Chapter Twelve
Gabriela and Rafer entered the building and crossed the small lobby to the stairs.
“He’s on the third floor,” Gabriela said. “His name is Mohammed. I can’t pronounce the last name. He’s fifty-three years old. His wife works as a dental assistant. He has two adult sons. And he’s expecting me.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Internet. And I made a couple phone calls. Search programs don’t work as well here as they do in the US.”
“He speaks English?”
“He graduated from Columbia.”
They reached the third floor, Gabriela rapped on the door, and Mohammed answered.
“Thank you for agreeing to talk to me,” Gabriela said, following him into the apartment.
“I’m happy to help,” he said. “I can’t believe we lost Brendan’s coffin. It was very special. Beautifully done. And a total mystery. It’s the mystery that made it such a compelling piece to send on tour.”
“Do you have any idea how the theft happened?” Gabriela asked.
“No. I had special permission to accept our cargo when it was unloaded. I was there when it was taken off the plane at the cargo terminal, and I followed it through customs. They opened the crate, saw that the only thing in the crate was the golden coffin, and closed the crate. I was standing a short distance away. It didn’t occur to me to do an exam at this point.
It wasn’t until we unpacked the crate at the museum that we realized the coffin was a fake. ”
“Was anything left on the plane?”
“I don’t know firsthand. I stayed with my shipment, but I heard them say that the plane was empty.”
“Do you know who packed the crate in New York?”
“Jay Snyder was in charge. He’s one of the museum directors.
He was at Columbia when I was there. He was a year ahead of me.
I called him immediately. He was as confused as I was.
He said he personally saw the coffin get moved off the exhibition floor and get sealed into the crate.
And he saw the crate get loaded into the van. ”
“But he didn’t drive to the airport?”
“No. Met security took over once the crate was in the van.”
Rafer and Gabriela exchanged glances.
“You think that’s the weak link,” Mohammed said. “I had the same thought, but Jay said the men were solid. He knew both of them. They were senior security officers. They personally saw the crate get loaded into the plane.”
“What happened to the crate after it passed inspection at the airport here?”
“I stayed with it. The crate and the rest of the traveling exhibit was transferred to a museum vehicle.”
“And you rode in that same museum vehicle?”
“Correct. We drove directly to the museum and immediately brought everything inside where there was better climate control.”
“Was it a good replica?”
“Not perfect, but good enough. The weight was similar. The gold paint was quite good. Probably sprayed on. The details of the coffin were accurate. The easiest way to do this is to make a death mask of the whole thing. Even the experts were fooled when the lid came off the crate. Not for very long, of course. But initially.”
“Which museum accepted the crate?” Gabriela asked.
“The Egyptian Museum.”
Gabriela gave him her business card. “This has been helpful. If you have any new thoughts or if you hear something, please call.”
They left Mohammed and stood on the sidewalk, looking for their taxi.
“This was worth the time spent,” Gabriela said. “The information Harley gave me made no mention of a fake coffin.”
“My best guess is that a switch was made while offloading the plane,” Rafer said.
“I’m on board with that,” Gabriela said.
“There had to be someone in the States who had enough access to make the death mask.”
“I’m not sure, but I think you could use 3D printing to get a pretty good replica using a photo. And that opens up the accomplice field to a lot of people, not necessarily in the States.”
Gabriela waved at Jim as he made his way down the street toward them.
“I couldn’t stay here,” Jim said when Gabriela and Rafer got into the taxi. “There was a lot of anger and death threats if I remained. Where would you like to go now?”
“Take us to the cargo terminal at the airport,” Gabriela said. “It’s in a separate building.”
“Yes. I know this place,” Jim said. “I sometimes bring people here to get their precious things.”
Gabriela took her phone out of her bag and scrolled through her emails. “I asked Marcella to get me a list of all cargo shipped with the coffin, and to highlight any items that might be as big or bigger than the coffin. It just came through and, as expected, there were several large containers.”
“Anything that was exactly the right size?”
“I haven’t had a chance to read through it all. You’re thinking they could just swap out the lid of the crate,” Gabriela said. “It’s a good idea, but it would still have to go through inspection.”
“Maybe a crate with a false bottom?”
“It’s possible, but it would have to be at least seventy-four inches long, twenty inches wide, and the false bottom would have to be a minimum of twenty inches high.”
“This is a little creepy that you are looking for a coffin that sounds to be smuggled,” Jim said. “I’m thinking this might be the golden coffin that has gone missing.”
Rafer and Gabriela went silent for a beat.
“You know about that?” she asked Jim.
“Yes. Almost everyone knows. It is very hard to keep a secret in Egypt.” He turned onto El Nasr Road.
“I like the idea of a false bottom. I’ve been here when the planes are unloaded, and it is a lot of confusion sometimes.
Cargo is going to the warehouse for holding, and some is getting picked up by people who do not always know what they are doing.
The inspectors might miss a false bottom if it is done correctly. ”
They reached the airport, and Jim found the cargo terminal.
“Will you be bringing this coffin home with you?” he asked. “It will not fit in my car, but we might be able to strap it to the roof.”
“Not a problem,” Gabriela said. “I’m just making an inquiry.”
Rafer stayed with Jim, and Gabriela went inside and approached a uniformed inspector. She showed him her card and asked if there was someone she could speak to about a recent shipment.
“I might be able to help,” he said.
“Last month a traveling GEM exhibit of antiquities was offloaded here,” she said. “A claim has been made on one of the items, and I need some information.”
“I remember this. There was a golden coffin in that shipment. You aren’t the first one to inquire about it.”
“Yes,” Gabriela said. “There were some problems. Was the crate damaged when you received it?”
“No. Not at all. And it also wasn’t damaged when it left here. We opened the crate. We verified the contents. We closed it up. There was a museum representative present. Very professional. We cleared the paperwork. Then the entire GEM exhibit was put into a museum truck and driven away.”
“Was there anything on the plane that seemed odd to you?”
“No. Not a thing except the golden coffin. It was mostly household goods and consumer products. Much of what we get here is repeat. T-shirts, golf balls, permanent marker pens, Nintendo Switch, Ray-Bans, toaster ovens.”
Gabriela returned to the taxi.
“How’d it go?” Rafer asked.
“Yes. How did it go?” Jim asked.
“It went okay,” Gabriela said.
“Did you find your golden coffin?” Jim asked.
“No,” Gabriela said, “but I have some ideas.”
“Where will these ideas take us next?” Jim asked.
“Back to the hotel.”
“It is early,” Jim said. “This is just getting interesting. Are you sure you want to go to the hotel?”
“Yes. I need my computer.”
“I have ideas for dinner,” Jim said. “My cousin has a wonderful restaurant not far from your hotel. He makes a most excellent koshary. And his ta’ameya is the best in Cairo. I can pick you up at eight o’clock.”
Rafer, Harley, and Gabriela were standing outside the hotel at eight o’clock. Jim pulled up and they all got in.
“Who is this new person?” Jim asked.
“This is Harley,” Gabriela said. “He’s the reason we’re here.”
“Is this the doofus who lost the golden coffin?” Jim asked.
“I didn’t lose it,” Harley said. “I insured it.”
“Ahhh, so you are the doofus who insured the golden coffin,” Jim said.
“Yes,” Harley said. “I’m that doofus.”
“Very nice to meet you,” Jim said, joining the stream of traffic. “I have noticed that a black car is seemingly following us. He is not being obvious, and he is not with us always, but sometimes he is there.”
“Did you get a look at the driver?” Gabriela asked.
“Yes, when I was circling the block earlier today, while waiting for you to come out of the building, there was a single man in the car, and he had a scar on the side of his face. He was very dangerous looking.”
Gabriela took the AirTag out of her bag and threw it out the window. “I don’t need this anymore.”
Jim looked at her in his rearview mirror. “You are a strange lady.”
Fifteen minutes later, Jim parked on the sidewalk in front of a small restaurant. Street vendors mingled with pedestrians. Cats sat in doorways. A donkey cart was parked on the sidewalk across the street.
“This is it,” Jim said. “My cousin Hashi is expecting us.”
There were six tables in the restaurant.
They were all painted different colors. The blue table had a hand-printed Reserved sign on it.
The walls were covered with tapestries, religious prints, and a picture of Elvis Presley.
There was an open kitchen at the back of the restaurant.
A man and a woman were working over steaming pots and a griddle.
“This is our table,” Jim said. “I always like the blue table.”
“Do you eat here often?” Gabriela asked him.
“Oh yes. And I live in a nice apartment above.”
In minutes, the table was filled with food.
“You were right,” Gabriela said to Jim. “This is delicious.”
“How did it go with the cargo list?” Rafer asked Gabriela. “Did anything pop out at you?”
“There was a crate that was a good size. Seventy-five inches long, thirty inches wide, and sixty inches high. It was filled with equipment for a dig. Trowels, brushes, a folding table, and whatever. It was all listed out. It could have had a false bottom.”
“You would need two men working with screwdrivers,” Harley said. “And the equipment dig crate would have to be specially constructed so that access to the false bottom wasn’t obvious.”
“It’s a long shot,” Rafer said.
“There would need to be help in New York with the loading placement,” Jim said.
“Were there any other possibilities?” Rafer asked.
“There were two very large crates filled with furniture. Too large to have a false bottom. I suppose you could hide the coffin between a mattress and a box spring, but it would be much more difficult to access the larger crate.”
“If the plane had a full cargo load, there would be many people working to load and unload,” Jim said. “I have seen it. It is organized chaos.”
“Okay, so a crew comes in to load and unload,” Gabriela said.
“Suppose there was an empty crate that could hold two men. Maybe no one would notice the crew was two men short when the loading was complete. During the flight they could uncrate themselves and make the coffin switch. And then they would blend in with the crew in Cairo. Their crate would really be empty, and the two men could walk away.”
“Was there an empty crate on the list?” Rafer asked Gabriela.
“There were several,” Gabriela said. “All large enough to hold a couple men. And the cargo area of the plane was pressurized and heated, so a couple stowaways could survive the trip.”
Rafer rocked back in his chair. “Tell us the rest of it. Who claimed the crate for the dig, and where’s the dig located?”
“Edgar Merrick drove off with the crate. He’s a UK citizen working on a joint project with two universities.
One in the UK and one in Egypt. The dig is in the east desert, and it’s relatively new.
The only address given was in Arabic, and I couldn’t translate.
” Gabriela passed a slip of paper over to Jim. “This is the address.”
Jim looked at Rafer. “How did you know she would have this information? You must have worked together for a very long time.”
“We’ve only worked together for a very short time,” Rafer said. “We were married for what seemed like an eternity.”
“You are no longer married?”
“Not even a little,” Gabriela said. “But we have a common cause. It’s important that we find the golden coffin and return it to the museum.”
“So, this is not for personal gain,” Jim said. “This is a holy crusade.”
“Maybe not holy,” Rafer said.
“I’ve done some research,” Gabriela said.
“At one time, there were routes leading from the population centers and burial grounds to various mines at the eastern edge of the east desert. The large gold mines were located to the south in the Nubia region. Limestone and granite were quarried further north. Gemstones were sprinkled throughout.”
“So, Merrick is interested in one of these mines?” Rafer asked.
Gabriela shook her head. “No. There were settlements along the routes. Usually, they were a day’s walk apart. Some are still in use, but many of them have gotten lost to the desert. It sounds like Edgar Merrick might be digging at one of the lost settlements.”
“I have not personally been to this location,” Jim said, looking at the note Gabriela had given him, “but I know something about it. It is very remote, and the road wouldn’t be wonderful. If you are thinking of going there, it would be good to have a guide.”
“Have you tried calling Merrick?” Harley asked Gabriela.
“Yes,” Gabriela said. “No answer. And he doesn’t have a local address. Only what I gave to Jim. I found two other people associated with the project, but they’re in the UK and aren’t due to come to Egypt for another month. They suggested that I would find Merrick at the dig site.”
“So, we’re going to the dig site?” Rafer asked.
“Yes,” Gabriela said.
“Is this going to involve camels?” Harley asked. “I had a bad camel experience a couple years ago in India.”
“Egyptian camels are much superior to Indian camels in every way,” Jim said. “Still, you do not want to piss one off.”
“Do you know where I can find a guide?” Gabriela asked Jim.
“My cousin Apis is an excellent guide. He was in the military for some short time, and he is familiar with the east desert.”
“Is Apis his first name?”
“It is his chosen name that he only uses,” Jim said. “Apis is the name of a mythical dead bull thought to be Osiris. And as you know, Osiris is the god of fertility and agriculture, so this was a good choice for my cousin, although I would question the association with a dead bull.”