CHAPTER II
The Egyptian Cat
The reception for Dr. Hayret Ahmed was at the home of an Egyptian importer named Mohammed Bartouki. Barby, the boys, and Winston rang the bell of a brownstone house on New York's Upper East Side promptly at noon.
Winston had checked with his host by phone, and his request that he be allowed to bring his young associates to meet Bartouki had been met with enthusiastic pleasure. Mohammed Bartouki had assured the scientist that he would look forward to meeting the young people of Dr. Hartson Brant's household.
The door was opened by a figure right out of The Arabian Nights, or so it seemed to the young people. The doorman was a huge Negro dressed in flowing red trousers that tucked in at the ankles. His sandals turned up in points at the front, Persian style. An embroidered vest set off a loose white silk shirt, and on his head was a red fez, shaped like a section of a cone, slightly less in diameter at the top than at the bottom.
"Please come in," he requested. His voice was accented. Rick saw that he had two horizontal hairline scars on each cheek.
The man took their coats, giving Barby a courtly bow. "Dr. Bartouki asks if you will please join him in the salon. It is straight ahead."
As they walked down the carpeted hall Barby gave Winston a smile of sheer delight. "He's right out of a movie," she whispered. "Even to the fez and the scars on his cheeks."
Winston smiled back. "In Egypt a fez is called a tarboosh. The scars mean he is a Sudanese, from the country south of Egypt. I agree he's a very picturesque type. I suspect Bartouki dressed him up for effect. It's a common practice."
"What's Bartouki a doctor of?" Rick asked.