In the last episode, Kristi met someone else who had been trapped in early 20th century Egypt through a movie. Also, when she accidentally revealed Alan’s secret, readers voted that Edith already knew it.
“Now you’ve done it,” Edith said under her breath. Kristi’s head jerked up.
“How do you–”
“Know?” Edith shrugged. “Some letters addressed to him got mixed in with mine. I put two and two together and . . .”
“Got a wealthy man masquerading as an expedition photographer,” Edmund said.
“Oh, not masquerading. His credentials are real enough.”
“What the blazes is–” A loud banging on the front door interrupted Geoffrey. They heard it open, and a moment later Aziah entered the room, followed closely by Abdul Musa.
He bounced up to Geoffrey and bowed. Kristi noticed he was sweating, and his hands were shaking a little. “I apologize for disturbing you so late, Mr. Rushton. But I really must speak to Miss Parker.”
Geoffrey pointed to the table. “Knock yourself out.”
Abdul looked over at them, a too-bright smile still plastered on his face. “Please, where is Miss Parker?”
“I’ll–” Edmund started to say, but Edith cut him off.
“Miss Parker?” She said, her eyebrows raised.
Kristi buried her face in her hands.
“I don’t understand,” Abdul said, bewildered.
Edith narrowed her eyes. “Looks like there might be more than one case of mistaken identity here.”
“What do you want with Miss Parker?” Edmund asked.
Abdul’s fingers fidgeted with his snow-white robe nervously. As he did, a scrap of paper fell out of his pocket and drifted toward the floor. Geoffrey picked it up.
He sat up and looked at it closely. “Where did you get this?” he demanded. The others crowded around him, peering over his shoulder. It was a sketch of the pyramid symbol they had been finding at the excavation. The one that was supposed to be cursed.
“It is a symbol of the Hela tribe,” Aziah said in a low voice behind them.
“Who are they?” Kristi asked.
Aziah spread her hands. “A local tribe. Master thieves, like many in Egypt. They put the curse on the place you are digging in now.”
“Thieves,” Geoffrey said. “So there’s nothing left in the burial chamber then.”
“If they reached it,” Aziah shrugged.
Geoffrey crumpled up the piece of paper and tossed it down on the desk. Abdul looked pained. He picked it up, smoothed it out carefully and put it back in his pocket.
“Look, it’s getting late,” Geoffrey said, shoving his chair away from the desk and standing up. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but we can sort it out in the morning.”
Abdul shifted uneasily.
“I’m sure you should be getting back.” Geoffrey propelled him firmly toward the door, but Abdul broke his grip and stood behind Kristi. “I, uh . . .”
“What do you want, Abdul?” Edmund asked.
“I thought perhaps, uh, that if it was not too much of a bother I might stay the night.”
“Absolutely not,” Geoffrey strode over, seized him by the arm and pulled him to the door. He opened it and gave the art dealer a firm shove. “You can come back in the morning if you have to, Mr. Musa.” Vote below on what will happen next or if reading in email click Take our Poll.