Violet and the Mummy Mystery

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Violet and the Mummy Mystery Page 5

by Harriet Whitehorn


  ‘Of course,’ Ahmed said. ‘Come on, let us go.’ He gave Donkey Number One a gentle pull and led him off. Agnes’s donkey trotted obediently behind, but Violet’s refused to move.

  ‘Oh, come on, Number Three,’ she said, gently kicking him in the sides, as she would a horse. He still wouldn’t move so she kicked him a little harder and he shot off like a rocket, nearly throwing her off.

  Ahmed laughed when he saw them. ‘That donkey has the soul of a racehorse,’ he said.

  As Lieutenant Khouri had said, next to the tomb of Rameses IX was an excavation.

  ‘Grand-mère, I think some friends of ours might be working on that dig – can we go and say hello?’ Violet asked, as they all climbed down from the donkeys.

  ‘Very well,’ Grand-mère replied. ‘Don’t be too long though. Meet me in the tomb in ten minutes.’ She went off, clutching her guidebook, while Ahmed looked after the donkeys.

  The area was shut off by a sign saying but Agnes, who had been on plenty of digs with her parents, was used to signs like that. Ignoring it, she led them forward.

  MUSEUM OF CAIRO NO ENTRY

  ‘Hi, Agnes, what are you doing here?’ a friendly voice called, and a woman appeared.

  ‘Hi, Mona,’ Agnes replied. ‘I’m just visiting the Valley with my grandmother and my cousin, Violet. This is Mona,’ she explained to Violet. ‘She’s my mum’s boss. Mona, we’re looking for two men from the British Museum – Alf or Ralph? Have you seen them?’ she asked.

  Mona shrugged. ‘I’m sorry but no – there’s only me and two of my assistants from the museum in Cairo.’

  ‘That’s strange,’ Agnes said. ‘Is there another excavation in the Valley?’

  ‘No, definitely not,’ Mona replied. ‘Sorry not to be able to help. Would you like to come and see these wall paintings that we’ve just found?’

  Agnes and Violet exchanged confused glances. Where on earth could Ralph be?

  ‘We’d love to, but we promised our grand-mère we wouldn’t be long. Perhaps if we have time later we can come back?’ Agnes said.

  ‘I don’t understand it,’ Violet said, as they made their way back to the tomb. ‘The letter said that he was returning to the excavation today and we even saw Ralph take a taxi here from the station. He must be in the Valley somewhere.’

  ‘I wish I could work out these hieroglyphs,’ Agnes said, pulling the letter out of her pocket. ‘I’m sure it’s a massive clue.’

  TO THE WORLD!

  LOVE, RALPH

  ‘Ah, there you two are,’ said Grand-mère, who was standing by the donkeys, having just finished looking round the tomb. ‘Ahmed and I were wondering where you had got to. It’s time to go and see the tomb of Tutankhamun!’

  Violet had been so excited about seeing Tutankhamun’s tomb, but now all she could think about was what Ralph and Alf were up to. She tried to shake off the feeling she was missing something as the three of them made their way down into the burial chamber. Agnes read the guidebook while Violet and Grand-mère looked at the mummy of the boy king. He had the same other-worldly expression as Matilde’s mummy, Tey.

  ‘He was only eighteen years old when he died, you know,’ said Grand-mère. ‘Some people think that he was killed in a chariot race—’

  ‘OH!’ Agnes exclaimed suddenly.

  ‘What is it?’ Grand-mère asked with alarm.

  ‘Um . . . nothing. I thought I saw a spider.’ Grand-mère tutted and turned back towards the mummy.

  ‘Look, those five symbols for beauty that we couldn’t work out,’ Agnes whispered to Violet, pointing at a picture of hieroglyphics in the guidebook. ‘They’re part of Nefertiti’s name!!’

  ‘Really? So what does letter say?’ cried Violet, as Agnes pulled it out of her pocket.

  ‘Welcome Nefertiti to the world!’

  Violet gasped. ‘So they are excavating Nefertiti’s tomb! And that means that it was Ralph and Alf who stole the mummy!’

  ‘We need to find them and stop them!’ Agnes cried.

  ‘But how when we don’t know where they’ll be excavating?’ Violet said.

  ‘The Valley is pretty small,’ Agnes replied.

  ‘We should be able to find them.’

  Before Violet had a chance to answer, the girls saw Grand-mère approaching.

  ‘Shall we tell her?’ Agnes whispered. ‘Perhaps I should ring Mama and tell her too? Or maybe I should go and tell Mona . . .’

  ‘No, or at least not yet,’ Violet decided. Everything always became slower and more complicated when grown-ups got involved.

  ‘Isn’t it just fascinating, girls?’ Grand-mère said. ‘I think we should go and see the tomb of Tuthmosis IV next.’

  They set off on their donkeys, with Number Three still behaving atrociously, but Violet was so busy looking for evidence of excavations and thinking everything through that she hardly noticed. She couldn’t believe that they hadn’t been more suspicious of Ralph and Alf back in London. They reached the next tomb and, although it was very interesting, there was no sign of any excavation.

  ‘We haven’t been to that part of the Valley yet so we should look there next,’ Agnes whispered to Violet, pointing southwards.

  ‘Grand-mère, can we go and see Amenhotep II?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course,’ Grand-mère replied. ‘I think that that will have to be the last tomb we see though – we need to get to the station in good time for the train back to Cairo this afternoon.’

  ‘Oh no!’ both girls chorused. They were so close; to go back to Cairo now with nothing solved would be unbearable. If the excavation isn’t down here, Violet said to herself, then we’ll tell Grand-mère and Mona, and maybe go and find that policeman, Lieutenant Khouri. If we explain everything to them, they’re sure to help.

  ‘Well, girls,’ Grand-mère said, ‘I’m delighted that you are so enthusiastic about sightseeing, but I’m afraid we do need to get back.’

  Ahmed led them along the path down the centre of the Valley, but Number Three soon decided to go off in another direction and this time he picked a narrow track that climbed steeply up the side of the Valley.

  ‘Number Three, you are so annoying!’ Violet cried, as Grand-mère, Ahmed and Agnes waved cheerily at her from the valley below, laughing, as they got off their donkeys and disappeared into the tomb.

  The path was much too narrow to turn the donkey around so Violet just had to sit and wait as it led her up and up. When they reached the brow of the hill, the path opened out before it dropped into the valley beyond. Violet seized her chance and, taking hold of the reins sharply, she tried to turn Number Three around. But this seemed to infuriate the donkey and he set off at a gallop down the path into the next valley.

  Violet clung on for dear life. Then the path swung sharply round the corner and Violet caught her breath.

  For there, below, was a van, a couple of tents, and the unmistakable figures of Ralph and Alf. They both jumped as the donkey thundered towards them and came to a sharp stop, sending Violet flying.

  ‘Well, well, what do we have here?’ Ralph called. ‘Dad, you’d better come and see what the donkey dragged in!’

  It was only after putting down the telephone to Violet that Art realised he didn’t have Professor Fitzherbert’s address. He rang PC Green, who spent a long time flicking through various notebooks, before announcing, ‘Nope, sorry, Art, I never took the address down.’

  ‘How else can we find out his address?’ Art asked. ‘Would Dolores have it?’

  ‘Good thinking. Hold on a minute, I’ll just go and check.’

  He returned a minute later.

  ‘Clever Dolores has it. She says she’s busy just at the moment, but why don’t we all go together later? Shall we pick you up about four? It’ll be a fun outing – I’ll bring snacks!’

  It was nearly dark by the time they found Professor Fitzherbert’s house. It was on the edge of Richmond Park, and was large and ancient-looking. Rose thought it looked more like a museum or a grand h
ouse in the country. They had hoped the house would be empty so they could have a snoop around, but as they drove towards it they saw the lights were on and a woman was drawing curtains across the huge first-floor windows.

  ‘That’s Miss Beasley!’ Rose cried.

  ‘What is she doing here?’ PC Green said.

  ‘Perhaps she’s looking after the house for the Professor while he’s away?’ Art suggested.

  ‘Hmm,’ Rose said, thinking hard. ‘We always thought Miss Beasley was involved with Professor Petit, but maybe we’ve got the wrong Professor.’

  ‘Since the theft of the mummy is your case, why don’t you go and ask Miss Beasley if you can look around the house?’ Dolores suggested to PC Green. ‘Remember to be very charming as we don’t have a warrant so she doesn’t have to let you in.’

  PC Green pulled what he thought was his most charming face, but actually just made him look peculiar.

  ‘Er, on second thoughts, just be your normal delightful self,’ Dolores said hurriedly.

  ‘Shall I come too?’ suggested Art, thinking that PC Green might be so busy sucking up to Miss Beasley that he’d forget to look for clues.

  ‘Good plan,’ Rose said quickly, thinking the same thing.

  ‘And, while she’s busy showing you two around, Rose and I will take a look at the garden, just to see if there’s anything suspicious there,’ Dolores said.

  They parked the car and, as Rose and Dolores hid behind a hedge, PC Green and Art walked along the crunchy gravel drive and rang the doorbell. After a short conversation, Miss Beasley let them into the house, shutting the door behind them, and Dolores and Rose scooted round the side of the house, into the garden.

  Professor Fitzherbert’s garden was large and spooky and full of huge bushes that loomed out of the dark. Rose went in one direction and Dolores in the other.

  At the far end of the garden, Rose found a small hill that seemed to be covered with big potholes. How strange! she thought to herself, as she walked up it and down the other side. There was a high hedge at the bottom, with a narrow gap in it, like the entrance to a maze. Curious, she walked through it, only to find the ground disappear beneath her feet. Poor Rose fell down and down, before landing with a thump on her bottom.

  ‘Ow!’ she cried, but after a quick check she found that her bottom was the only bit of her that hurt, and it was recovering fast. Where am I? she wondered, looking around.

  Rose was in a large, deep hole, hidden from the rest of the garden by the hedge. In front of her was a ladder, leading back up to ground level, and, behind her, a grand doorway. Walking towards it, Rose felt her foot touch a soft, squidgy button in the floor and a small light came on above the doorway, illuminating it. The doors were made of dark metal and had pictures of pyramids and hieroglyphs engraved on them.

  Above her, Rose heard Dolores’s concerned voice call: ‘Rose? Are you all right?’

  ‘I’ve found the entrance to something,’ Rose replied.

  Dolores climbed down the ladder to join her.

  ‘Mmm, interesting,’ she said, inspecting the doors. ‘There’s no door handle.’

  ‘There’s a keypad,’ Rose said, pointing to a small panel by the door. ‘Perhaps that opens the door?’

  ‘But we don’t have the number,’ Dolores said with a sigh. She was turning to go when the doors slid open with a hiss.

  ‘That’s strange,’ Rose said.

  ‘It is,’ Dolores replied and paused. ‘Well, we might as well go in.’ And they stepped through the doors.

  As soon as they did, the doors shut behind them and they found themselves squashed together in a tiny lobby, staring at another set of lift-like doors. Just as Rose was beginning to feel anxious, the doors opened, and Rose and Dolores walked into a large room with a domed ceiling.

  It was like entering a room at the British Museum, with its stone floor and display cases of carefully labelled artefacts. And in the centre, like Snow White in her glass coffin, lay the stolen mummy.

  ‘I don’t believe it!’ Rose cried. ‘It must have been Professor Fitzherbert all along!’

  Dolores looked carefully at the display cases. ‘Here are all the objects stolen from the museum too,’ she said. ‘There’s no doubt about his guilt, but I wonder whether Miss Beasley is involved as well. We should go and see how the others are getting on in the house.’

  Rose agreed and they walked back to the entrance. The first set of doors opened obligingly and shut with a hiss as they walked into the lobby. They waited for the outer entrance doors to open, but nothing happened.

  Dolores looked for a handle or a button or something. But there was nothing.

  Then a trickling noise came from the floor and they looked down to see water seeping in by their feet. Just a little at first, but soon it began to gush in, quickly covering the toes of their shoes. A few minutes later, it was up to their ankles.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Rose cried.

  At that moment, Professor Fitzherbert’s voice boomed from a speaker above them.

  ‘No mercy is shown to robbers and thieves!’

  ‘It’s a trap!’ Dolores cried.

  ‘Let us out! Let us out!’ they both shouted, hammering on the doors as the water crept up their legs.

  ‘Oh, why won’t you listen to advice, Violet? I told you to forget about solving the crime, and yet here you are, sticking your nose in!’ Professor Fitzherbert said, as he towered over her. Then he pulled her up by the scruff of her neck and marched her towards the hillside and through a narrow opening in the rocks.

  Ralph smacked Number Three hard on its bottom and the donkey bolted back up the path.

  ‘I can’t believe that you’ve been stealing from the museum that you run!’ Violet spluttered.

  ‘I don’t like to think of it as stealing. I prefer to view it as moving objects from one collection to another more exclusive one, where they can’t be gawped at by a load of good-for-nothing, snotty-nosed children who have no proper understanding of what they’re looking at.’

  ‘But you’ve sabotaged Matilde’s research!’ Violet cried.

  ‘No I haven’t. I’ve finished it off for her,’ he said, and dragged Violet through the tunnel until they came out into a large chamber, its walls covered in hieroglyphs.

  ‘Welcome to the treasure chamber of Queen Nefertiti’s tomb,’ he said. ‘I have to say it was full of the most spectacular treasure I have ever seen. As you can see, we’ve emptied it and now it’s all being loaded into the van outside, ready to go to Cairo.’

  Despite the circumstances, Violet couldn’t help but look around in wonder at the hieroglyphics and paintings.

  ‘I suppose you’re going to keep all the treasure for yourself?’ Violet said, as the Professor shoved her onto the floor and roughly tied her hands behind her back, before doing the same with her feet.

  ‘No, only the best bits. The rest I’ll sell privately to other collectors.’

  ‘Won’t they care that it’s stolen?’

  ‘No, everyone will be much too delighted to ask questions. And tomorrow we blast through to the tomb itself. Dynamite is a little destructive, but oh so quick.’

  Before Violet could tell him how awful, greedy and selfish he was, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. ‘Quite clean, I assure you,’ he said, and gagged Violet with it. ‘That should keep you quiet until I decide what to do with you. Perhaps I’ll leave you here for the jackals and the hyenas. They get terribly hungry at night.’ And with that he left Violet all alone.

  ‘I will not cry,’ Violet said to herself, as two fat tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘Crying never helps,’ she added, but it was too late and she began to sob as best she could with a gag in her mouth.

  ‘Oh dear, feeling sad, are we?’ Professor Fitzherbert said, coming back into the tomb. ‘Never mind, I’ve brought you some company.’ And he flung Agnes on the floor next to Violet, before starting to tie Agnes up too. ‘Sorry, not so clean,’ he said, as he pulled another handkerchief
– this one dirty and crumpled – out of his pocket and gagged her with it. ‘Anyway, I must be off. I have some dynamite to prepare!’

  Alone in the room, the two girls sat on the floor, feeling very sorry for themselves. But then, after about twenty minutes, they heard Grand-mère’s familiar voice outside, talking to Professor Fitzherbert. Yes! Violet thought. Grand-mère to the rescue!

  ‘My dear lady,’ Professor Fitzherbert was saying, oozing charm. ‘I am so sorry that you have lost your granddaughters. How very distressing for you. I can assure you that we have not seen them.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Grand-mère said. There was something about Professor Fitzherbert that she didn’t trust. He hadn’t mentioned that he was coming to the Valley of the Kings at tea the day before. But then why would he lie about Violet and Agnes? she asked herself.

  ‘Very well, thank you for your help. Come, Ahmed, we will try the other path. Or perhaps they have gone back to the main entrance . . .’

  Inside the tomb, Violet and Agnes looked at each other in despair as they heard Grand-mère leave.

  Back in London, Art and PC Green were driving away from Professor Fitzherbert’s house. PC Green had just been summoned away on urgent police business, and Art didn’t want to alert Miss Beasley to Rose and Dolores’s presence, so he was pretending to leave with PC Green. Miss Beasley hadn’t been exactly welcoming, but, after a bit of persuasion, she had given them a full tour of the house. They had found no trace of the mummy, though it quickly became clear that Miss Beasley, Ralph, Alf and Professor Fitzherbert knew each other rather well.

  In fact, you could say extremely well, since they were clearly a family and the house was full of photos of the four of them. Why would they not mention that at work? Art wondered, thinking how suspicious it was, and even PC Green thought it was a little strange. He asked Miss Beasley why they had kept it a secret.

 

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