Curse of the Pharaoh: A Brock Stone Adventure

Ratliff took out a map and unrolled it on his desk. “The area where the city might be found is a long journey from here. My best estimate is that it lies somewhere in this area.” His finger drew a triangle from Luxor south to Aswan, northwest to the Southern Oasis, and back again to Luxor.

“That is a large area,” Alex said. “Can you give us any hints? Landmarks, perhaps?”

“I fear not. I suggest speaking with guides in Luxor, maybe some of the elders in the city. Stories get passed down through generations. Someone might be able to help you. I must caution you, what you propose will be dangerous and expensive.”

“Will we be able to purchase necessary supplies there?” Stone asked.

“You will find what you need in Luxor,” Ratliff said.

They thanked him for his help and bade him goodbye.

“Where to now, captain?” Alex said.

“How about you escort the ladies back to the hotel? I’ll book our passage to Luxor. Then we can rest up for our journey.”

“Not so fast, Mister Stone,” Trinity said. “I have spent too many days cooped up on a boat. Tonight you are taking us out on the town.”

* * *

Abraxas Ratliff watched his unexpected visitors go. They could not be allowed to find Kauketos. Perhaps he could stop them and make a tidy profit on the side. Stone had not batted an eye when he mentioned the cost. That meant he must be carrying a substantial amount of money. The women would fetch a handsome price from the right people. The man with the hook was disposable.

He hurried out into the hallway, locked the door behind him, and made his way out into the street. Around the corner and two blocks down, he found the person he was looking for — a street urchin clad in dirty robes.

The young man eyed him suspiciously until Ratliff gave the sign. The youth snapped to attention right away.

“Tell your employer I have marks for him. A wealthy traveler and two beautiful women. I want the usual fee, plus thirty percent of whatever he makes.”

“He will not agree to that.”

“Tell him.” Ratliff knew he would only end up with ten percent, but Amir liked to haggle.

“You can give me the details,” the lad said.

“Don’t be foolish. Half up front and I tell him everything he needs to know. He knows where to find me.”

The youth waited but did not reply. After a few seconds, Ratliff pressed a pound note into his palm, and he hurried away.

“Foolish Americans,” Ratliff said to himself. “You would have died in the attempt. I might as well make some money off of the deal.” He quickly made his way back to the university. There were others searching for Kauketos. It was time to report to them.

13 The Club

The Badia Casino, commonly known as the Opera Casino, was the crown jewel of Cairo nightlife. It was a place where East mixed with West, and tonight, it was packed with the most diverse group of people Stone had ever seen. Here the rich, powerful, and influential mixed with tourists and locals to enjoy music, dancing, and dining on “international and Oriental” cuisine. As they made their way to their table, he caught snatches of half a dozen different languages. A band played an upbeat jazz number while patrons danced the Charleston.

“I did not expect to find a place like this in Egypt,” Alex said as they took their seats in the dining area.

“Would you believe the owner is a woman?” Trinity said. “Badia Masbni is a legendary singer, dancer, and actress. She owns several clubs and businesses, but this one is her crown jewel.”

“I can see why,” Constance said. “I could almost believe we were in New York.”

“Or Paris,” Stone said.

Trinity quirked an eyebrow. “You went to Paris without me?”

“It was for business, not pleasure.” It was one of the many memories Stone wished he could forget.

“The ‘business’ you never talk about?” Alex said.

“Exactly.”

It was then that a server came to take their orders. Soon, they were dining on a sumptuous meal of Nile perch, vegetables stuffed with rice, and thick slices of brown bread baked with bits of fig and date. They took their time, enjoying the food and the performances. Stone had booked passage on the luxury steamer P.S. Sudan, which departed in the morning. Knowing they would be cooped up on the ship for several days, Trinity and Constance had insisted on an evening out.

They were surprised to discover that the band was led by trumpeter Memphis Joe Johnson, a black man from Tennessee. He was supported by the Big River Band, a group every bit as diverse as the clientele. Stone and his friends bobbed their heads and tapped their feet while the band played upbeat tunes. When the band broke into "I Wish I Could Shimmy Like My Sister Kate", a popular dance number written by Louis Armstrong, Trinity stood and took Stone’s hand.

“Dance with me.” It was not a request, but an order. Stone didn’t bother arguing. On the other side of the table, Constance fixed Alex with an expectant look. Alex sighed, drained his glass of wine, and stood.