Tales of the Red Panda: Pyramid of Peril Read Online Free PDF Page A

begin your duties right away, Weston,” he said, rising and casting away his robe . “And I know that I have appointments to keep. Is the car ready, Kit?” he asked, already past her and halfway out of the room.
    “Always,” she said , with an awkward wave at Weston before trotting quickly along behind her Boss toward the great staircase leading down to the front doors. She caught up with him just as the footman who might have been Roger or David raced to bring Fenwick his day-coat, hat and stick and as such she was obliged to hold her tongue until they were out the door.
    “You wanna let me in on the big news?” she asked quietly, and without looking directly at him. She stepped in front of him and opened the rear passenger door of the great, black car, and he pressed a slightly battered penny postcard into her hand as he climbed in.
    The card bore far more postage than one might have expected, suggesting that the seemingly unimportant message had been sent with all possible speed. The picture on the front was of the Imperial Hotel in Cairo, though the postmark did not suggest it had been mailed from the hotel itself. Kit closed the door and began to walk toward the driver’s side, playing the part of trusty chauffeur for any who might be watching as she flipped the card over. On the back was a simple message in a flowing hand. Nothing that would have seemed remarkable, but it stopped her in her tracks.
    “Wish you were here,” it read . “M.F.”

Four
     
    Kit Baxter squirmed slightly in her seat and tried to let the noise of the engines drown out the infernal giggling of the maids, which was not entirely successful. The Fenwick household was on the final leg in a long series of charter flights to Cairo, but the thrill of the first air-trip seemed to have not run out for several of the girls. Kit Baxter knew what actual thrills were, and was simply stiff and bored from the long flights. Toronto to St. Johns, St. Johns to London, London back to Madrid for some reason which Kit could not imagine, and then finally on towards Egypt and their missing friend, Maxwell Falconi.
    It had all happened so quickly. A short drive to a pneumatic tube to take them to their underground lair. A long-distance call to the Imperial Hotel in Cairo which confirmed that Falconi had been a guest, but that he had disappeared without a trace more than a week ago. The next thing she had known, he was packing his goodies for Egypt.
    “I’m coming with you,” she had insisted.
    “You’re really not,” he had countered, maddeningly casual about the whole thing as he stuffed the crime-fighting gear of the Red Panda into the false bottoms of several large suitcases. “Maxwell Falconi was my mentor, one of my teachers when I was preparing to begin my work. If he’s in trouble, I have to go after him.”
    “He’s my friend too,” Kit had protested , “and he may be old, but he’s plenty tough. If he’s yelling for help from halfway around the world it means two things: one, this is important and two, whatever’s got him in a fix is tougher’n he is. So save some room in them secret compartments for Squirrel Suits, Mister.”
    “Kit,” the Red Panda had protested , “this isn’t an overnight jaunt that we can cover with a letter to your mother. This is a trip to Egypt.”
    “Thank you for the geography lesson.” She had stomped her foot in impatience. “I’m coming with you. I’m your partner, I’m supposed to have your back and you’d never let me go off on my own like this, whatever people might say.”
    That had made him stop his packing anyway. He had paused a moment to gather his thoughts.
    “If you try to hypnotise me,” she had warned him, “I’ll give you such a pinch.”
    He shook his head. “Never have, never will,” he promised. “But Weston isn’t wrong, and neither were Sterling and Thompson, in their own way. People who see us together , they know there’s something between us.”
    Kit’s heart did