Four Ways to Pharaoh Khufu (30 page)

“Now, Fischer found the stele hidden inside the Great Pyramid and tried to sell it to smugglers. He needed the money to pay off some gambling debts. But, luckily, your father intervened and the sale never took place. At first Fisher denied all the accusations and blamed everything on your father, Miss. But then we showed him the footage taken from several surveillance cameras, which clearly showed that the real thief was Fisher himself. He begged for mercy and revealed that one night Schulze came to his hotel room in Alexandria, and they had gotten really drunk together. He blacked out, but when he woke up the following morning, the stele had vanished. He thinks that Schulze drugged him while they were drinking and took the stele. Detective, can you please tell them what we have found out so far?”

“Yes,” said Detective Hussein, “we reviewed the hotel surveillance cameras where Fischer was staying and confirmed that Schulze left the hotel at midnight carrying something heavy wrapped in a cloth. He put it in the trunk of his rental car and drove away. The next footage showed him coming back at five o’clock in the morning with nothing in his hands.”

“Well, that doesn’t prove anything,” said Michael, “he probably wanted to protect the stele from Fischer.”

“We are not excluding that option, but the stele is still missing. Unfortunately, the only person who knows its location was your father, Miss.

“Did Fischer kill my father?” asked Anna.

“Unlikely,” this time the Inspector replied.

“But he didn’t die of a heart attack, did he?” The Inspector glanced at the Detective. “Please, tell me the truth!” Anna cried.

“Miss, your father was poisoned,” the Inspector said quietly.

“I knew it!” exclaimed Michael. “He told me he’d been poisoned. I knew he hadn’t been hallucinating. So, Fischer poisoned him?”

“No,” the detective said, “Someone else.”

“Who then?” asked Anna, furrowing her brows.

The Detective and the Inspector looked at each other. “It’s still under investigation,” the Detective replied firmly.

“Now,” said the Inspector. “Do you happen to know an Egyptian by the name of Asim?”

“Inspector,” Michael stated carefully, “you and Detective Hussein are the only Egyptians we know.”

“Do you always reply for Miss Schulze as well?”

“Inspector, this is Anna’s first visit to Egypt.”

“I’m well aware of that, but I’m investigating this man’s disappearance from about three days ago …”

“Inspector,” Michael interrupted him, “three days ago we weren’t in this country. You know all too well that we just arrived in Egypt this afternoon.”

The Inspector looked angry, but continued calmly, “Three days ago the Medjay warrior Asim disappeared in Moscow, Russia. Before he traveled to Russia, he was in Berlin, Germany.” The Inspector paused and looked directly at each of them before continuing, “I know you two were in Berlin and traveled to Moscow before flying to Egypt. We have Fischer’s signed confession.” He looked at Anna, “Your mother told him your whereabouts.”

“Inspector,” Anna said calmly, although her heart was racing, “you’re absolutely right. We were in Berlin because it’s my hometown. We did travel to Russia to meet one of my old college friends, but I never met any Egyptians there.”

The Inspector turned to the detective, “Show them the photograph.” The detective opened up his briefcase and quickly retrieved a photograph.

“He’s a hard one to miss,” said the detective, displaying the photograph. They both looked studiously at the picture.

“No sir,” Michael said with an assured tone of voice.

“No,” concurred Anna.

“Very well,” said the Inspector. “Before we leave I want to let you know that the stele has not been found yet. And even though your father,” the Inspector turned to Anna, “wasn’t the one who stole it, he certainly was the one who hid it. So I’m going to ask you one last question.” He looked directly into her eyes. “Do you possess any information that could help us find the stele?”

Anna thought and shook her head. “No, I’m sorry.”

“OK, very well, we are not going to waste any more of your time, but keep in mind that you didn’t get shot today only because we intervened. Your luck could run out if you know something and don’t disclose it to us.” Anna and Michael nodded solemnly. Satisfied, the Inspector walked to the door.

Michael walked over and opened the door. “Good night, Inspector,” he said as they briskly walked out the door. “Have a good evening detective,” he added.

The Inspector reached into his shirt pocket and handed Michael a card, “Here is my contact information. If you need me, give me a call.”

Michael took the card, thanked them and shut the door. He stood there for a moment, listening. Then, he locked the door and turned back to Anna, whispering, “We’ve gotta find that stele and clear your father’s name.” He walked over and sat on the bed next to her. “First thing tomorrow morning, we’ll head over to the Great Pyramid.”

“Right,” Anna replied. “This way we can check Kirilov’s theory and maybe find a clue to where the stele is located. Maybe he put it back inside the Great Pyramid.”

“I hope you’re right. But we have to be careful; the Inspector knows about the Medjay.”

“Do you think the Inspector sent him to kill us?” asked Anna, getting the shivers.

“Doubtfully, but who knows?”

After sitting in silence for a few moments, Michael perked up, “Enough of that! Right now, I would like to invite you to the famous Barrel Bar on the next floor. I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving!” Anna laughed, jumping up from the bed and walking to the bathroom. “I’ll be ready in a minute.”

Chapter 45

Windsor Hotel, Cairo, Egypt

Monday, September 25

6:48 p.m.

A
s Inspector Suliman and Detective Hussein stepped out of the ancient elevator and into the elegant lobby, the Inspector’s phone rang. “Inspector Suliman.”

“Hello, Inspector.”

The hoarse voice of his old friend, the Chief of the Medjay warrior tribe was impossible to confuse with anybody else’s. “Chief Jibade, glad to hear from you!”

“Inspector, I hear you had a peculiar twist in the search for our missing stele.”

Surprised, the Inspector paused. He replied, “Yes, the German Schulze was not the thief, and the real thief is another German by the name of Fischer.”

“That news already reached me.”

How
? The Inspector wondered, saying, “Oh?”

“Did you find the stele?” asked the Chief, impatience creeping into his voice. “My people are getting a bit suspicious. It will be difficult for me to keep this from them for much longer. I hope you won’t let me down, old friend.”

The Inspector walked away from the lobby, hoping for a bit more privacy. “Chief, we’re getting closer. Give me three more days.”

“Fine. But after three days I will have no other choice but to go to the media. You will have a national scandal on your hands. In fact, this case could end up in more authoritative ones … such as Inspector Moustafa.”

“Chief, you know I need this case … please.”

“Three days,” the Chief stated sternly. “And one more thing, did you ask the American and Schulze’s daughter about the disappearance of my fearless warrior, Asim, in Moscow?”

“I showed them the picture, but they claim they didn’t know him.”

“Inspector, I thought that you had sophisticated ways of persuading people to talk,” said the Chief, chuckling quietly.

Startled, the Inspector spoke tensely, “I will not interrogate German and especially not American nationals and have an international incident on my hands in return. I told you: three days and you will get your stele back.”

“Fine.”

“And one more thing, Chief,” the Inspector’s voice became sharper, “if you sent one of your Medjay killers to follow those two, then whatever happened to him lies on you! It’s your hands that are stained with his blood. And let me remind you that here in Egypt, I’m the law. I intend to protect the lives of every foreign national who comes to visit. Tourism is our country’s main livelihood.”

“Don’t forget our deadline,” said the Chief, abruptly hanging up.

Frustrated and concerned about the Chief’s motives, the Inspector turned to Detective Hussein. “Detective Hussein, I want your men following our guests’ every move. If something comes up, I want to be personally informed immediately!”

“Yes, Inspector,” said the Detective. He removed his police radio and started barking several orders into it. The Inspector was deep in thought. The Detective nodded at his Inspector.

As they walked outside, the Inspector said, “Detective, please gather all the possible information you can find on the Medjay tribe activities and especially Chief Jibade.”

“Yes, Inspector.”

“Something is not right here. Chief Jibade knows certain details that he couldn’t possibly know. I want to know his source.”

“Inspector, do you really expect Schulze’s daughter and the American to call you?”

“Oh, I’m sure of that. Knowing the tactics my friend Jibade uses, it won’t be long.” After making his dire prediction, the Inspector got inside his police vehicle and sped away from the hotel.

Chapter 46

Windsor Hotel, Cairo, Egypt

Tuesday, September 26

5:00 a.m.

A
t precisely five o’clock the next morning, Michael was abruptly awakened. Sleepy and dazed, he lifted his head from the pillow. The alarming sound of the muezzin, the one appointed to call the faithful to prayer, blared from a nearby minaret and seemed to be echoing over the entire city. Two hours and a brief continental breakfast later, Michael and Anna were boarding the tour bus, “Sakkara Tours.”

On the way to the pyramids, their delightful tour guide, Hatima, educated her thirty tourists about the Great Pyramid’s known facts with her soft, soothing voice. Everyone listened with genuine interest as Hatima reported the standard information on which modern Egyptology stands today: the Great Pyramid was ransacked in ancient times of which you can personally be convinced after glancing at the empty lidless sarcophagus; it was constructed with the aid of the mounds or by supplying the blocks on the steps of the already constructed part; the Great Pyramid was built by using 2.3 million limestone blocks; the mentioning by the Father of History
,
Herodotus, of an underground island, on which allegedly stands the sarcophagus with the mummy of the Pharaoh Khufu, is nothing more than a fairy tale.

On his first trip to Egypt, Michael had been completely satisfied with the tour guide’s information. But that was last week. Now things were different. “Can you believe it?” Michael whispered to Anna, visibly frustrated. “I heard that same nonsense last week and it hasn’t changed a bit.”

“Michael,” said Anna, looking directly into his eyes, “you are forgetting that we are the only ones who know the real story, which nobody is going to believe unless we find solid evidence about what we heard from Kirilov.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Michael agreed, sighing. The tour bus pulled over in front of the northeastern side of the pyramid site. “Give me a minute, I want to speak to our tour guide.”

“Don’t do it, Michael,” Anna said as he got up. As she passed him on her way out, Anna murmured, “She’s not gonna believe you anyway.”

Michael started describing to Hatima just a small part of what he had heard from Kirilov. Halima displayed polite interest; however, she doubted Michael’s intention of visually verifying something inside the Great Pyramid.

“Let’s be realistic,” Hatima said doubtfully. “After Caliph Al-Mamun broke into the inner hollows of the Great Pyramid, it was repeatedly rummaged in all possible ways. Millions of tourists come here every year, stepping on the same passages as millions prior to them. If there was something out of the ordinary, I’m pretty sure somebody from the crowd of tourists, guides, scientists and Egyptologists would notice something, right?” she paused, staring skeptically at Michael.

Michael noticed the skepticism in her voice. But her point definitely made sense. Millions and millions of people had visited the Great Pyramid throughout time, extensively in the last two centuries. Any realistic person would definitely agree that if there was something hidden inside the Great Pyramid, it would have been found already. Michael decided there was no point in arguing, at least, not yet. He thanked the tour guide and soon caught up to Anna.

“How did it go?” she asked with a snicker.

“Well, pretty much the way you predicted,” he replied gloomily. “And I know what you wanna say.”

Anna slowed down and gazed at him. “Really?”

“I told you so,” said Michael, mimicking Anna’s voice.

Anna chuckled.

“Well, at least she told me the magic word,” Michael commented as they continued walking toward the three big pyramids.

“What’s that?”

“She helped me come up with a reasonable amount of
baksheesh
to offer in negotiations with the pyramid’s guards.”

“Backsplash?” Anna asked, smiling.

“No, silly,” Michael grinned, “we are not trying to remodel your kitchen here. Baksheesh is an Arabic word meaning a tip or a little extra payment for exceptional service. Hatima explained to me that Egyptians are very proud people, so they refuse to beg. Instead, they operate under a powerful concept called baksheesh, which loosely translated means, ‘share the wealth.’”

“Basically, it’s a bribe, right?”

“Well, more like an aggressive form of tipping. Kind of like, you’ve got it and I don’t, so give some of whatever you got to me. Hatima told me that baksheesh could be taken to ridiculous heights. For example, if you ask directions from someone on the street, chances are that person will expect baksheesh. Since nobody begs, the idea of a welfare system seems insulting to Egyptians. They earn their money, no matter how little the money or the work. I wish that idea existed back home in the States.”

“So how is baksheesh going to help us?”

“Hopefully it will unlock some tightly closed doors,” Michael answered mysteriously.

At the ticket office they stood in line and purchased their coveted tickets, as only 300 tourists are allowed in the Great Pyramid each day. As they walked away from the lines, Michael said, “From now on, I will go alone. I’ll have a better chance to negotiate with the security guard,” he said pointing to the guard who stood in front of the gated entrance.

“I understand,” Anna said quietly. “I’ll be waiting for you here in the shade.

“Excellent.”

“Just promise me something.” Anna paused as her eyes filled with tears.

“Anything, just name it.”

“Promise me that you’ll show me where my father died.”

“Dear Anna,” Michael tenderly placed his hand on Anna’s shoulder. “I will take you there, I promise.”

Anna nodded her head and turned to find a seat in the shade. Michael looked at the Great Pyramid looming above him in the morning sun and started walking.

“Be careful!” she shouted as Michael started climbing the stairs.

“I will!” Michael called back to her.

There are two entrances almost next to each other on the northern side of the Great Pyramid: Al-Mamun’s and the original entrance. In 820 A.D. Caliph Al-Mamun’s workers dug the entrance where tourists are allowed to enter today. This tunnel is aptly named the ‘Robber’s Tunnel.’ The pyramid’s original entrance is located higher and to the left of Al-Mamun’s.

When Michael arrived at the top of the stairs at the Robber’s Tunnel, he was greeted by the sight of a sleepy ticket collector donned in a mustard-colored
galabeya
, a traditional Islamic shirt lengthened all the way to the feet. Michael handed the man his ticket and took a deep breath before diving into the millennial gloom.

It was his second journey inside the Great Pyramid within a week’s period, but this time was different. Instead of blindly stepping over the beaten path, Michael took baby steps as he ran his palms along the tunnel’s walls in a pat-down motion.

After about ninety feet the tunnel turned sharply left, where it met some stones that blocked its continuation. Al-Mamun’s workers had been unable to move the stones, so they had dug around them. This passageway continued toward the Ascending Passage. It is at this point where the Descending Passage connects with the Ascending Passage. The original entrance leading into the Descending Passage is blocked. The ticket purchased in the kiosk does not give the visitor the right to enter the Descending Passage leading to the grotto. It only allows the purchaser to go upward to the King’s and Queen’s chambers.

Al-Mamun’s passage was rough as it twisted like a snake-shaped tunnel into the interior of the pyramid. It was in complete contrast with the smooth passages of the rest of the pyramid. Michael decided to crawl under the low arches of Al-Mamun’s passage in order to completely perceive the contrast.
What a bonanza that I returned here,
he thought as he suddenly noticed one additional and very important difference between the two passages. The walls and ceiling of Al-Mamun’s passage were coarse from the forceful use of chisels and hammers. Michael turned and looked at the two passages that almost converged near the end of Al-Mamun’s hacked entrance.

The walls and the ceilings of the Descending and Ascending Passages seemed virtually polished in comparison to Al-Mamun’s. Looking closely, Michael was able to observe the surface of the original passages. He noticed some distinguished notches and small chippings, but they were strikingly different from Al-Mamun’s as there was only some trifling roughness.

What does this difference signify?
Al-Mamun’s workers revealed what could be achieved by digging through the thickness of the limestone even though their chisels and hammers were made of the finest Damascus steel. The builders of the Great Pyramid, however, used primitive copper and granite tools. If they were digging in the limestone in the same manner as Al-Mamun’s workers, they would have been unable to attain the smooth surface finish.

For a second, Michael imagined himself back inside Kirilov’s apartment surrounded by Kirilov’s comforting voice. “Remember, the ancient Egyptians cut their future passages on the exposed surface of the limestone rock. During the construction stages of the Great Pyramid these passages served as inclined flat surfaces in order to transport multi-ton limestone blocks in the upward direction.”

Michael pondered the skepticism he had met back at the tour bus with the tour guide. Yes, it went against common sense to think that more could possibly be found after millions had passed here before him. But Michael was the first one armed with Kirilov’s hypothesis and it worked perfectly.

Well, now what? Upward, according to the purchased tickets or downward where the way is shielded by the locked iron gate?
He did not hesitate. Squaring his shoulders he commenced climbing to the entrance currently barred to the general public.

The guard watching over the Descending Passage saw Michael and winked understandably several times, signaling for him to wait. A group of tourists from Italy came through and then disappeared past the turning point. When the guard and Michael were alone at last, the guard whispered the magic word, “Baksheesh.”

“How much?” Michael asked quickly.

“100 Egyptian pounds.”

Michael shook his head and started to turn, as if to go back to the Ascending Passage.

The guard grabbed Michael’s hand, “OK, agreed, seventy-five pounds.”

“No.”

Their bargaining ceased as they heard steps approaching from above. The guard signaled Michael to quickly get inside Al-Mamun’s passage as another guard passed by. After the second guard walked away, the guard called Michael back. As Michael approached the guard, he discretely displayed a fifty-pound banknote.

As the tour guide had explained earlier, if he were to bribe the guard with 1,000 American dollars, it would instantly raise suspicions. The guard would be hesitant to let a stranger pass to the closed area in fear of some elaborate scheme. By offering the guard a relatively small amount of money and pretending that he was just a curious tourist, he would not raise the guard’s suspicions.

The guard grabbed the bill, tucked it away and reached out to help Michael climb over the gate. Michael could see the steps leading downward in the half-darkness. As it was necessary to step carefully inside the tiny grooves alongside the stairs, the guard carefully placed Michael’s foot inside the first one.

“Quickly!” the guard commanded when Michael was only a few feet away. Michael nodded, although he knew his journey would be anything but quick. As soon as he passed behind the turning point, the seemingly infinite Descending Passage opened up in front of him, faintly illuminated by a smooth garland of electric lamps attached to one side. Michael spun back around to take a final look back toward the entrance of the pyramid. Through the gaps in the iron gate he could see the celestial blue sky. That was the exact point from where it was possible to observe the Polar Star according to Piazzi Smyth, or the North Star Alpha Draconis according to the astronomer Richard Proctor.

Bending down into a duck-walking position, Michael began his descent. About 130 feet down the passage Michael suddenly found himself able to stand up straight.
Hmmm, I don’t remember any book mentioning this.
The unknown
cocoon
, as Michael decided to call it, was unfortunately located in a dark niche between the lights. As he reached up, his hands rubbed against the ceiling’s friable clay. The cocoon soon became narrow both overhead and along the sides of the passage.

Finally, the descent was over. At this point, Michael was underground where the horizontal passage of the Subterranean Chamber began. Michael estimated it was about twenty feet to the Lesser Subterranean Chamber. He was halfway there when …

Blackout!

The few seconds that passed by felt like an eternity. Inside the vast abyss of darkness Michael felt the gloom enveloping him.

“Quickly!” the guard shouted from above.

That meant Michael’s fifty Egyptian pounds had run its course already
. I want to get to the well. I might not get a second chance
. He kept quiet, thinking that the guard would not force him to climb back up in the darkness.

The lights turned back on.

Michael rejoiced and continued his journey until he noticed a visible crack, approximately four inches wide, running all the way across the floor, walls and the ceiling. It was entirely filled in with clay-like material.
With mountains of books written about the Great Pyramid, why was this crack never mentioned?
As he admired the crack encircling him, his mind returned to Kirilov’s cozy apartment.

“It is rather strange,” said Kirilov, “that Egyptologists were never puzzled by the fact that one of the horizontal sections of the Subterranean Chamber is shorter than the other. It is widely known that the ancient Egyptian’s way of rationalization was based on symmetry. However, if you look closely at the diagram of the internal hollows of the Great Pyramid, the Subterranean Chamber was situated at about the axis of symmetry. If we were to continue the Descending Passage until it intersected with the well, then this line would to lead us to the plug. Now from this point on, continuing at the same angle of twenty-six degrees and thirty-four minutes, mentally picture the line extending to the opposite side. It would cross the horizontal passage of the Subterranean Chamber exactly in the middle, leaving the remaining section of the chamber to be twenty-six feet long. In this exact point, on the ceiling of the Dead-end Passage, must be a well-hidden plug closing off the other, undiscovered Inclined Passage. This hidden, Inclined Passage would lead upward until it intersected with the former road coming off the water basin. At this point is the beginning of the original path that leads to Pharaoh Khufu’s tomb. Obviously, it is hidden from the eyes.”