Missing in Egypt (20 page)

I felt as if the world was crushing down on me.
 
It was hard to breathe.
 
“Anna, Anna, are you there?
 
Are you okay?”
 
“Yes….yes I’m here” I managed to whisper.
 
“
What happened?
 
How did they kill him?
 
Have they arrested those responsible?”

“It wasn’t murder, Anna.
 
He just died.
 
He was in his hotel room and it seems he had an aneurism in the brain.
 
It could have been as a result of the knock on the head which led to his amnesia.
 
The doctor said it could have happened at any time but it just burst and bled into his brain and he died very quickly.
 
The hotel staff found him the next day.
 
Anna, I’m so sorry.
 
Is there someone I can call for your?”
 
I couldn’t think straight.
 
“No, no.…. I’ll be fine.
 
Thanks for letting me know, John” I managed to say.
 
“I’m going now but I’ll be in touch later”.
 
“Will you be alright
?
” John wanted to know. “Are you sure there isn’t someone you want me to call for you?”
 
“No, I’ll be fine” I replied. “I just need some time to think.”
 
“Call me if you need anything” John said, meaning it.
 
“I’ve already contacted Kareem’s mother and she is making arrangements for his body to be flown home.”

I sat there stunned.
 
I couldn’t think straight.
 
My mind wouldn’t accept that Kareem was dead.
 
How could he be when I had just got him back again?
 
Surely this was just some awful prank, a nightmare I would soon wake up from.
 
I couldn’t believe that I would never see him again, not touch him or hold him.
 
It wasn’t fair.
 
We had such a short time together.
 
Then I thought of his mother.
 
She had lost her husband, one son was missing and now this – her oldest son dead, killed whilst looking for his brother.
 
Yes, killed, because if he hadn’t taken the blow to the head over the ransom money he would still be alive.

The next few days passed in a daze.
 
I went to see Kareem’s mother and we cried together – two women locked in grief over the death of a man they both loved. The day of the funeral came and went – the funeral itself passed in a blur; many faces I didn’t know, but everyone was very kind and sympathetic.
 
The finality of watching the coffin being lowered gently into the ground was almost too much for me.
 
I let out a moan and Kareem’s mother squeezed my arm.
 
I went back to the house with her for the wake but after about an hour I excused myself and hurried back home.
 
As I bade my farewell Mrs Hazif hugged me tightly and begged me not to be a stranger.

As I cried myself to sleep that night – surprised I still had tears to shed – I came to a decision.
 
I could not let his death go unavenged.
 
I would return to
Egypt
and finish what Kareem had set out to do – find his brother.
 
I would not let him die for nothing.

The next morning, however, common sense returned.
 
What was a woman alone in
Egypt
going to achieve?
 
I was more likely to end up as just another missing persons’ statistic – particularly if Gahiji or his friends heard that I was still asking questions.
 
It was time to be a little smarter.

I had to try to work out where the antiquities would have been taken.
 
From the track marks it seemed a donkey and cart were used to transport them from the tomb back to the track that passed as a road.
 
The tyre marks belonged to quite a large truck and, if the tomb was untouched when they found it
,
the treasures would be numerous.
 
They would need to be taken to a large shed where they could be sorted and shipped out.
 
They would probably have needed a couple of
 
40’ containers.
 
Where could the goods have been taken, involving many trips over many weeks, without attracting any attention?

I channelled my energy and grief into work.
 
I spent long days at the office and came home exhausted but only slept for 3 or 4 hours.
 
Sandra was great – she came around as soon as I called her and rang each day to see if I was okay.
 
My spare time was spent trying to work out where the goods were being stored.
 
I poured over maps of
Egypt
and the Valley of the Queens/Deir el Medina area.
 
The latter was certainly quite deserted but there was nowhere big enough to store the goods without drawing

attention.
 
Eventually I came to the conclusion that they had to be somewhere out past Gahiji’s house.
 
If the track only led to his house and then on to the storage shed, there would be no reason for anyone to go out that way.
 
Assuming there was enough space to turn a large truck and 40’ container around, it would be possible to get the truck down there if it was driven carefully.
 
From there the containers could be taken to
Port Said
or even
Alexandria
to be shipped overseas without causing any great interest.

I called my good friend John Turner.
 
“John, I think they have to be holding the goods out past Gahiji’s house.
 
There must be a big shed out there and probably a couple of large shipping containers.
 
Can you get the police or authorities to go out and take a look?”
 
“I guess that’s possible” John replied
 
“I’ll take a run out the with the local police and see if there is anything
.
”
 
“I just hope they haven’t already moved them.” I responded.

As I put down the phone I thought how lucky I was that John would take me seriously and follow up on my idea.
 
I waited impatiently to hear back from him, cursing the time difference.

It was almost midnight when John rang back.
 
”Well, you were right about the big shed out past Gahiji’s, Anna” John told me.
 
“And you’ll be very pleased to know we have Ramy, Yasmeen and Masud.
 
They are all alive and safe!”

“Oh my goodness” I exclaimed.
 
“I can’t believe it.
 
You actually have them safe and well?
 
That’s such good news.
 
I am so excited!
 
If only Kareem were alive to hear those words”.
 
“I know, Anna.
 
But think of his mother’s excitement when you tell her Ramy is alive.”
 

“Oh, you are going to let me give her the news?
 
That’s wonderful.”
 
“If you contact her now, you will be the first to tell her.
 
We’ll make our official call in a few minutes”.
 
“Tell me more, John.
 
Where were they found?
 
What happened when you went to look for the shed?”

“Well, there were lots of tyre marks out past Gahiji’s.
 
He must have swept the road up to there because there were no tracks to his house.
 
The shed was well hidden in amongst some hills. We crept up on them and when I realised there were only two men guarding them we decided to move in ourselves.
 
They came quietly enough when they realised we had them at a disadvantage.
 
Ramy, Yasmeen and Masud had

been used as workers.
 
Yasmeen and her father were cataloguing the treasures and Ramy was the muscle, being used to stack the goods into one of two 40’ containers.
 
Unfortunately, we just missed the containers – they took them out the night before. There were only a few items left in the shed, which they were cleaning up and cataloguing.
 
I don’t know what would have happened to them if we had gone in any later – they no longer had any use for them.
 
I can only think they would have killed them to protect themselves.
 

Customs at the ports of
Alexandria
and
Port Said
were notified immediately and have arranged for searches of all containers leaving the ports. My guess is that they are already on the water on the way to their new overseas owners to be part of very expensive private collections.
 
However, Customs will continue to monitor for any unusual shipments over the next couple of weeks, just in case they did not have ships alrea
dy lined up for the containers.”

Whilst I felt very sorry for the Egyptian government who had lost out on these important antiquities my main thought was that Ramy was still alive and that Yasmeen and Masud were also okay.
 
How happy Mrs Hazif and Waleed would be!

“On the way back we picked up Gahiji.
 
They have all been interviewed extensively but at this point none will admit that anyone else was involved.
 
Gahiji has admitted that he had heard of the tomb from his father and it was he who had known about Masud’s father and made inquiries about Masud.
 
When he found he was involved in the antiques business we assume he then contacted Mohammed, whoever he is, to take the matter further. He obviously thought it was worth a visit to
Cairo
to check out Masud and his shop. Gahiji has made no admissions regarding you and Kareem and I don’t think he is likely to do so. The authorities will continue to work on him to find out who this Mohammed is and who else was involved.
 
Rashidi and Mosi were just the foot soldiers but they will also keep working on them to see if they know who Mohammed is, but at the moment they are denying all knowledge of him.”
 

I hung up from John to make that important phone call to Ramy’s mother.
 
She was, of course, crying and laughing at the same time, so happy to know that at least one of her sons was coming back to her.
 
After promising to go around and have a meal with them one day next week I put through a call to Yasmeen’s mother.
 
Again, there was much laughter and crying and Waleed was very grateful to me for making good use of the information she had passed on to me.
 

A few days later I had a call from Ramy’s mother, inviting me for dinner.
 
Apparently Yasmeen and Masud had returned to their home and Ramy, having visited his aunt and uncle, had arrived back in
Australia
.
 
Yasmeen was to follow on in a couple of weeks.
 
This would give her a chance to see
Australia
and meet Mrs Hazif.

It was over dinner that Ramy told us all about his exploits.
 
He had already filled his mother in regarding Yasmeen and their courtship, their kidnapping and finding the secret tomb filled with treasures.
 
Tonight he picked up the story from the point at which they had emptied the tomb.

4.
Ramy’s Story Continues

“The last of the treasures from the secret tomb had been loaded on the truck.
 
Up until now we had not been involved in the unloading and didn’t know where they were taking the treasures.
 
We assumed Gahiji was helping Mosi unload. At this point I had grave concerns for our safety as I could see that once the tomb was empty we would no longer be needed.
 
Masud and I had talked about it one night when Yasmeen was asleep and Gahiji was outside.
 
We knew we needed a plan – we would have to find a way to escape before our usefulness was over.
 
Neither of us could come up with much – our best chance seemed to be to wait until there was only one person guarding us, to overpower him and then make a run for it.
 
Masud knew the area a little.
 
His car would still be parked where he left it but Rashidi had taken the keys off him immediately.
 
We had checked in the little house and could find no trace of them so he had obviously taken them away somewhere we would never find them.
 
That ruled out making our escape in the car.
 
Masud knew that Queen
Hatshepsut’s
temple was somewhere over the hills behind us and that if we made it to there the chances were good there would be tour buses and tourists there and we would be safe.
 
The only problem – and the reason why we had not tried it before – was they always had a gun with them.
 
However we knew there would come a day when we would just have to take our chances.