The Mummy Case (3 page)

“What's that?”

“In my country,” Salim explained, “mummies were ground up in the days gone by. Mummy powder was supposed to cure a lot of ailments. I have some here in the museum to display in my lectures on the mummies of Egypt.”

He gave the cup to Colden. “What do you think?”

“Looks like mummy powder all right,” his colleague confirmed.

“But could it have such an effect on you?” Joe asked. “It doesn't sound like a poison.”

Salim shook his head. “It's quite harmless. But perhaps there's something else in our cups!”

“Let's go up to the lab and ask for an analysis of the coffee,” William Colden suggested.

“Good idea,” Frank said. “Do you feel well enough to come with us, Mr. Salim?”

“I'd rather stay here and rest,” the Egyptian said with a weak smile. “If you don't mind.”

“Of course not. Are you okay, Mr. Colden?”

“Yes. I feel a bit light-headed, but I'll show you where the lab is.”

The boys followed the assistant curator up one flight to the large museum laboratory. A red-haired man in a white lab coat pushed his glasses up on his forehead and smiled when they entered. “What can I do for you?”

Joe placed the two cups on a bench. “Tell us. what's in here.”

The chemist peered into the cups. “Coffee,” he said.

“We know. But it was laced with something that made both Mr. Colden and Mr. Salim pass out.”

“Not only that,” Frank added, “Mr. Salim became aggressive before losing consciousness. Does that suggest anything to you?”

The chemist whistled. “It sounds like heliomin. It's a brand-new chemical compound we use in our work. If ingested, it can cause drastic personality changes, and the victim may go berserk. I've warned everyone about that and told the staff to be careful with the stuff.”

“Does it have any lasting effects?” Frank asked worriedly, thinking about Najeeb Salim.

“Not that I know of. But let me test the coffee first to be sure it's heliomin.” The chemist took the two cups and examined them closely. “Seems there's a little mummy powder in here, too.”

Colden nodded. “The culprit must have added it as the final touch!” he said ironically.

The chemist took some coffee from one of the cups with an eyedropper and squeezed it into a test tube. Drawing a light-colored liquid from a jar, he allowed one drop to fall into the tube. The mixture became colorless. The same happened when the second cup was tested.

“It's heliomin all right,” he confirmed. “Where on earth did you get that coffee?”

“From the kitchen,” Colden replied.

The chemist was greatly alarmed. “This is a very serious matter! You have to report it—”

“I'll take care of it, Jim,” Colden interrupted. “We don't want to cause any panic. Besides, I've a feeling it's related to the thefts that took place a week ago. Frank and Joe Hardy here are investigating the case. So I'd appreciate it if you'd keep the whole thing under your hat for the time being.”

“If you say so,” the chemist agreed reluctantly. “But I hope you realize how serious this is!”

“I certainly do!” Colden said sharply. “Remember, I got a dose of this stuff! He turned to the boys. ”Come on, let's go down to the kitchen.“

The trio went back to the elevator and rode to the first floor. They found Norma Jones in a small galley where she prepared food and drink for the museum staff. Frank asked her where the coffee had come from that she had served to Colden and Najeeb Salim.

She pointed to a large urn bubbling on the counter. “From there, as always. Any complaints?”

“Yes,” Frank said. “The coffee was laced with heliomin and mummy powder. Knocked out Mr. Colden and Mr. Salim. Do you know anything about it?”

Norma Jones went ashen white. “Why—why of course not! Why are you asking me?”

“You made the coffee. ”

“Sure, but I didn't put anything in it. Not even cream and sugar!”

“Were you in the kitchen all the time?” Joe asked.

“Of course not. I've other work to do, you know. I clean certain areas of the museum and I'm in charge of supplies. Besides, I served coffee from that pot to other people, and no one has complained!”

She turned to Colden in great agitation. “Why are you accusing me? I don't even know what heliomin is!”

“Calm down, Norma,” the assistant curator said gently. “No one's accusing you. We're just trying to find out what happened. Tell me, did you bring the cups right up after you poured them?”

Norma shook her head. “No. I had two orders at the same time. One cup for Mr. Molina in the Accounting Department, and two for you. I served Mr. Molina first because he's right next door.”

“Then somebody could have sneaked in here and drugged the coffee for Mr. Salim and myself!” Colden declared.

“That's what must have happened,” Norma agreed. “You do believe me, don't you, Mr. Colden?”

“Of course, Norma. We'll investigate the matter at once, but if word leaks out it might hamper our search for the culprit. So please keep quiet about the incident, will you?”

“Sure,” Norma said. “I want you to find out that I had nothing to do with it!”

The assistant curator and the Hardys left the kitchen and returned to Mr. Wilcox's office. On the way, they discussed the frightening incident.

“If someone put heliomin and the mummy powder into the cups while Norma was out of the kitchen, how come she didn't notice the powder when she brought the coffee upstairs?” Joe said.
“We
saw it!”

“After you looked closely,” Colden reminded him. “She had no reason to do that.”

Najeeb Salim was still resting on the couch when the trio entered. He was pale and complained about chest pains.

“We'll take you to the doctor,” Frank volunteered.

The Egyptian nodded gratefully. “I have a heart ailment, and this seems to have aggravated it,” he said.

Joe turned to Colden. “Would you like to come along, too?”

Colden shook his head. “I feel all right now. You go ahead and I'll continue with my preparations for the mummy's departure.”

The Hardys drove Salim to his doctor. After being examined, the assistant curator came into the waiting room, greatly upset.

“The doctor wants me to go to the hospital for a few days,” he said. “He thinks the drug might have affected my heart condition. Do you realize what this means? I won't be able to go to Egypt and deliver the mummy!”

Joe put a hand on his arm. “Mr. Salim, your health is more important. We'll take you right to the hospital and then report to Mr. Colden. He'll find someone else to escort the coffin to Egypt.”

Salim shrugged. “You're right. I have no choice. Thanks for being so helpful. Would you mind stopping off at my house so I can pick up a few things?”

“Of course not,” Frank said.

It took less than an hour to deliver the assistant curator to the hospital. When he was signed in, and the boys were about to leave, Frank suddenly stopped short. “I think we should call Mr. Wilcox at the airport,” he said. “If we're lucky, we'll still catch him.”

They found a public telephone booth and had the curator paged. His plane had been delayed, and he was still in the terminal. He was disturbed about the events at the museum and worried about Salim's illness.

“If I didn't have this speaking engagement I'd come right back,” he said. “As for Najeeb, of course he can't travel under the circumstances. But I can't spare Colden either. He's in charge while Mr. Salim and I are away. Say, would you boys be willing to make the voyage in Najeeb's place? The museum will reimburse you for all your expenses.”

“I suppose we could go,” Frank replied. “We'll have to check with our father. What about the theft investigation?”

“We'll have to find someone else,” Wilcox said.

“I have an idea,” Frank put in. “Sam Radley, our father's operative, might be able to help out. Do you want us to give him a call?”

“That would be fine. Please arrange everything with Mr. Colden.” The curator hung up.

Frank and Joe returned to the museum and discussed their plans with William Colden. He was relieved to hear that the mummy transport could proceed as planned and promised to cooperate with Sam Radley on the theft investigation. Luckily Radley could be reached and agreed to report to the museum the following morning.

By now most of the staff had already left because it was well after closing time. Colden looked worn and tired. “I wonder if you could do me a favor before returning to Bayport,” he asked.

“Sure,” Frank said. “What is it?”

“I don't want to leave the mummy unguarded tonight. I was going to stay here, but I feel pretty woozy. Do you think you could take over for me?”

“No problem,” Frank stated. “We'll be glad to stay till tomorrow.”

“Where do we sleep?” Joe asked.

“Right next to the mummy. We'll set up a couple of cots for you. ”

After dinner in a nearby restaurant, the assistant curator led the way to the elevator, down to the basement, and to the mummy case. A single light bulb in the ceiling threw a lurid glare over the figure of the pharaoh on the lid, accentuating the stare of the black eyes.

The curator opened the coffin. “Everything's all right,” he declared. “Tomorrow we fasten the case, wrap it in protective cloth, and have it sealed in a crate.”

A thought struck Joe. “Mr. Colden, when Sam Radley takes over our investigation tomorrow, ask him to keep an eye on Ahmed Ali. I still think he's involved in the thefts.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. That won't be possible.”

“Why not?”

“Ali seems to have disappeared!”

“What!” Frank and Joe were flabbergasted.

“You boys were right in suspecting Ali,” Colden went on. “He left the museum early this afternoon, and when I called his boardinghouse, his landlady told me he had paid her and taken off without leaving a forwarding address.”

“Did you inform the police?” Frank asked.

“Yes, I did,” Colden replied. “They're looking for him now.”

The assistant curator pulled a couple of cots from a shelf, and the Hardys helped him set them up on either side of the mummy case. Then he tossed some blankets at them. “It isn't the Ritz, but it's the best we can do under the circumstances,” he apologized.

“We'll be all right,” Frank assured him.

“Good. Then I'll turn out all the lights and lock the door. And thanks for doing me the favor.”

Colden disappeared up the stairs. A moment later the Hardys heard the front door slam. Then silence descended over the museum.

Frank and Joe sat down on the cots with the mummy in between.

“What do you suppose our roommate's thinking?” Joe asked.

Frank stretched. “I don't know and I don't care. I'm tired.” He lay back on the cot with his hands behind his head.

“This is a creepy place,” Joe complained.

“Well, put the light out and you'll forget all about it. I just hope the pharaoh doesn't snore.”

“Or walk in his sleep,” Joe grumbled. The darkness seemed to close in on him. On the floor above, the idols of ancient Egypt kept their vigil, as they had for centuries on the banks of the Nile in the temples of gods. The mummy lay in its case next to the Hardys, and Joe could imagine the artificial eyes staring upward. The basement stairs creaked, and the boy raised his head to listen. But silence fell again. Joe lay back and soon was sound asleep.

A hand closing on his shoulder brought him awake with a start. A light shone on him and he raised a hand to shield his eyes. Then a face pushed forward toward his.

It was a mummy! Two black eyes glared at Joe through the bandages swathing the head. Its body was clothed in the long gown of an Egyptian pharaoh, and in its hand it held a Nile cobra with upraised head, spreading hood, and bared fangs!

The figure laughed in a high pitch that made Joe's flesh crawl. Then the light went out and the boy heard footsteps ascending the stairs. He jumped out of his cot in a wide arc to avoid the snake if it was there, shouted a warning to Frank, and followed the mummy as quickly as he could in the darkness.

He rushed through the door at the top of the stairs and found himself in the museum's main room. It was bright with moonlight slanting through the windows. The intruder tried to hide behind a tall stone statue of Osiris, the Egyptian god of the underworld. But when Joe spotted him, he made a dash for the front door.