is.’
‘Here you go again,’ sighed
Mr Big. ‘It’s written in the stars. You’re a bit like a broken
record. Now don’t get me wrong, old boy, you’re a nice fella and all
that – remind me a bit of my own pa. He was a bit confused too. The Nile Ruby?
Egypt?’ Mr Big shook his head. ‘Look around you. Check out the view
from your window. It ain’t Egypt
out there. It’s a maximum-security prison. And I hate to be the bearer of bad
news, but the truth is that you’re stuck in here till the day you
die.’
EGYPT, JULY 1953
The gale howled outside. The old man
consulted his black book once more. ‘Booby traps,’ he hissed. ‘Be
very careful.’ He pointed to a small rock set into the cave ceiling.
His son moved into position and handed
the candle to his father. He reached up and pushed at the jutting rock.
‘Nothing!’
‘Push harder,’ urged the old
man. ‘After three thousand years it’s going to be stiff.’
The young man shifted position to get a
better grip. He reached upwards and grabbed the rock. He grimaced as he heaved his
shoulders upwards. The rock disappeared into the cave ceiling and there was a
rumbling to their right. A small hole appeared. The old man was rejuvenated, almost
skipping towards the hole. He reached his hand in and felt for the lever. He pulled.
The back of the cave slid open, revealing a dark tunnel.
‘Just as
the book says,’ he grinned.
They doubled their candle power. The
younger man swigged the last of his water and they entered the tunnel.
They edged along, cupping the flames
with one hand and feeling in the semi-darkness with the other. Eventually the
passage widened out and they were relieved to be able to stand up. ‘This must
be Qua’a’s cave,’ gasped the old man, shining his candle at the
parchment. He pressed his candle to a torch on the wall and a larger flame was lit.
Both men gawped. They were in a much bigger cave. A large tomb took centre stage,
the skeleton of Qua’a’s servant sitting in a chair nearby. The cave was
full of treasures. The flames reflected off golden goblets and silver headdresses.
Gold coins were hanging from the ceiling, glinting like the night-time stars. All of
Qua’a’s worldly possessions had been stored here, in readiness for the
afterlife.
The young man couldn’t control his
excitement. ‘Just as it says in the book,’ he yelled, his enthusiasm
bouncing off the walls. ‘Riches beyond anyone’s wildest imagination! But
the Nile Ruby, the biggest treasure of them all, is in the tomb with
Qua’a.’ He rushed towards the tomb.
‘No!’
shouted his father, running after him. But it was too late. The young man’s
foot caught on the tripwire. He fell to the floor and the arrow fired over his head
and thudded into his father. The young man crawled over and rolled him on to his
back. The old man managed a smile and a nod. ‘The Nile Ruby … my
life’s work is now your life’s work,’ he whispered with his last
breath.
The young man wiped away a tear and a
yell
of despair echoed round
Qua’a’s cave. His father had come so far and yet was not going to see
his dream fulfilled. Qua’a’s treasures had meant very little: the only
thing that mattered was the Nile Ruby and now he would never get to see it. The
young man looked down at his shaking hands and vowed that he would find the ruby and
make sure the world knew that his father had solved the mystery. Everything in the
book had been true. The pyramids were a clever trick. Qua’a, the richest and
most powerful pharaoh, was buried right here in this long-lost tomb. And, according
to the black book, the Nile Ruby was buried with him.
The skeleton appeared to be grinning.
The young man edged round the cave, making sure there were no more wires. He
carefully removed the grinning skeleton from its chair and sent his foot crashing
through the seat.