The Secret of the King's Tomb

by Garrett Drake

  “I understand as I’m sure being forced into a job so suddenly would make even the most naïve person cautious. Hopefully, I can put your mind at ease by telling you that I’m a writer and I, too, find myself here on a most unexpected adventure in an effort to help the American government stop these German soldiers from obtaining great wealth through illegal means. All I was asked to do was to find out what they were doing and then report back to my superior. But it’s turned into so much more.”

  “It seems as if we’re both being used.”

  “However, I’m participating much more willingly than you are,” Richard said. “This is a noble—if not vital—cause. We mustn’t let the Germans find ways to get their hands on the resources to rebuild their army. And if they have their way, they’re going to steal a part of Egypt.”

  “It’s more than that,” Jabari said.

  “What do you mean?”

  Jabari crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “They intend to take a part of our Egyptian heritage.”

  “What exactly are they planning?”

  “When they first apprehended me, they showed me a map and asked me if I could read it,” Jabari said. “I’ve seen plenty like it before, a document that speculates where the treasure might be hidden and the exact route one must take to reach it. However, I’ve assisted on many digs around the Valley of the Kings, and reaching hidden tombs isn’t easy. A number of attempts are often required before the entry is identified. However, there is one thing that is always assured.”

  “And what is that?”

  “The treasure will be immense—and these men have every intention of taking it back to their own country and profiting from the treasure that they find.”

  “Do you know what treasure they’re after?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to study the map, but I saw a name at the top that intrigued me, if anything because of all the stories I’ve heard about this vast treasure belonging to this particular pharaoh.”

  “What’s his name?” Richard asked.

  “King Tutankhamun.”

  “I’ve read plenty about ancient Egypt, and I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of him.”

  “Information about his rule is scarce, but for those archeologists and other scholars who have studied the tombs of the ancient pharaohs, the legend of King Tutankhamun is a well-known secret. The problem is nobody knows if it’s simply a legend or fact.”

  “So the Germans seem to think they have a map that leads to Tutankhamun’s tomb,” Richard said.

  Jabari nodded. “From what I’ve gathered so far, that is my assumption. But I still need to inspect the document more closely.”

  “Then we need to get a better look at it,” Richard said.

  “How do you expect to do that?” Jabari asked. “This Wilhelm character won’t let it out of his sight, keeping it tucked inside his coat pocket at all times.”

  “Don’t despair, my friend. I have a plan.”

  Chapter 18

  RICHARD RETREATED TO the room he’d claimed and looked at himself in the mirror. The five o’clock shadow he’d had just a few days before had now sprouted into the makings of a beard. With little effort, he managed to snag a pair of reading glasses off one of the small tables in the dining room. Each facial-changing device on its own wasn’t enough of a disguise, but Richard was confident the combination would create enough of a different look to help avoid detection while roaming about on the ship. And while he was ready to take action before arriving in Luxor the next day, Richard had learned something from Hank Foster—the art of patience.

  While Richard knew it was imperative to follow the Reichswehr unit to the dig site, he had one glaring problem: the means by which to accomplish his goal. Without any resources to pay for transportation by horse or camel, he was stuck. He couldn’t reasonably walk out to the site each day, especially if he intended to operate stealthily. And if he was going to sabotage the Germans’ efforts, he needed tools, which also required money. Since he was in short supply of everything, he wondered if he was running a fool’s errand as opposed to actually making a difference and stopping some grave danger.

  Despite being given a hefty amount of money to complete the mission, Richard knew he was hired for his resourcefulness. Foster had made that point clear. And it was for times like these—times where he couldn’t easily access the funds necessary to hire beasts of burden and other workers willing to unearth a treasure—that he needed to lean on his creativity.

  He stepped into the corridor and noticed a man wearing a jacket with the Thomas Cook & Son logo embroidered over his left breast pocket. That’s when the idea hit Richard like a raging bull.

  “Excuse me, sir,” Richard said as the man approached.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you happen to work for Thomas Cook & Son?”

  The man nodded. “I’m one of the guides for this Egyptian tour.”

  “Would you be so kind to introduce me to your boss?” Richard asked. “I’ve studied in the field of archeology and would like to know if the tour company requires any additional help.”

  The man shrugged. “Why not? I heard my boss say that we’re in short supply of guides for this trip—and I just so happen to be on my way to see him now. Would you like to tag along?”

  “I’d be honored,” Richard said.

  He followed the guide down the hallway and then up a couple of flights of stairs until they reached the deck where all the first class cabins were located. After a knock on the door, a man bid them to come in.

  “Sir, I brought someone to see you who I thought you might be interested in meeting,” the man said. “This is—”

  “Jonathan Francois,” Richard said as he offered his hand.

  “Vincent Vance,” the bespectacled man said as he took Richard’s hand. “And why do I need to meet this young fellow?”

  “Aren’t you looking for some more guides?” the other man said.

  “I am,” Vincent said. “What kind of experience do you have?”

  “Well, as of right this minute, none—but I wager a job on the fact that I know more than enough to handle some of your tours.”

  Vincent stroked his beard and cocked his head to one side. “Anthropology major?”

  “I took classes at Princeton—okay, just one class,” Richard said. “But I’ve been obsessed with Egypt since I was a young child.”

  “Have you been to Egypt before?”

  Richard shook his head. “No, sir. This is my first trip, but I—”

  “Look, Mr. Francis—”

  “Francois,” Richard corrected.

  “Mr. Francois, I’m afraid that here at Thomas Cook & Son tours, we pride ourselves on employing the most experienced and knowledgeable guides in the business. And seeing that you have neither the experience or the knowledge necessary to serve in one of these positions, I’m afraid you’re not the right fit for us.”

  “Sir, I kindly ask you to reconsider,” Richard said. “I’m very well versed on the geological history of the Giza Plateau as well as the history of Napoleon’s exploits around the tombs in the late 18th century, not to mention the history of the Medjay, the secret police that guarded the tombs.”

  Vincent’s eyes widened. “You certainly seem to have a grasp on the facts, but the real secret to being a great guide is spinning a tale that enraptures your clients to the point that they retell your stories, ultimately cultivating a steady stream of future tourists. And that’s the secret that I’m not able to discern in a meeting such as this.”

  “If it helps, sir, my true aspirations are to become a writer,” Richard said.

  Vincent chuckled. “You and everyone else fresh out of college. It’s as if this new generation of kids thinks that people have nothing better to do but sit around and read.”

  “I’ve been published,” Richard insisted. “Do you subscribe to Field and Stream magazine?”

  Vincent templed his fingers and looked over the top of his glasses at Richard. “I c
an see that you’re a persistent chap and not going to stop pestering me until I relent. But at the moment, I’m afraid we just don’t have such an urgent need for guides that I would hire someone as inexperienced as yourself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other business I need to attend to.”

  Richard turned to go when another man rushed into the room to speak with Vincent.

  “Sir, we have a problem,” the man said. “Marcus has come down with a fever, and the ship’s doctor has recommended quarantining him for a minimum of a week.”

  Vincent sighed. “Isn’t Marcus scheduled to handle Lord and Lady Drummond for tomorrow afternoon’s outing once we reach Luxor?”

  The man nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  “Then we’ll shuffle the schedule around,” Vincent said.

  “But, sir, most of the clients have made specific requests. If you start adjusting the assignments, you may not have just one upset client but a whole boat full of irate customers. Besides, you could probably fill in for Marcus.”

  “I can’t,” Vincent said. “I have a meeting with a big investor in Luxor during the scheduled tours. The board has stressed how critical this meeting is to the future of our company. I can’t miss it.”

  “In that case, we could combine a couple of groups.”

  Vincent shook his head. “That won’t work either. All of these couples paid premium prices to get the individualized attention.”

  Richard took a step toward Vincent and his employees. “Sir, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I believe I could help you with your quandary.”

  “With all due respect, Mr. Franklin—”

  “Francois,” Richard correct again.

  “Mr. Francois, Lady Drummond isn’t the kind of woman who wants to be regaled by all your academic knowledge. She’s a sophisticate of the highest nature and is more enamored with movie stars and culture than your legends.”

  Richard smiled. “Then you’re in luck, Mr. Vincent. I just so happen to know a few movie stars as well.”

  “Is that so?” Vincent asked, stroking his chin.

  Richard nodded. “I met several when I was at the Battle Creek Sanitarium as a boy, some I even consider to be my friends to this day.”

  The other man raised his eyebrows and eyed Vincent. “He could be an adequate replacement, especially if he can spin a yarn.”

  “I’m not so sure he isn’t spinning one right now,” Vincent said.

  “Which should tell you all you need to know about my storytelling ability,” Richard said with a wry smile.

  Vincent sighed. “Very well then, Mr. Frazier—”

  “Francois,” Richard said.

  “Welcome aboard, Mr. Francois.”

  The two men shook hands.

  “One more thing, sir,” Richard said. “I’m a bit cramped in my third class cabin. Would it be possible to upgrade to first class?”

  Vincent shrugged. “If I say no, you’ll just aggravate me until I change my mind, won’t you?”

  Richard nodded slowly. “It’s only one night, sir. But I promise you’ll remember the day you hired Jonathan Francois.”

  “Let me see what I can do,” Vincent said. “Meet me at dinner tonight, and I’ll try to make arrangements by then. It’s probably the least I can do for someone who just might be the solution to one of my biggest predicaments on this trip—or any trip I’ve ever led for that matter.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Richard said.

  “One more thing before you go,” Vincent said.

  “Sir?”

  “You need to shave,” Vincent said. “Thomas Cook & Son has a strict policy barring employees from wearing beards and mustaches.”

  “You could scarcely consider this much of anything,” Richard said. “It’s just some stubble.”

  “I didn’t make the policy,” Vincent said. “I just enforce it. Alexander here will fetch you a fresh razor if you don’t have one.”

  Richard glanced at a portrait of Thomas Cook on the wall behind Vincent. “Did this rule come about because Mr. Cook was jealous due to his serious deficit of hair?”

  “God rest his soul,” Vincent said. “Poor Mr. Cook’s head wasn’t exactly fertile ground for such growth.”

  “His son, on the other hand, could’ve woven a nice rug out of his beard,” Richard said.

  Vincent eyed Richard carefully. “If you want the job, you’ll shave. Understood?”

  Richard nodded.

  “Good. I’ll see you at dinner tonight, hopefully with a new room key for you.”

  * * *

  LATER THAT EVENING, Vincent remained true to his word, seeking out a freshly-shaven Richard at dinner.

  “You’re in room one-eleven,” Vincent said, handing Richard a key as well as a book. “This is our guidebook for how we expect our employees to handle clients. Read up on this tonight because tomorrow you may not have much time between unloading the boat and preparing for the tours the next morning.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Richard said.

  Cutting his dinner short, he retrieved his items from the third classroom he’d claimed and placed them in his new home in first class. Even though it was only for one night, he was looking forward to sleeping in a cozy bed, something that had eluded him for more than a week.

  Once he settled in, he placed his hat back on and adjusted his reading glasses so they sat low on the bridge of his nose. He needed to return to the parlor and find Wilhelm. Before they made it to port, Richard wanted to see what was on that document that Wilhelm had stolen from Dr. Miller—had killed Dr. Miller for—and then guarded so closely.

  After Richard entered the hallway, he was locking his door when a gentleman down the hall called out.

  “Don’t I know you?” The man cocked his head to one side and shook his index finger at Richard.

  He turned to his right and saw one of the Reichswehr unit leaders, Wilhelm’s second in command. The man eyed Richard more closely.

  Richard tugged his hat a little lower down across his brow and then shook his head before speaking in a husky voice. “I’m afraid you must have me confused with someone else. You don’t look familiar to me.”

  “Are you sure we haven’t met?”

  Richard shook his head. “Sorry, sir.”

  “What’s your name?” the man asked.

  “Jonathan Francois,” Richard said. “I’m a guide for Thomas Cook & Son.”

  “Well, I would swear I’ve met you before somewhere.”

  Richard nodded. “Have a nice evening, sir.”

  The man entered the room next door before Richard turned to lean against the door and exhaled in relief. He was about to walk away when he heard the man’s voice carrying through the paper-thin walls.

  “Sir, are you ready to go play cards?” the man asked in German.

  Another man answered—and Richard instantly recognized the voice and smiled. He had been given the adjacent room to Wilhelm.

  In an instant, Richard’s plans for the evening changed.

  Chapter 19

  RICHARD SCRAMBLED BACK inside his room and climbed up onto the upper bunk that was attached the wall adjacent to Wilhelm’s cabin. After careful examination, Richard determined that the flimsy material used in construction could easily be burrowed through without much trouble. To cut as stealthily as possible, he slithered beneath the bottom bunk in a prone position and began to wedge his pocketknife into the wall, making small, slight movements. The whole process took no more than two minutes before the new hole allowed both light and sound to pour into his room.

  With his face flattened against the floor, Richard winked his right eye shut while peering through the opening with his left. Only the feet of two men were visible, but Richard didn’t need long to figure out which shoes belong to whom.

  “Have you let the guide study the map?” Wilhelm’s second in command asked, a man Richard figured out went by the surname of Reinhard.

  “Yes,” Wilhelm said. “He’s confident he can guide us straight to it.
”

  “Are you sure he’s not attempting to compromise us?”

  “You can never be sure of a man’s intentions, but he’s acting like a man who believes we will keep our promises with regards to his family.”

  “What about the issue of the permits?” Reinhard asked.

  “He understands that he must accomplish everything we ask him to do or suffer the consequences. And he will never be able to gain the upper hand with us.”

  “When we arrive, I’ll secure the necessary supplies.”

  “Excellent,” Wilhelm said.

  “And what of the issue of Seeckt’s spy in our midst? Have you resolved that yet?”

  “I’m working on it. Someone will regret accepting such an assignment while on my team, that much I am sure of.”

  Reinhard muttered something before exiting the room and leaving Wilhelm alone.

  Richard backed away from the hole before covering it with a dirty sock. After sliding out from beneath the bed, he stood and paced around the room. The brief conversation had shed more light on the team, its hierarchy, its ruthless methods, and a potential weakness that Richard intended to exploit at some point if necessary. But he needed to connect with Jabari, his lone ally in the quest to prevent the Reichswehr unit from looting the tomb.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, the steamboat eased into the Luxor port just after breakfast. All across the ship, the passengers were giddy, buzzing with excitement over finally reaching their destination and getting to explore what they’d all come to see. First class exited before everyone else as young boys hustled to earn a few coins by helping wealthy travelers with their luggage. Richard was approached by a small boy with huge brown eyes. He looked up at Richard and gestured to take his pack. While Richard politely declined, he couldn’t resist depressing a piece of money into the boy’s hands, despite the limited amount remaining for Richard to survive with. He hoped that his pay from Thomas Cook & Son would ease his financial worries, but he knew better than to rely on a promise of a salary. Until the money was in his hands, he needed to keep a tight rein on his purse.

  Richard strolled along the dock and gawked at his surroundings, both natural and man-made. The Egyptians were far ahead of their time when it came to architecture, and Richard couldn’t help but marvel at all the buildings and homes crowding around the dock. When he squinted into the distance, he noticed the ruins of the ancient Luxor temple. Though the structure was merely a shell of its former self, Richard didn’t find it difficult to imagine the building’s splendor with all that remained. Thick columns soared skyward, casting long shadows on the courtyard. The pylon gateway leading into the heart of the temple was every bit as grand as he’d seen in pictures, yet the sight was far more vivid witnessed in person.