The Eye of Bastet

101.

The service team moves gracefully into the formal dinning area like a marching band. The head waiter, quarterback, is now the drum major directing a marvelous performance as the table is prepared. Bt the fourth measure the feast is ready for the three guests of honor to be seated. Somewhat patronizingly they have also set a plate in the kitchen for Mr. Muscles.

Cyrus, Mr Big and the Queen of Hearts are herded into the dinning room and take their seats at the stunning table of culinary delights. Taking the cue Mr. Muscles leaves the dining area for the gratification of the kitchen. Drysdale observers the commotion and deftly slides out of the room and back into the main living area. 

The clock is ticking as Drysdale, working on the assumption that the adjacent luxury rooms are mirror images of each other, first scans the fireplace. There is a thick Byzantine granite mantle above the huge fireplace that securely holds several stock objets d’art, the obligatory Tut statues, hieroglyphic scrolls and a giant gold plated figurine of Bastet, the Egyptian goddess with the head of a female black cat. He reaches into his trouser pockets and produces the mini drill with a quarter inch diamond bit. With speed and precision his bores a hole in the open space of Bastet’s hand-held ceremonial sistrum. The drill goes back into his right pocket as the micro-cam comes out of the port and is gently placed into the hole, spun and secured. It is a motion detecting wireless transmit device that will provide a two-hundred seventy degree fish-eye capture of the entire living area. Drysdale takes his handkerchief, blows the dust particles off the mantle and wipes the back to sight figurine clean. 

He turns to go and is surprised half-way by Mr. Muscles. 

They both freeze staring at one another. 

As much as Drysdale has the right to be paralyzed with fear he is bemused by the gob of steak sauce on the henchman’s chin. 

“What are you doing in here?” asks Muscles in a New Jersey accented baritone.

Drysdale, quick as always on his feet, removes a crystal shaker from his green vest and says, “Ran out of salt” as he again removes his handkerchief and hands it to Muscles pointing at his messy chin. 

Drysdale leaves the room as Muscles nods and swabs the deck of his jaw.