Tombquest: Book of the Dead

The Mission

"We contacted your aunt and uncle, and they'll be here by the end of the day," said Hussein. He didn't want to ditch the kid, but he had work to do. And the kid had a lot more questions for him than he had answers. "I can get an officer to stay with you if ..."

"Don't worry about it," said Alex. "I know my way around here."

"Don't go far," said the detective. That seemed responsible enough.

After a few wrong turns, Hussein found his way to the small office where he'd been set up. He found the key and opened the door. The room was dark, and he flipped the light switch by the door: nothing. Bulb must be out, he thought. He walked carefully toward the desk, the outline of a small lamp just visible in the shadows.

The door suddenly slammed shut behind him. Hussein swung around but saw nothing. The room was totally dark now except for a few lines of light slipping in through the slats of the blinds.

"Very funny," he said. "Jackson, is that you?"

The lamp clicked on. It wasn't Jackson. The light was weak, but the face of the man sitting at the desk was very pale and Hussein could see every fleshy fold.

"Wait, am I in the wrong office?" said Hussein.

The man's left hand slowly wrapped around one of two shiny objects hanging from his neck. "You are in the perfect place, Detective," he said in his crisp German accent.

The police investigation had, for all practical purposes, just come to a close.

~~

It hadn't taken Alex long to get tired of waiting around the office. He slipped into spy mode — determined to see what the investigation was uncovering. By the end of the day, no one seemed to know anything more, but he did find Ren. She was leaving Medieval Art just as he was heading in. The near collision resulted in a near hug — which Alex honestly wouldn't have minded so much. The sight of his best friend filled him with a wave of relief and gratitude. It wasn't that long ago that it seemed like he'd never see her again ... But there was no time for that stuff now.

He dragged her to a bench outside the museum, on the edge of Central Park. It was a beautiful evening, and he felt better than ever — no aches, no pains. All this would have been great except that there was a giant hole in the center of his world.

"I heard everyone at the museum talking. What did the detective say?" asked Ren.

"They think whoever took the Spells took my mom," he said. "Maybe she was just in the way, and they'll try to ransom her back to the museum. Or they might need her to help them 'find a buyer' for the Lost Spells."

He felt himself getting angrier as he talked. "I knew something weird was going on with that exhibit — that stupid exhibit!"

Ren flinched at the volume.

"Sorry."

Ren looked around, as if she were checking out the park. Alex knew she was trying to find the right thing to say. "The police will find her," she said at last.

Now it was Alex's turn to be quiet. He thought about it. He needed to be honest with himself about this. "They won't," he said.

"Don't say that."

"They're not even trying, Ren!" The words bubbled up from some deep well of frustration within him. "There are a ton of them here, but all they're doing is sitting around. Talking."

"About the case?"

"About the Yankees!"

Ren shook her head, but she didn't try to argue this time. "They weren't doing much when I was up there, either."

Alex looked at her. She sounded sad about it. He wanted her to sound angry — as angry and frustrated as him. "I think Todtman has my mom's necklace."

"Really?" said Ren, her voice rising with surprise. "Did you see it?"

"Part of it," he admitted. "But the detective wouldn't even listen when I tried to tell him about it."

Ren shook her head: "Well, that is stupid."

For the first time, Alex thought he heard some anger in her voice.

He tried to fan the flame a little. "Yeah, so stupid."

"And you know that Todtman's in charge of the exhibition now, right?"

"WHAT?" said Alex. He couldn't believe it. "And they're just sitting around, waiting for a call. A call that might never come. Until then, where's my mom? Who's she with? What kind of people would do all this?"

"Bad people," said Ren. "Or crazy."

A shudder shot through Alex. A plan was taking shape in his head, and he needed Ren.

Ren looked at him. Her expression was still uncertain. And then her eyes got wide with recognition. "Oh," she said.

"Yes," said Alex.

"We need to do something."

"Yes!" he practically shouted.

"We do know the museum a lot better than they do."

"And I know my mom so much better, and at least we know what the Lost Spells are, which they don't even seem to."

"And if they missed Todtman, what else did they miss?" Ren's voice was getting almost as loud as Alex's now. "I have an idea," she said. "I heard something ..."

Alex smiled.

She was the hardest-working, most focused girl on the Upper East Side.

He was the leading expert on ancient Egypt, age twelve and under.

And they had a mission.