“This central hallway leads through to a back alley,” Bud pointed out. “If that jeweler spotted us following him, he may have taken Ed through the building just to throw us off the track.”
“I’m afraid Bud’s right,” Ames agreed.
After searching every room, the police gave up. Tom, Bud, and Ames accompanied them back to the station, where the inspector took notes; then the Americans taxied to the United States Embassy. The Embassy officials promised to do everything possible to press a search.
After a sleepless, worrisome night aboard the Sky Queen, Tom and his two companions hurried into the city to check back with the police and the Embassy.
Neither had any news. An Embassy aide, however, said that the government had ordered a citywide dragnet to determine Ed’s fate.
132 TRIPHIBIAN ATOMICAR
Meanwhile, the police had already checked the jeweler’s booth at the bazaar.
It was still closed. There was no clue to the man’s whereabouts.
Tom passed the day restlessly with Bud, in a vain attempt to pick up a clue to the grave situation. In despair they did a little touring, visiting the Gulistan Palace with its famous jeweled Peacock Throne, the beautiful Sepah Salar Mosque, and also the House of Strength, a private gymnasium. Here, well-built, mustachioed muscle men swung heavy clubs and wrestled to rhythmic drumbeats and chanted verses.
“How’d you like to try a fall with one of those babies?” Bud whispered.
“No, thanks.” Tom grinned wryly. “But I’ll bet Chow could show ‘em a few tricks, Texan-style.”