Rick didn't try to answer. Instead, he asked Hassan, "Could there be another Ali Moustafa in El Mouski?"
The guide shook his head. "I ask my friend when we stop. He say there is only one, and he tell me how we get there."
Rick's brows furrowed. "Then that must be the shop Bartouki meant. Only where was big, fat, jolly Ali Moustafa? Or could I be wrong about the description?"
Scotty was definite. "Not a chance. I remember the description the way you do. Either Bartouki didn't know his own partner, or the man you saw was not Ali Moustafa—unless he took off weight and shaved his beard. And changed his disposition in the bargain."
"Which brings us back to the question before the house. What do we do with the Egyptian cat?"
"Give it to Hassan," Scotty suggested with a smile.
The dragoman's pleasant black face assumed an air of great sadness. "Cat's nice," he said. "But no can take. Too much cost for food."
Rick smiled at the joke, then suddenly he realized Hassan was not joking. He was genuinely sad! He took the package from his lap and held it up. "Hassan, what do you think is in here?"
The dragoman shrugged. "You say cat. I believe."
Scotty asked incredulously, "Didn't you think carrying a cat wrapped in paper was pretty strange?"