Free Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine 11/01/12 by Dell Magazines

were stolen from the
     museum in Baghdad during the war," Eugene said. "They were worth thousands and
     thousands of dollars."
    Leave it to Eugene, I thought. He was right, though; there would be a small
     fortune in just a handful of the objects before us.
    Some of the other pieces were similar to the one Rose had just handed over,
     simple discs that could be used in any number of games. Another object was a
     reconstructed bracelet, the beads restrung into a rainbow interspersed with
     gold.
    "It looks like yours, Tiff!" Nicole exclaimed.
    Tiffany held out her necklace, purchased from one of the many vendors we
     encountered at all of the sites. Although she might have found a similar
     souvenir anywhere in the world—little glass beads were, after all, just
     little glass beads—she was pleased.
    Even more spectacular were the metallic objects on the next tray: coins and
     jewelry in silver, gold, and bronze. And one very small piece was possibly the
     most valuable on the whole table. A tiny bronze figure of a stylized horse,
     possibly a votive offering to one of the many gods in Anatolia, which made up
     most of what is modern Turkey.
    "Every object, no matter its monetary value," Dr. Saatchi said, "has a story to
     tell us, about the people who owned it, where it came from, and how it got here.
     That history—"
    A klaxon sounded at near-deafening levels. Randy started; his flailing hand
     knocked into Brian, who had been taking a close-up of one of the coins.
    Artifacts scattered from the velvet-covered table. Everyone automatically bent to
     gather them.
    "Fire alarm!" Lale called out. "Please do not touch anything! Follow me out of
     the room. Be careful not to step on anything!"
    A few people set the artifacts on the tray and we filed out and hurried down the
     hall to the main entrance. Constitutionally unable to pass a vendor or shop
     without stopping, Randy paused at the displays of the museum store. He began to
     pick through the piles of loose beads.
    "Please, we must leave the building, Randy." Lale was remarkably polite,
     considering. "We will return shortly, and the shop will still be open."
    Another group of tourists, presumably doing a walking tour of the city, paused
     nearby us outside the museum, while their guide explained the history and
     importance of the artifacts inside. The fire-alarm racket made the guide have to
     speak up, and she apparently made a joke: The group looked around and laughed. I
     certainly hoped they'd be going in tomorrow, as it seemed rather silly for them
     only to view the outside of the building.
    Lale, ever alert to maximize the good in any situation, saw a woman cooking in
     the front of a tiny storefront restaurant. After introducing herself, she spoke
     rapidly to her in Turkish, then gestured for us all to gather round as waiters
     handed us all glass cups of tea on saucers with tiny spoons and two pieces of
     lump sugar.
    "Mrs. Kaya has offered to do a demonstration of Turkish cooking for us while we
     wait to return to the museum."
    The tour group outside the museum had apparently seen our tea and were pressing
     in. I frowned when someone pushed a little too hard.
    Get your own Mrs. Kaya,
I thought.
She's ours.
    "Jack, Harold, if you would like to gather round?" Lale said.
    I stepped over to let Jack in, as Mrs. Kaya spoke rapid-fire Turkish to Lale, who
     translated for us. The older woman nipped off small pieces of dough with her
     fingertips, stretching them out flat, then she made a well with a deft gesture
     of her thumb. She filled the dough with a small pinch of what looked like ground
     beef and herbs, pinching the sides closed at the top, making a dumpling no
     larger than my thumbnail.
    "This is
manti,"
Lale explained. "Although Mrs. Kaya uses lamb, you can
     use ground beef, and after they're boiled, you top them with fresh yogurt and
     browned butter and chili powder. It is one of my favorite dishes from
     childhood."
    She spoke again to Mrs. Kaya,