Free Carlotta and the Krius Scepter (Carlotta Series Book 1) by John Booth Page A

wasn’t, The Don was going to hear some choice phrases in my best Anglo-Saxon.
    “Briefing. You can’t rob no museum if you don’t know what we want you to steal.”
    Brian said indifferently. “It’s the box isn’t it? Thampthis’s Box.”
    This image of a golden box with fancy decorations all over it floated into my mind. A vaguely familiar Egyptian guy with a stupid beard, thin and wearing ancient clothes, offered it to me and I was saying no to him. I wasn’t using polite language either. I came out of my muse to find I was shaking my head from side to side.
    Mike grinned at Brian and didn’t seem surprised that he’d guessed it first time.
    “Wise guy, huh? Yeah, that’s the thing.”
    “How did you know about the box?” I asked Brian as he stepped to my side. We talked as I finished dressing and strapped on my watch. No sunglasses provided.
    “It’s the biggest exhibition to hit this town in years. Some American archaeologist found a buried pyramid in Egypt using NASA satellites and infra-red photography. Turned out to be the tomb of this mythological fourth dynasty guy, Thampthis. Nobody was sure he even existed until they found the tomb. The Egyptians have let us borrow the finds for a year and it’s on tour around the US . The exhibition is here for six weeks. That must be almost up by now.”
    “Thampthis ruled for twelve years and was sweet, for a pharaoh,” I said absently and then cursed myself. Where was my mind dredging up all this nonsense from?
    “Nine, according to the guy on the news. I was going to go and see the exhibition, but some bastards kidnapped me.”
    “That’s the way the cookie crumbles,” Mike put in. He stood waiting patiently near the elevator with some other hood I suspected must be Pat. An Irish Mafioso, whatever next?
    “What’s so special about the box?” I asked.
    “It’s made of bronze, about so big,” Brian indicated something about shoebox sized. “And it’s plated with gold. They weren’t supposed to know how to plate things back then. The gold has pictures on it, made by sticking precious stones and stuff on it. It looks really cool, except someone scraped off the picture of a face in the middle of the longer sides.”
    A surge of anger ran through me, though nothing Brian had said could have caused it. “Bastard,” I whispered through clenched teeth.
    Brian gave me another strange look. “Anyway, it’s unique. So I guess a collector might pay a lot of money to get hold of it.”
    “Enough talk,” Mike said firmly. He waved us towards the elevator. I took Brian’s hand, much to his surprise, and led the way.
     
    The Don was waiting at the card table. Some kind of plans were spread out in front of him. It didn’t take any great powers of deduction to figure out what they showed.
    “This is a map of the museum showing the security measures,” he said to nobody’s surprise. If he’d said it was a map of Venice , well, that would have been unexpected.
    I stepped in front of Brian and looked at the plans. Within seconds I had committed them to memory though I would need to review them in my head to be sure what they showed. I stepped away from the table to let Brian get a closer look.
    “How accurate are they?” Brian asked. That was a surprise. The boy was showing signs of intelligence.
    “I sponsor the security at the Metropolitan,” The Don said, almost apologetically.
    “One free theft with every sponsorship deal,” I said in TV host mode. The Don shrugged indifferently. I guess that’s how it works in many cities. The guy who runs the joint gives with one hand then takes it back with the other.
    “There are video surveillance cameras everywhere and they have drop down metal screens at the doors and windows all the way up. How are we supposed to get in there?” Brian again. Anyone would think he was a professional crook, the questions he asked. I was beginning to like him more every minute. No sign of fear, just level headed