taxicab speeding away. She coughed and took in another breath, this time of the exotic smells surrounding her. As she was deciphering the mysterious smells, her ears were filled with the seemingly nonstop car horn blares and sounds of the nearby crowd. Over all of this chaos, the evening call to prayer sounded, as loud as thunder amid the clear skies.
Anna looked over at Michael only to find him heading to the hotel entrance. The hotel seemed to have been frozen in time in the late nineteenth century, providing a unique opportunity to enjoy the dusty old flavor of a bygone era. Once inside they were immediately welcomed by the hotel staff and offered complimentary drinks. A pretty lady named Ramla was stationed at an old, dark wooden receptionist desk. Speaking in excellent English, Ramla politely informed Anna that the room in which her father stayed was currently unoccupied and available to her. She sincerely offered her deepest condolences in the death of Mister Schulze who, in her words “was very friendly with the hotel staff and the center of the livelihood of the hotel.” Anna nodded her head, her eyes brimming with tears. Ramla added that the police had retrieved all of Mister Schulze’s belongings.
Michael did not require any help with carrying the luggage as it only consisted of his old faded green duffle bag and Anna’s pink suitcase, which easily rolled around on its wheels. Nevertheless, Ramla insisted, in the good memory of Anna’s father, that one of the concierges be dispatched to accompany them to their room and deliver their luggage.
The guestroom retained an ambience of faded grandeur and old world charm with its original wood furnishings combined with all the modern necessities of today’s world. Michael was pleasantly surprised to discover a plasma screen television, small refrigerator, complimentary wireless Internet connection and a modern bathroom. Anna did not notice these fine amenities until later, as the second she walked inside the room her eyes were fixated on the two queen beds. On top of each bed were bathroom towels folded in a heart shape, surrounded by fresh, colorful flower petals. After he dropped off their luggage, the concierge politely refused Michael’s tip, bowed slightly and then left, closing the door behind him.
“Wow, I can’t believe my father stayed in this very room,” Anna remarked as she walked slowly across the room. “Only a week ago he was alive and restoring the Great Pyramid.”
“Well, I’m not deeply religious, but based on my own experience, G-d always takes the good ones first.”
“He was a very good father,” said Anna as she sat on a bed. “He was the kind of dad every kid wishes to have.” She paused and took a deep breath. “And even though later in my life he betrayed my mom, he still remained a great dad.”
“That’s true. He will always be your dad. Nobody can take that away from you,” Michael replied gently.
“Thanks, Michael,” Anna said, looking up at him with a small smile.
“Oh, look at the time,” Michael groaned, pointing to the digital clock on the nightstand. “The Inspector and detective will be here in about an hour. I would like to take a quick shower and change, and then the bathroom will be all yours.”
While Michael was digging in his duffle bag for his clothes, Anna grabbed her purse and started searching through it for her hairbrush. When she dumped the contents out, her lipstick fell off the bed and rolled underneath. She sighed and crouched down on the floor to get it.
“Michael!” she called out. “Michael!”
“Yes!” Michael said, “What happened?” He walked toward her, “Are you all right?”
“My lipstick is somewhere under this bed, but I can’t find it.”
“Lipstick?” he asked. “Wow! I thought somebody was trying to kidnap you.”
Anna gave him a look.
“OK, OK,” he replied, grinning. “Move aside, please.” He crouched down and stretched his hand under the bed. In a few short seconds he had triumphantly retrieved her lipstick along with a piece of notebook paper.
“Ta da!” Michael announced as he handed the lipstick over. She reached out with her other hand and grabbed the paper from his hand. “By the way, if you are such a lipstick fanatic, then you should know that during the French Revolution wearing lipstick of any kind was taken as a sign that you sympathized with the aristocracy. It could get you sent to the guillotine.”
“Oh really? Wise ass,” she replied in dismay as she looked over the paper Michael had retrieved with the lipstick.
“Yep, and I’m proud to say that this ended the era of men wearing lipstick,” he smirked, but Anna was already too deep in her thoughts to hear.
“Hello? Are you OK?” he asked, seeing her expression.
“You are not going to believe this, but this paper was my father’s,” she finally managed to utter.
“Really?” this time it was Michael’s turn to be astonished. “Let me see it,” he asked, holding out his hand.
The paper was obviously torn from a notebook. It had a skillful sketch of a military tank that included various small details. There were some words handwritten underneath the sketch in an unfamiliar language.
“That’s my father’s handwriting,” Anna said sadly. “At least I now have something that belonged to him,” she added, as tears rolled to her eyes.
“The police probably missed it,” Michael suggested, handing it back. “I’m almost sure this tank is an American Sherman tank. But I think the last time it was used was during World War II.”
“Well, my father loved sketching. That was his passion.”
“I can tell you more about this unusual tank,” said Michael.
“Unusual?” asked Anna.
“Well, as you can clearly see on this sketch, this tank has fenders,” Michael pointed to the panel covering the tank’s tracks. “The American models didn’t use fenders, because they were easier to maintain that way. But the British forces attached fenders. So, this American tank was used by the British forces during World War II,” Michael concluded.
“Wow, Michael, you continue to surprise me.”
“OK, but what does this phrase say in German?” asked Michael, ignoring her remark. “Your father wrote it, right?”
“Yes, he wrote it, but I’m kind of lost.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, roughly translating, it means something like ‘the General scorched the earth in the village of two flags where two great battles once were won.’”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know,” Anna answered, shaking her head.
Suddenly the room phone rang loudly. Michael reached for the receiver. “Michael Doyle,” he announced into the phone. “Oh, Inspector Suliman. Yes, we are in room number five. OK, see you in a minute.” As he hung up the phone, he turned and looked at Anna, “They’re here. Hide the paper and don’t say anything about it.”
Anna nodded and rolled up the paper, putting it inside her purse. She threw the rest of her stuff back inside.
They heard a knock. Michael walked over and opened the door. “Hello, Inspector, nice to see you again,” he said, shaking the Inspector’s hand. The Inspector solemnly walked inside the room followed by his seemingly inseparable detective. “I would like to introduce you to my friend, Anna Schulze.”
“Miss Schulze,” said the Inspector, bowing slightly, “Inspector Suliman.”
“Nice to meet you Inspector.”
“I believe you already met Detective Hussein back at the airport, right?” asked the Inspector.
“Yes, sir, he saved our lives, and we’re grateful for that, but my father−�
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“Miss Schulze,” the Inspector gently interrupted her, “let me first offer my sincere apologies to Mister Doyle and specifically to you.”
Anna and Michael looked at each other in complete shock.
“Your father,” continued the Inspector “is not a thief as we initially thought when we first received this case. We now have the real thief in our custody.”
“Wonderful!” Anna exclaimed, embracing Michael joyfully. “I knew it all along!”
“I’m so relieved!” Michael said, tightly embracing Anna as tears of joy welled up in her beautiful eyes.
“Even though we suspected your father stole the ancient stele,” continued the Inspector, “during our investigation we encountered a very peculiar twist in this case. The real criminal was another German engineer working for the same company, AirCo. I’m pretty sure by now you know who that might be.”
“Fischer!” Anna exclaimed.
“Yes,” sighed the Inspector. “Fisher was the one who found the stele, which, by the way, belonged to the ancestral tribe of the ancient Egyptian Medjay warriors,” said the Inspector, pausing to look at them closely. “Have you ever heard of them?” he asked.
“No,” Michael replied immediately, looking frankly at Anna.
The Inspector looked at Anna. “What about you?” he asked.
“Never heard of them,” Anna firmly replied, shaking her head.
“Now, Fischer found the stele hidden inside the Great Pyramid and tried to sell it to smugglers. He needed the money to pay off some gambling debts. But, luckily, your father intervened and the sale never took place. At first Fisher denied all the accusations and blamed everything on your father, Miss. But then we showed him the footage taken from several surveillance cameras, which clearly showed that the real thief was Fisher himself. He begged for mercy and revealed that one night Schulze came to his hotel room in Alexandria, and they had gotten really drunk together. He blacked out, but when he woke up the following morning, the stele had vanished. He thinks that Schulze drugged him while they were drinking and took the stele. Detective, can you please tell them what we have found out so far?”
“Yes,” said Detective Hussein, “we reviewed the hotel surveillance cameras where Fischer was staying and confirmed that Schulze left the hotel at midnight carrying something heavy wrapped in a cloth. He put it in the trunk of his rental car and drove away. The next footage showed him coming back at five o’clock in the morning with nothing in his hands.”
“Well, that doesn’t prove anything,” said Michael, “he probably wanted to protect the stele from Fischer.”
“We are not excluding that option, but the stele is still missing. Unfortunately, the only person who knows its location was your father, Miss.
“Did Fischer kill my father?” asked Anna.
“Unlikely,” this time the Inspector replied.
“But he didn’t die of a heart attack, did he?” The Inspector glanced at the Detective. “Please, tell me the truth!” Anna cried.
“Miss, your father was poisoned,” the Inspector said quietly.
“I knew it!” exclaimed Michael. “He told me he’d been poisoned. I knew he hadn’t been hallucinating. So, Fischer poisoned him?”
“No,” the detective said, “Someone else.”
“Who then?” asked Anna, furrowing her brows.
The Detective and the Inspector looked at each other. “It’s still under investigation,” the Detective replied firmly.
“Now,” said the Inspector. “Do you happen to know an Egyptian by the name of Asim?”
“Inspector,” Michael stated carefully, “you and Detective Hussein are the only Egyptians we know.”
“Do you always reply for Miss Schulze as well?”
“Inspector, this is Anna’s first visit to Egypt.”
“I’m well aware of that, but I’m investigating this man’s disappearance from about three days ago …”
“Inspector,” Michael interrupted him, “three days ago we weren’t in this country. You know all too well that we just arrived in Egypt this afternoon.”
The Inspector looked angry, but continued calmly, “Three days ago the Medjay warrior Asim disappeared in Moscow, Russia. Before he traveled to Russia, he was in Berlin, Germany.” The Inspector paused and looked directly at each of them before continuing, “I know you two were in Berlin and traveled to Moscow before flying to Egypt. We have Fischer’s signed confession.” He looked at Anna, “Your mother told him your whereabouts.”
“Inspector,” Anna said calmly, although her heart was racing, “you’re absolutely right. We were in Berlin because it’s my hometown. We did travel to Russia to meet one of my old college friends, but I never met any Egyptians there.”
The Inspector turned to the detective, “Show them the photograph.” The detective opened up his briefcase and quickly retrieved a photograph.
“He’s a hard one to miss,” said the detective, displaying the photograph. They both looked studiously at the picture.
“No sir,” Michael said with an assured tone of voice.
“No,” concurred Anna.
“Very well,” said the Inspector. “Before we leave I want to let you know that the stele has not been found yet. And even though your father,” the Inspector turned to Anna, “wasn’t the one who stole it, he certainly was the one who hid it. So I’m going to ask you one last question.” He looked directly into her eyes. “Do you possess any information that could help us find the stele?”
Anna thought and shook her head. “No, I’m sorry.”
“OK, very well, we are not going to waste any more of your time, but keep in mind that you didn’t get shot today only because we intervened. Your luck could run out if you know something and don’t disclose it to us.” Anna and Michael nodded solemnly. Satisfied, the Inspector walked to the door.
Michael walked over and opened the door. “Good night, Inspector,” he said as they briskly walked out the door. “Have a good evening detective,” he added.
The Inspector reached into his shirt pocket and handed Michael a card, “Here is my contact information. If you need me, give me a call.”
Michael took the card, thanked them and shut the door. He stood there for a moment, listening. Then, he locked the door and turned back to Anna, whispering, “We’ve gotta find that stele and clear your father’s name.” He walked over and sat on the bed next to her. “First thing tomorrow morning, we’ll head over to the Great Pyramid.”
“Right,” Anna replied. “This way we can check Kirilov’s theory and maybe find a clue to where the stele is located. Maybe he put it back inside the Great Pyramid.”
“I hope you’re right. But we have to be careful; the Inspector knows about the Medjay.”
“Do you think the Inspector sent him to kill us?” asked Anna, getting the shivers.
“Doubtfully, but who knows?”
After sitting in silence for a few moments, Michael perked up, “Enough of that! Right now, I would like to invite you to the famous Barrel Bar on the next floor. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving!” Anna laughed, jumping up from the bed and walking to the bathroom. “I’ll be ready in a minute.”
Chapter 45
Windsor Hotel, Cairo, Egypt
Monday, September 25
6:48 p.m.
As Inspector Suliman and Detective Hussein stepped out of the ancient elevator and into the elegant lobby, the Inspector’s phone rang. “Inspector Suliman.”
“Hello, Inspector.”
The hoarse voice of his old friend, the Chief of the Medjay warrior tribe was impossible to confuse with anybody else’s. “Chief Jibade, glad to hear from you!”
“Inspector, I hear you had a peculiar twist in the search for our missing stele.”
Surprised, the Inspector paused. He replied, “Ye
s, the German Schulze was not the thief, and the real thief is another German by the name of Fischer.”
“That news already reached me.”
How? The Inspector wondered, saying, “Oh?”
“Did you find the stele?” asked the Chief, impatience creeping into his voice. “My people are getting a bit suspicious. It will be difficult for me to keep this from them for much longer. I hope you won’t let me down, old friend.”
The Inspector walked away from the lobby, hoping for a bit more privacy. “Chief, we’re getting closer. Give me three more days.”
“Fine. But after three days I will have no other choice but to go to the media. You will have a national scandal on your hands. In fact, this case could end up in more authoritative ones … such as Inspector Moustafa.”
“Chief, you know I need this case … please.”
“Three days,” the Chief stated sternly. “And one more thing, did you ask the American and Schulze’s daughter about the disappearance of my fearless warrior, Asim, in Moscow?”
“I showed them the picture, but they claim they didn’t know him.”
“Inspector, I thought that you had sophisticated ways of persuading people to talk,” said the Chief, chuckling quietly.
Startled, the Inspector spoke tensely, “I will not interrogate German and especially not American nationals and have an international incident on my hands in return. I told you: three days and you will get your stele back.”
“Fine.”
“And one more thing, Chief,” the Inspector’s voice became sharper, “if you sent one of your Medjay killers to follow those two, then whatever happened to him lies on you! It’s your hands that are stained with his blood. And let me remind you that here in Egypt, I’m the law. I intend to protect the lives of every foreign national who comes to visit. Tourism is our country’s main livelihood.”
“Don’t forget our deadline,” said the Chief, abruptly hanging up.
Frustrated and concerned about the Chief’s motives, the Inspector turned to Detective Hussein. “Detective Hussein, I want your men following our guests’ every move. If something comes up, I want to be personally informed immediately!”
Four Ways to Pharaoh Khufu Page 31