Belly and the Bastet

By Tori Khosrovi

An ancient Egyptian artifact has been stolen, a man has been shot. The only witness to both crimes is a fluffy tiger-striped cat. Katherine Sanders, a retired investigative reporter, takes in the orphaned feline and together they follow a trail of clues that takes them back to a dig at the Valley of the Kings, the 1920's -era memoir of a deranged heiress and an old local murder. The ancient rituals and rites of a near-forgotten goddess are brought to life through the actions and beliefs of the strange criminal they are tracking through modern day Fort Worth Texas.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tori Khosrovi
• Release date: Nov 26, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301134212

Tori Khosrovi

Tori D. Khosrovi lives in Fort Worth Texas with her husband and cats. She is currently working on the second 'Belly and the...' book that will also be set in Fort Worth.

Book preview

Belly and the Bastet

By

Tori D. Khosrovi

Smashwords edition

Copyright 2012 Tori D. Khosrovi

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Prologue

With his cat under one arm and his briefcase under the other, Chester Grimshaw managed to unlock his front door without dropping either. Pushing the door open with his shoulder, he stepped over the threshold quickly and caught the carved mahogany door mid-swing with his heel to stop it from banging the wall, then gave it a light kick until it swung nearly shut. He bumped the door lightly with his hip then leaned back against it until he heard the satisfying snick of the latch. He set the briefcase and cat down gently on the console table and dropped his keys into an enameled bowl set there for that purpose. His briefcase stayed where it was put, but the cat jumped down onto the marble floor and began to groom her back irritably.

The mild January day did not require the heavy overcoat that Chester wore and he shrugged out of the cumbersome garment gratefully, hanging it neatly in the closet. The winter light was fading fast and he flipped the light switch on the wall. Bright twinkling light flooded the front entry from the chandelier high above.

The ringing of a phone echoed down the long hallway as Chester Grimshaw and his cat headed towards the kitchen. He turned and hurried across the hall to the library to pick up the phone, while the large gray and black striped cat stopped and glared at his retreating back, then gazed hopefully towards the kitchen. Finally admitting defeat, she sauntered slowly towards the library, her ears pricking up as the sound of Chester’s voice registered pleasant surprise.

Why yes, I’m available, he assured the caller as he leaned over to switch on the desk lamp. He remained standing as the caller continued, staring out the window of the library and onto the expanse of lawn beyond. listening intently.

How many pieces, he asked.

There was silence for a time and then Chester continued, I see. Well I could give you a preliminary estimate over the phone, but I could be more accurate when I examine them myself.

He was silent again and then his face registered surprise, really, he’s brought some with him to Fort Worth, he queried, then nodded his head before responding, I could go to his hotel, he stopped his sentence, obviously interrupted then continued, all right, at the antique store would be fine, before business hours, that way we won’t be interrupted.

There was some more conversation at the other end of the phone, and then Chester nodded, murmuring assent.

When the cat entered the room, Chester’s tall, slightly stooped frame bent over his desk as he reached for a pen and paper, quickly scribbled an appointment then read it back, assuring the caller that he would be available. After hanging up the phone, Chester grinned contentedly, running his hands through his thick gray hair. His blue eyes shone with excitement. He hadn’t felt this alive and excited since his days on the dig in Egypt, nearly fifty years ago. He looked down again at his scrawled note, 'Monday, 8am - Store KV 59!'

The phone call had come from a curator of a well respected, but financially troubled museum. The curator, a Mr. Hamilton, had asked if their representative could meet with Chester first thing on Monday morning. The museum was looking for someone to conduct the appraisals and auctions on their Egyptian collection. They weren’t sure how much they would have to sell and had sent a few smaller pieces to Fort with their representative to show Chester. Chester’s appraisal would determine whether or not they would have to put more of the collection on the auction block.

The fee for the appraisals and the commission from the auction that Chester would receive would be substantial, but the excitement he felt was because of the items themselves. The antiquities he would be handling were from The Valley of the Kings, some of them from KV 59. In his youth, Chester had been a member of the archaeological expedition that had started excavation on that site. He looked back down at the note, then shook his head and crumpled it into a ball and tossed it towards the trashcan, he wouldn’t forget this appointment, no need for a reminder note.

The ball of paper ricocheted off of the trash basket and fell onto the floor. The hefty cat sitting in the doorway of the library sprung at the ball and batted it around until it went under the desk, then she lost interest in the toy and sat back on her haunches, looking up at Chester.

Chester was well known for his expertise in Egyptian artifacts. He had handled appraisals and authentications for large auction houses such as Christies and Sotheby’s. But these were few and far between; most of his time was spent running his antique store in downtown Fort Worth. This particular sale however, was larger than any he had handled before and would be a good opportunity to steer his career back to his first love, Egyptology. He felt like a kid at Christmas time.

A demanding meow caught his attention and a fluffy tail curling like a question mark made a figure eight around his feet.

Belly old girl, he cried as he scooped up the large fluffy cat, I never made it back to the dig, and now the dig is coming to me!

Isabella, the queenly Norwegian Forest cat looked at him skeptically with her inscrutable golden eyes and yawned; the feline was obviously not impressed. Monday was a weekend away, and right now she was looking forward to a good dinner and a quiet evening away from the antique store with her beloved Chester.

30 miles to the west, in a dim and dingy kitchen the caller put down the receiver and grinned. Looking over at the copy of a magazine article of twenty-some years ago, his smile became wider. Finally, my goddess, you will be rid of these heathens and back with a true believer. I will build you a temple to rival any in the world and you will be honored once again.

He got up and strode out of the rickety old farmhouse and got into his pickup truck. He had to transform himself into a respectable museum representative by Monday morning. Then the statue would be his once more, but this time it would stay his.

As he bumped down the rutted drive he bristled in anger as he thought back to the times when the goddess was in his hands. First the spoiled young heiress had foiled his plans, and then that rich oilman had tried to keep it from him. Well they had taken care of the oilman, and then his Magda had been imprisoned. Chester Grimshaw would not foil his plans again; soon he would be reunited with his goddess and his Magda. No more playing patsy for the rich, he would take control once and for all.

The weekend went by quickly at Grimshaw’s Fine Antiques. Saturday and Sunday were the busiest time of the week at the store. The weekend crowd was mostly window shoppers and browsers, but there were some serious collectors that had come in and the sales receipts at the end of the day were more than satisfactory. Sunday night they always closed early and both Chester and Belly were glad to get away from the store and spent a quiet evening at home preparing for the meeting and appraisals the next day.

Chester had made the appointment for 8am Monday morning to meet with the museum representative. The antique store did not open until eleven ‘o’ clock and he wanted to have plenty of time to look over the pieces and discuss prices with the man. He also had to get the store ready for the new week. He felt he should be able to have things wrapped up with the museum rep by ten’o’clock at the latest, this was a preliminary appraisal after all, he would have plenty of time to get the store ready.

When Chester and Belly pulled into the store parking lot that Monday morning, they found the museum representative sitting in his car waiting for them. Chester had arrived early in order to get the lights turned on and some coffee brewing before the meeting and was surprised to find the man waiting there.

When he saw Chester and Belly arrive, he got out of his car carrying a large canvas bag and met them at the entrance to the store. He was of average height, with a straggly gray ponytail, horn-rimmed glasses and a gray pinstriped suit. He had a potbelly that caused his suit pants to hang low on his hips.

As Chester stepped forward to greet him he was not very impressed, but welcomed the man cordially and introduced himself. The nod of the head and perfunctory handshake he received in return was almost rude and Chester waited sternly for the man to offer his name. After a moment of silence, a resentful mumble confirmed his identity.

Chester unlocked the store and turned on the lights. He turned back to the museum representative, expecting to find him admiring the artifacts at the entrance, but instead he found the man staring coldly at him. The odd man stood between two huge onyx Egyptian statues that flanked the entrance to the store, but he did not even acknowledge them. Strange, Chester thought, he doesn’t even have an interest in Egyptian artifacts, why would the museum pick him to handle their Egyptian collection?

Giving himself a mental shrug, Chester led the way to the back of the store, pushing through the swinging doors into the storage area and delivery dock and on to his office, Belly following curiously.

Once he had turned on the lights and seated his guest, Chester settled behind his desk and leaned forward eagerly, waiting for the man to open his canvas bag and hand the pieces over for appraisal.

Belly sat at the entrance of the office, and fixed the odd man sitting across the desk from Chester with a hard stare. He was looking fixedly over Chester’s shoulder. Belly followed his stare to find he was looking at the statue of Bastet, the Cat Goddess on the shelf behind the desk. She too looked at the goddess and saw the eyes of the statue narrow and the ears flatten slightly. Belly’s hair stood on end in response, this man was dangerous and her goddess had given her a warning! Before the worried cat could decide how to warn Chester, it was too late. The man had reached down into his canvas bag and pulled out a pistol.

The movement across the desk from Chester was quick and sure; the gun was out and pointed at Chester before the cat could react. A loud bang rang through the office and Belly ran in panic from the room.

Chapter 1

It was a beautiful Monday morning, the air crisp but not frigid, the sky a bright blue. Katherine Sanders straightened her back slowly and climbed gingerly to her feet, hands brushing dirt from her knees. The tall thin woman brushed a shining gray lock of hair back from her brow and wiped sweat from her forehead. A youthful 75 year-old, she worked in her garden each morning, loving the fresh air and getting her hands dirty in the well-mulched soil. A garden required constant care if it was to be healthy, and she used this happy chore in lieu of a morning workout. Her no nonsense brown eyes gazed down at the basket of winter pansies she’d gathered; the tiny bright blooms tumbled over the garden’s borders in wild abandon, unusual this late in a Texas winter.

She bent and picked up the basket and turned back towards the house, walking quickly across the yard. The bouquet was to be for Chester Grimshaw, an old friend who had finally tracked down the surprise present she’d ordered for her granddaughter’s upcoming 30th birthday. Katherine wanted to present him with the flowers as an extra thank you when she went to pick it up later that morning.

Both she and her granddaughter were avid chess fans and Samantha had pointed out a particularly beautiful set in an antique catalog. When Katherine made inquiries later, she found out that the set had already been sold. So, she had set Chester to hunting for a similar one.

The chess set he had waiting for her was made of teak, hand carved in India several hundred years ago. Chester, through his Asian contacts, had located the unique set in an antique shop in Bali.

She looked around her as she walked, enjoying the beauty of her three hundred acres of Texas pasture interspersed with copses of trees. The location was peaceful and remote, seemingly far away from the city and suburbs of Fort Worth. In actuality she was only a 25-minute drive away from downtown, close enough