Curse of the Pharaoh: A Brock Stone Adventure

“My new editor has rejected all of my latest pitches, except for those he took and handed off to his toadies.” She held up her notepad. “He suggested I do a piece on fashionable hats.”

“Give me a boater any day. Keeps the sunbeams off your beak.” Alex tapped his nose with the tip of the hook that had taken the place of his missing left hand and grinned knowingly.

“I’ll be sure to include that in my column.” Trinity thrust a pencil into the sharpener and cranked furiously, imagining the pencil was her editor’s finger, or some other body part. “Everyone keeps telling me how fortunate I am to even have this job, as if I don’t have the same qualifications as my male colleagues, and I have seen more of the world than any of them.” A few months earlier, Trinity and her friends had uncovered a secret lab where the Illuminati and their Nazi cohorts conducted horrible human experiments.

“You might want to try a pen,” Alex said.

Trinity looked down to see that she had ground the pencil to a nub. She held it up, stared at it for a moment, then tossed it into the wastebasket.

“It’s unfair. Just when I had earned the respect of my previous editor, he went and had himself a massive heart attack.”

“The nerve of the man.” Alex took a newspaper from inside his coat, unfolded it, and began to read.

“And now, my new editor thinks I’m only good for puff pieces.”

Alex didn’t reply. He turned the page and let out a low whistle. “If you want to write a story about hats, I suggest you begin at the Natural History Museum. Magda Fischer has arranged for a private viewing of the Orion Crowley exhibit. Well, her rich boyfriend arranged it.”

“Spoiled celebrities,” Trinity muttered. Magdalena “Magda” Fischer was a popular actress from Austria. With her golden tresses and big blue eyes, she was regarded by many as the most beautiful woman in the world. Trinity couldn’t see it. “And what does that have to do with hats?”

“Look at this.” Alex flipped the newspaper around.

Beneath the headline SCREEN QUEEN GETS PRIVATE AUDIENCE WITH THE DEAD was a photograph of Fischer in an indecently tight dress. She was walking arm-in-arm with a tall, distinguished-looking man. The pair were surrounded by security guards, thick-necked brunos who bore more than a passing resemblance to albino gorillas.

“You have to admit, that’s a very nice hat.” Alex’s eyes twinkled.

“I doubt it was the hat that caught your eye. And the Washington Warbler? Who said you could bring a competitor’s paper in here? Not that that rag is worthy of the name.”

She snatched the paper away from Alex and scanned the article. Alfred Orion Crowley, known to his friends as Orion, was the eccentric scion of a wealthy English family. A self-described archaeologist, he made several trips up the Nile, though he claimed to have discovered nothing of any importance. According to rumors, something happened on his final expedition that frightened him so much that he never returned to Egypt again.

Orion moved to northern Virginia, where he lived a quiet life. He was an active member of the Freemasons, and his sponsorship of archaeological expeditions and donations to museums earned him a reputation as a philanthropist. The few who knew him well described him as a kind but troubled man. After his death, investigators discovered a hidden door in his library. On the other side was a private study filled with Egyptian artifacts.

In his will, Orion had left all his belongings to the Smithsonian Institution. The items had been cataloged and studied and would be on exhibit beginning tomorrow. The exhibit included a reconstruction of Orion’s secret study, using his actual furniture and possessions. In exchange for a sizeable donation to the Smithsonian, Magda Fischer and a handful of invited guests would get an early peek at his collection.

“You know how Orion died, don’t you?” Alex grasped the top of the newspaper with his hook and pulled it down so he could peer over at Trinity. “The Curse of the Pharaoh!”

“For the last time, Alex, Egyptian curses aren’t real. Mediterranean food simply disagrees with you.”

“I’m serious! Egyptian artifacts are cursed. Bad things happen to people who take them. And what did he uncover on his last expedition that convinced him to put an entire ocean between himself and Egypt?”

“That sounds like one of your pulp novels,” Trinity said. “For the life of me, I can’t understand why you waste your time with those ridiculous adventure stories. It’s no wonder you read the Warbler.” Her eyes drifted back to the photograph of Magda Fischer and to the slightly blurred image of her gentleman friend. She gasped. “I can’t believe it! How did I not recognize him immediately?”

“Recognize who?” Alex asked.