Theodosia and the Eyes of Horus

CHAPTER SEVEN An Unexpected Visitor

WHEN WE RETURNED TO THE MUSEUM the following morning, we found a small gathering of constables loitering in the foyer talking to Flimp, the night watchman.

"Oh no, not this again," Mother muttered.

When Father saw Inspector Turnbull, his face grew bright red. Before Father could charge at him like a raging bull, the inspector stepped forward and greeted us pleasantly. "Morning, Throckmorton. Mrs. Throckmorton. Your night watchman sent for us. He caught someone wandering around uninvited last night. Normally, I'd leave it to the constables, but with the problems you had just a few weeks ago, I thought it best if I checked it out myself."

An intruder! My gaze went immediately to the wall, but there were no mummies lined up there like the last time Inspector Turnbull had come calling.

Father decided to accept Turnbull's pleasant greeting as a peace offering. His color returned to normal and he asked, "Where is he?"

"Right this way, sir." Turnbull led us down the hallway to a utility closet. Two constables stood at attention at either side of the door. My thoughts flew to the Emerald Tablet. Had Stilton broken his word and told Trawley about it? Had the supreme master himself come last night to take it?

"Well, open it up," Turnbull told them.

The constables hurried to open the door, then stood back. I gasped. There, sitting cross-legged on the floor among the mops and pails, was none other than—

"Awi Bubu?" I blurted out.

Six pairs of adult eyes zoomed in on me. "You know this man, miss?" Turnbull asked at the same time as Father said, "How the devil do you know him, Theodosia?"

I glanced from one outraged face to another. "He's a magician. He performs in a show at the Alcazar Theater. I saw a picture of him on a playbill once."

"What were you doing in that part of town, young lady?" Mother asked.

Sometimes she picked the absolutely worst moments to turn into a concerned parent. "Isn't it rather more important to ask what he is doing here?" I countered, trying to divert their attention back to where it belonged.

"Yes," Father said, turning to the old Egyptian in the closet. "What are you doing here?"

Slowly, Awi Bubu rose to his feet. One of the constables reached for his billy club as if he expected the shriveled little man to attack him. Instead, the magician gave a deep, respectful bow. "I am sorry to have intruded. I was merely looking for a place to spend the night."

Turnbull looked sharply at Flimp. "Is that true? Did he have anything on him when you found him?"

"No, sir. But what person in their right mind would spend the night in a museum, of all places?"

It seemed impolite to point out that Flimp himself did just that every night.

"Well," Turnbull barked, "answer the man's question."

Awi—or would it be Mr. Bubu?—bowed again. "I was planning to spend the night in the park—"

"Vagrancy is vagrancy, man. Sleeping in the park isn't allowed either," Turnbull said.

"Even so, as I had no place to spend the night, I was going to try there, but before I reached it, I was set upon by thugs who did not like my foreign appearance. Wishing to escape them before I suffered too much harm, I sought refuge behind the museum. I found one of the doors ajar and slipped in, hoping to evade my pursuers. When they did not follow me, I fear I was lulled into a sense of security and fell asleep."

Turnbull glared at Father. "Can't you keep this museum of yours locked?"

Father turned on Flimp. "Which door was it?"

"The entrance door back by the receiving dock, sir. I suppose it's possible that Dolge or Sweeny left it open." He scratched his head. "But I would have sworn I checked it last night, sir, like I always do."

Of course he had. And I had no doubt that it had been locked. I looked at Awi Bubu, only to find him staring directly at me.

I grew warm and flustered and looked away, not wanting any of the adults to realize Awi Bubu and I knew each other well enough to have had an actual conversation.

"Perhaps they forgot," the Egyptian magician said. "For I would never have entered had the door not already been open." He turned to Mother. "And may I compliment you on your excellent collection? It is one of the finest I have seen since I left Cairo."

"Even so," Turnbull said, "I can take you in on vagrancy charges. Constable!" One of the men stepped forward to grab Awi Bubu, but Mother stopped him.

"Cairo, you said?"

Awi bowed deeply. "Yes, ma'am. I am far from my native land."

"Indeed you are. And have you no place to stay?"

He spread his hands. "I have been evicted from my lodgings, ma'am. While Egyptian magic is much in fashion in London, I am afraid actual Egyptians are not."

Mother's face softened. "And how do you come to know so much about museum collections, Mr. Bubu?"

"I had occasion to work for Gaston Maspero at the Antiquities Service in Cairo."

Mother's face brightened as if someone had just dropped a prettily wrapped gift into her lap. "Really, Mr. Bubu?"

"Oh no, Henrietta!" Father grabbed her arm and walked her a few paces down the hall. I inched after them. "Whatever you are thinking, forget about it," he whispered.

"But Alistair! He's worked for the Antiquities Service in Cairo. Just how often does a professional acquaintance of the director's land on our doorstep? It's a wonderful opportunity. He may have suggestions that would help us present our case to them!" Mother's eyes were bright, her cheeks pink. I risked another glance at the Egyptian; he was staring intently at Mother, his lips moving silently. A ticklish sensation ran up my back. Not quite as strong as when I was in the presence of a curse, but strong enough to let me know that some form of magic was being worked.

"Stop!" I shouted. Awi Bubu's mouth snapped shut and he turned to look at me. So did everyone else.

"Stop what, Theodosia?" Father asked, annoyed at the interruption.

How was I to explain? Glancing around frantically, I spied Henry. "It was Henry. He was pinching me."

"Was not!" Henry said, outraged.

"Were too," I replied, desperate to create a diversion from my inexplicable behavior.

"Silence!" Father barked.

I bowed my head, shame heating my cheeks. But Awi Bubu was no longer muttering his chant.

"Not to worry, guv'nor," one of the constables said. "Young'uns will be young'uns."

"Now," Turnbull said, "I suggest you allow us to press charges against this vagrant and be on our way."

"No, Inspector," Mother said. "That will not be necessary. I think we can all agree that there were extenuating circumstances in his situation. After all, one cannot expect a man to willingly subject himself to a beating when there is an open door at hand."

Inspector Turnbull was clearly not happy with this. "But ma'am..."

Awi Bubu bowed again. "Thank you, madam. I only hope I can return the kindness someday."

"Well, actually...," Mum replied. "If you wouldn't mind, I would like to talk to you sometime about your work at the Antiquities Service in Cairo."

"But of course. Whatever madam wishes."

"Perhaps you could come tomorrow at two o'clock?"

Awi Bubu bowed yet again. "As you wish. Until tomorrow then." With that, Awi Bubu gave one last bow and walked toward the door. We all stared after him until he disappeared. Then Inspector Turnbull said to my parents, "I'd be careful of that one, I would. Who knows what someone of his kind might be up to."

"Someone of what kind?" Mother asked frostily.

Turnbull blinked. "Someone who spends his nights in parks and museums, madam," he replied, just as icily.

"We'll take all due care, Inspector," Father interjected before we all got frostbite. "And thank you for your quick response."

While the adults exchanged goodbyes, I slipped away down the hall. As soon as I was out of their sight, I burst into a run, determined to catch up to Awi Bubu. When I stepped outside the museum, he was already half a block away. "Wait!" I called out, doubling my speed in an effort to reach him before he disappeared.