Violet and the Mummy Mystery

by Harriet Whitehorn

  It was the middle of Violet’s week in Egypt – she had been there for three days and had three days left. They had been to the pyramids and to the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities and they had spent a day sightseeing in Cairo with Agnes’s father, Akhil. And that evening, after tea with Professor Fitzherbert, they were to take the overnight train to Luxor to visit the Valley of the Kings, where Tutankhamun and many of the other pharaohs were buried. Violet had loved it all so much that she had almost succeeded in forgetting about the lost mummy.

  ‘Aha!’ said Grand-mère with the satisfaction of a hunter who has spotted its prey. ‘A tailor. Now that is what I really need. I’m feeling so guilty for leaving Alphonse that I must order him some new little outfits.’ Alphonse was Grand-mère’s incredibly spoilt French bulldog who had stayed at home in the south of France with a pet sitter.

  Agnes knew how long this might take and she wanted to show Violet a shop full of skulls and other spooky, fake Ancient Egyptian artefacts nearby, so she asked Grand-mère if they could go off on their own.

  ‘Very well,’ Grand-mère agreed. ‘But only for ten minutes and you must be careful. Meet me back here. I will be very cross if you are late,’ she said, waving her walking stick for emphasis.

  Violet and Agnes were weaving their way down a narrow passage near the tailor’s shop when a young European man pushed past them. He looked very familiar to Violet, but she couldn’t quite place him. And then she realised in a flash that it was Alf.

  ‘Hello,’ she greeted him in a friendly voice. He looked at her blankly and walked briskly on.

  ‘Am I going mad?’ Violet asked Agnes. ‘Wasn’t that Alf?’

  ‘It looked just like him, but he didn’t seem to remember us at all,’ Agnes replied.

  ‘I know!’ cried Violet. ‘It must have been Ralph. He’s never met us so he wouldn’t recognise us.’

  ‘Of course,’ Agnes agreed. ‘But what’s he doing here?’

  Violet was puzzled too. ‘Wasn’t he supposed to be on a dig in South America with his brother?’ she said.

  ‘Come on, let’s follow him and find out,’ Agnes said, grabbing Violet’s hand and dragging her in the direction that Ralph had been walking. Unfortunately, they soon lost him in the crowds and they were about to give up when they glimpsed him coming out of a shop.

  ‘There he is!’ Agnes said.

  But when they reached the spot he was gone. They were by the entrance to the souk and they looked out into the square beyond.

  ‘I can’t see him,’ Violet said, irritated.

  At that moment, the shopkeeper came out of his shop, a letter in his hand.

  Agnes began to speak to him in Arabic. Because she had grown up in Cairo, clever Agnes could speak Arabic fluently, as well as French and English.

  ‘Do you know the young man who just left here?’ he answered Agnes in English.

  ‘Oh yes, he’s our cousin. We’re on holiday with him,’ Agnes lied swiftly.

  ‘That is so fortunate. Please will you give him this letter? He must have dropped it in the shop by mistake.’

  The girls looked at the envelope. It was just addressed to ‘Dad’. That’s strange, Violet thought. They told PC Green their father was dead.

  ‘Oh yes, of course, the letter must be for my uncle,’ she replied.

  ‘I thought their father was dead?’ Agnes said, as they hurried back to Grand-mère.

  ‘I know,’ Violet said. ‘It’s all very suspicious.’ And she slipped the letter into her pocket.

  ‘I think we should have a look at the letter, just in case it’s anything to do with the mummy theft,’ Violet whispered to Agnes when they got home.

  ‘I agree,’ Agnes said. ‘It’s very strange that Ralph is here.’

  ‘Art taught me a trick to open an envelope without tearing the paper,’ Violet said. ‘Grand-mère, would you like a cup of coffee?’

  ‘Thank you, darling. I must say I am exhausted after all that shopping.’

  ‘Sit down in the living room and we’ll bring it to you,’ Violet said, beckoning to Agnes as she went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Steam started pouring out of its spout, and Violet held the envelope over it for a minute or so. Then she carefully peeled it open and pulled the letter out.

  ‘That’s so cool,’ Agnes said, impressed. ‘What does it say?’

  DEAR DAD,

  WELCOME TO CAIRO! I HAVE JUST RETURNED TO THE CITY TO PICK UP SOME MORE EQUIPMENT. THE EXCAVATION IS GOING BRILLIANTLY AND I WILL MEET YOU THERE TOMORROW AS PLANNED. ALF HOPES THAT WE WILL BE ABLE TO BREAK THROUGH VERY SOON –

  TO THE WORLD!

  LOVE, RALPH

  ‘Dear Dad?!’ Violet repeated.

  ‘I wonder what they’re excavating?’ Agnes said.

  Both girls paused and looked at each other.

  ‘Do you think it was them all along?’ Violet said. ‘Maybe they stole the mummy, translated the hieroglyphs and have found the whereabouts of Nefertiti.’

  ‘Well, it is possible,’ Agnes said cautiously. ‘But it’s more likely that they’re excavating something else.’

  ‘Or helping someone else,’ Violet said thoughtfully. ‘It’s very strange. Maybe Professor Fitzherbert will know what’s going on.’

  ‘Mama has a dictionary of hieroglyphs in her study,’ Agnes said. ‘We could try and translate the ones in the letter in case they’re a clue.’

  ‘Girls, is my coffee ready?’ Grand-mère called from the living room. ‘And don’t forget you need to pack for our trip to the Valley of the Kings. We have to leave for tea with Professor Fitzherbert at Hotel Cairo in an hour and we’ll go straight on from there to the station.’ She paused before adding, ‘Oh, and Agnes, make sure that Mr Ratty is safely in the Ratbag and cannot escape. I do not want him gallivanting around Professor Fitzherbert’s hotel.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Agnes replied.

  ‘Your coffee will just be a moment, Grand-mère,’ Violet said, before turning to Agnes. ‘You go and get started in the study.’

  Violet joined Agnes in Matilde’s study. She was poring over the dictionary.

  ‘I think that those first symbols might mean welcome, but then I am struggling a bit. You see those five balls with crosses on the top? They mean beauty. But I’m not sure about the others.’

  ‘Well done,’ Violet said. ‘That’s great start.’

  But it soon turned out that translating hieroglyphs wasn’t very easy and half an hour later, when Grand-mère once more hurried them to pack their cases, the girls had barely got any further.

  Professor Fitzherbert was sitting at a table in the Hotel Cairo’s beautiful terraced gardens, surrounded by a magnificent tea.

  ‘Hello, girls, how lovely to see you!’ he said. ‘And you must be Madame Remy!’

  ‘It’s nice to meet you,’ Grand-mère said, shaking his hand. ‘I’m sorry Matilde was too busy at work to come.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I quite understand,’ Professor Fitzherbert replied. ‘Now, please, all of you, come and sit down.’

  There was a lot of pouring of tea and passing of plates and cake and scones and all sorts of deliciousness, until everyone had what they wanted. Finally, Violet wasn’t able to contain herself any longer.

  ‘The strangest thing happened this morning. We saw Ralph in the souk,’ she said.

  ‘Ralph from the museum?’ Professor Fitzherbert asked, looking surprised.

  The girls nodded.

  ‘How extraordinary!’ exclaimed the Professor. ‘I wonder what he’s doing here?’

  ‘Apparently, excavating something with Alf and their father,’ Violet replied, and handed Professor Fitzherbert the letter. ‘I thought their father was dead.’

  ‘So did I,’ he said, reading the letter. ‘But I’m sure that there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.’

  ‘Could Professor Petit be their father?’ Violet asked. ‘Perhaps he lied and he’s not lecturing in Switzerland at all, but here excavating something.’

  ‘G
osh, you are the little detective, Violet, aren’t you?’ Professor Fitzherbert said. ‘It’s most likely that they got a last-minute job on one of the excavations near the pyramids. Maybe “Dad” is a nickname for someone? Anyway, I don’t think that you should spoil your holiday worrying about it any more. Now, help yourselves to some more of this enormous tea.’ And he folded the letter and put it in his pocket.

  ‘Oh, may I have the letter back, please?’ Agnes said. ‘I’m still trying to translate the hieroglyphics in it.’

  ‘I shouldn’t bother if I were you. Come now, have one of these delicious cakes,’ he said, offering her a plate of chocolate eclairs.

  He doesn’t want us to have the letter, Violet thought to herself. I wonder why?

  ‘No, really, please may we have the letter back?’ she said, looking carefully at the Professor.

  He hesitated and Violet saw a flash of annoyance pass over his face.

  ‘Of course,’ he said, and handed it back to Agnes. ‘Now, I don’t wish to hurry you, but shouldn’t you be leaving to catch your train?’

  The train from Cairo to Luxor was an old-fashioned steam train and Grand-mère was in heaven.

  ‘Just like when I was a girl,’ she sighed, as the guard showed them to their compartment.

  ‘Dinner will be served in the restaurant car at seven, madam. I do hope you have a comfortable journey.’

  Later, when the train had chugged out of the station and the sun was setting in the rosy sky, they all changed into smarter clothes and made their way to the restaurant car. It was a whole carriage full of tables with seats on either side and there were waiters with white coats whizzing around, carrying dishes of delicious-smelling food.

  ‘How delightful,’ said Grand-mère, as a waiter seated them.

  Grand-mère and Agnes studied the menu, while Violet looked around. At the far end of the carriage was a young man. From the back he looked very much like Ralph, but Violet wasn’t entirely sure. She whispered her suspicion to Agnes.

  ‘Looks like who?’ Grand-mère asked. ‘What are you two talking about?’

  ‘Oh, nothing!’ Violet replied. Then, in an undertone, she said to Agnes, ‘We need to get him to turn around.’

  Agnes gave her a nod, which was meant to convey, I will sort it out, and, before Violet could stop her, Agnes took Mr Ratty out of the Ratbag and put him on the floor.

  ‘Oh no, my pet rat has escaped!’ she cried, jumping to her feet, as Mr Ratty, unable to believe his luck, trundled off into the main aisle, weaving between the waiters’ feet.

  The effect was instant. Everyone started to shriek and climb on their chairs.

  ‘Did that girl say RAT?’

  ‘There it is! Over there!’

  ‘I’m so sorry! Really I am!’ Agnes cried, as she scampered after Mr Ratty, diving under tables, trying to catch him.

  Grand-mère smiled graciously, as everyone shot her evil looks, which said, I cannot believe you have let your granddaughter bring a RAT into the restaurant car.

  ‘Violet, go and help your cousin,’ she hissed.

  Mr Ratty was finally brought to a stop by an enormous piece of bread that had fallen on the floor, right by the table where the young man who looked like Ralph was sitting. He gave Agnes a horrified glance as she knelt to scoop the rat up.

  ‘Oh, Mr Ratty, you are so naughty,’ Agnes said, shoving him back in his bag.

  ‘It is Ralph,’ she whispered to Violet, as she sat down.

  ‘Well done!’ Violet whispered and, as the dining car settled down after Mr Ratty’s escape, Violet fixed her eyes on Ralph. He clearly wasn’t excavating near the pyramids because he was on a train to Luxor. What was he up to? And with whom?

  But Ralph didn’t give her any further clues. He ate his dinner and then got up and left the restaurant car.

  Grand-mère, Violet and Agnes finished their meal and made their way back to their compartment. Grand-mère gave a couple of large yawns and announced she was ready for bed. They all changed into their pyjamas, washed their faces, cleaned their teeth, got into their berths and pulled out their books. Violet was reading Pippi Longstocking, which was one of her favourites, but she was finding it hard to concentrate. In fact, there was so much to think about it was making her brain hurt. Ralph must be going to the Valley of the Kings, but what was he excavating there? Agnes didn’t think it was Nefertiti, so why all the secrecy? And why had Professor Fitzherbert wanted to keep the letter? To translate the hieroglyphs himself or because he didn’t want them to? Either way, it was suspicious behaviour. There was a thud as Grand-mère, who had fallen asleep, dropped her book, and Violet decided to try to go to sleep too. Before she did, she stuck her head down to Agnes and said, ‘We need to follow Ralph tomorrow to see where he goes. Do you think we should send Rose and Art to search Professor Fitzherbert’s house in London?’

  ‘That’s a good idea. He was very strange about the letter,’ Agnes agreed.

  ‘I’ll ring Rose in the morning from the station. I’ll tell Grand-mère that she’s competing in an important ballet competition and I want to wish her luck,’ Violet said, yawning.

  ‘Great plan and, while you do that, I’ll keep an eye on Ralph,’ Agnes replied. And, with the decision made, both girls fell asleep.

  Rose was out at her ballet class when Violet phoned, so she rang Art instead. He agreed with her that it all sounded very fishy and that he would go and take a look at Professor Fitzherbert’s house with Rose.

  Violet went back to meet Agnes and Grand-mère in the taxi queue. She spotted Ralph just a few people in front of them.

  ‘Oh, I am excited,’ said Grand-mère, peering at her guidebook on the Valley of the Kings. ‘I think we should start with the tomb of Rameses IX and then . . .’ She carried on, but the girls weren’t listening. They were busy watching Ralph.

  ‘Valley of the Kings, please,’ they heard him say to a taxi driver.

  ‘It should be easy to find him there,’ Agnes whispered to Violet. ‘We can ask one of the guides where the archaeologists are excavating and then go and see exactly what Ralph and Alf are up to.’

  The queue moved quickly and they were soon climbing into a taxi themselves.

  It was only a short ride to the Valley of the Kings and the taxi dropped them at the entrance. It was crowded with stalls selling souvenirs and ice cream, as well as with tourists and guides and . . .

  ‘Donkeys!’ Grand-mère gasped. ‘How enchanting! I haven’t ridden on one for years. We must hire some – but which ones?’ she asked, surveying the donkeys and guides with a piercing gaze, like a commander eyeing her troops. Her eyes came to rest on a boy of about Violet and Agnes’s age, who was standing with three donkeys, stroking their noses and talking to them. She strode over to him and began to negotiate, while Agnes and Violet tried to see if they could spot any signs of Ralph.

  There were none, but Agnes did notice a policeman, sitting to one side of the crowds, on a small platform. He was engrossed in a book and Agnes gave a shriek of laughter.

  ‘Look, Violet!’ she said. ‘Look what that policeman is reading!’

  Violet looked, and then giggled too as she saw the familiar cover of Solving Crime: The Green Way.

  ‘Let’s go and ask him about excavations in the Valley,’ Agnes suggested.

  As the girls approached him, the policeman barely looked up from his book. They asked about excavations, but he just grunted about there being only one up by the tomb of Rameses IX.

  He was so rude that Violet couldn’t resist being a little cheeky. ‘Thank you for your help,’ she said. ‘And, by the way, I do hope you’re enjoying that book; it was written by a friend of mine.’

  ‘What?’ The book went down and the policeman was suddenly interested. ‘You know Percival Green?’

  ‘Yes, very well,’ Violet replied.

  ‘Oh, you are so lucky,’ he sighed. ‘He is amazing. I think he is quite the equal in intelligence and skills to the great Sherlock Holmes.’

 
Violet tried her best not to smile at the comparison.

  ‘Violet! Agnes!’ Grand-mère was calling them. ‘Come here.’

  ‘I am honoured to meet two friends of the wonderful PC Green. My name is Lieutenant Khouri and, if I can be of any assistance, please let me know.’

  ‘This is Ahmed,’ Grand-mère announced to Violet and Agnes, as they walked over. ‘He is going to be our guide. And these are his donkeys. Do they have names, Ahmed?’

  ‘Yes, madam,’ Ahmed replied. ‘This is Donkey Number One – he is perfect for you.’ Number One was sweet-looking with serious eyes and fluffy ears. He sat entirely still as Grand-mère hoisted herself onto him.

  ‘Donkey Number Two is for you,’ he said to Agnes, giving her a shy smile. He held the reins of a similarly nice donkey as Agnes got on.

  ‘And Donkey Number Three is for you,’ he said matter-of-factly to Violet, handing her the reins of the crossest donkey Violet had ever seen. ‘You will have to show him who is boss.’

  Great! thought Violet. Number Three fixed her with his beady eyes and proceeded to trot away as she tried to get on him.

  Ahmed tutted. ‘You have to be tough with him.’ And he gave a sharp tug on the reins, which brought the donkey to a halt.

  ‘Thank you,’ Violet replied.

  ‘Now, please can you take us to see Rameses IX first?’ Grand-mère asked.