‘I understand your feelings, Mohammed Hamdi.’
‘Is the little one with you?’
‘No. She is in England.’
The light that had shone momentarily in his eyes went out. ‘I see.’
Girling reached for his wallet. He removed a photograph he had taken just a few weeks before and handed it to the old man. ‘Keep it,’ he said, awkwardly.
Mohammed Hamdi studied the picture for a little while. ‘For a moment, I thought — ’
‘I know. But Alia’s in England. She’s with my parents. She’s happy. She has a good school and friends, many friends. You would be proud of her.’
Mohammed Hamdi held a thin arm towards the door.
‘We have only one thing in common now, and since she is not here…’ His voice, though weak, was steady. ‘It would be better, I think, if you left.’
‘I’m asking for a moment of your time, Mohammed Hamdi.’
‘Whatever brings you here, it must be the Devil’s own reason.’
‘It is. I’m here because of what happened to Mona.’
Mohammed Hamdi lowered himself shakily into one of the lace-covered armchairs. With his face as sombre as a judge’s, he gestured for Girling to sit in the chair opposite. His hand went instinctively for the cigarette box on the table beside him.
‘Explain yourself.’
Girling hesitated. ‘I know you can never look upon me as a friend, but I need your help, Mohammed Hamdi.’
His father-in-law had just inhaled a deep lungful of smoke. For a moment, Girling thought he would choke. His eyes watered, but he managed to exhale without spluttering. ‘My help?’
It took Girling five minutes to explain the circumstances surrounding Stansell’s abduction.
‘What does this have to do with Mona? What does this have to do with me?’ Mohammed Hamdi asked.
‘You can help me find him.’
‘I’ve been retired two years now. And besides, even if I wanted to help you…’ He held his two hands, fingers pointing inward to show the extent of his body’s collapse.
‘I know,’ Girling said. ‘I’m sorry.’
Mohammed Hamdi had been a beat policeman for more than twenty years when promotion took him into the criminal investigation branch of the ‘ Askary, the regular police. For all his dogged thoroughness, he had found his efforts constantly confounded by his rivals in the Mukhabarat, the hard bastards from internal security. Girling knew, because Mona had told him. She was intensely proud of her father. A peasant by birth, he had worked hard, in the face of considerable prejudice, to save the money to send Mona abroad. All along, her mother, an intensely religious woman, had objected vehemently to his plans. But Mohammed Hamdi, a true meritocrat, knew the value of a foreign education. And, though his religion demanded otherwise, his desire for his daughter to have the best start in life overcame fears for her soul and the objections of his wife. Mona maintained her mother had never forgiven him.
‘I fail to see that this Stansell has anything to do with my daughter,’ Mohammed Hamdi said.
‘When the Brotherhood killed Mona, I turned and ran away, Mohammed Hamdi. I’m not proud of that.’ He searched the old man’s eyes for understanding, but found none. ‘This time, I’m not running. This time, I have to face the Brotherhood. But first I have to find them. And I don’t know where to begin looking.’ Girling took a deep breath. ‘These Angels of Judgement could not have operated in Egypt without help. They would have needed a safe house, transport, papers… Do you understand what I’m saying? The only people who could have helped them are the Brotherhood.’
His father-in-law seemed flustered. ‘The Mukhabarat handled all internal security matters. In the ‘Askary, I was responsible for running down petty criminals, car thieves, drug peddlers, burglars, pick-pockets-’
‘You know these men, Mohammed Hamdi. I know you do.’
Mohammed Hamdi coughed and shook his head.
‘The people who assisted the Angels of Judgement here in Cairo are the same people who killed your daughter. Mona. My wife. I’m talking about the animals who beat the brains out of her on a dirt road beside the Nile three years ago.’
Mohammed Hamdi’s hand crashed down on the arm of the chair. ‘All right, damn you,’ he croaked. ‘But it doesn’t alter the fact that they were outside my jurisdiction, my official business.’
‘Official business, yes.’ Girling paused. ‘But how did you fill the early days of your retirement, Mohammed Hamdi? Before this illness? Did you do nothing but stay behind these doors nursing your grief? If I know you, Mohammed Hamdi, you would have been out there, looking for the killers of your daughter.’
The ex-inspector’s head hung limply on his chest. ‘Yes, I tried,’ he whispered.
Girling barely caught the words. ‘Then what happened?’
Mohammed Hamdi’s hand crept to the cigarette box again. It took him an age to get one into his mouth, longer to make the lighter work.
‘I journeyed to Asyut, to the very spot she died. The ground was still stained dark with her blood. I spoke to people, I followed leads. You don’t forget how to do your job, you know. I was a detective for twenty-five years…’
‘And what did you find there?’
‘A trail.’
‘To where?’
The ex-policeman raised his eyes. They were almost lost in the shadows of their sockets. ‘Everywhere.’ Mohammed Hamdi held his hands out wide. ‘It’s all around us. It’s in the streets, the markets, the rubbish tips… everywhere.’
‘What is?’
‘The hatred that killed her.’ He coughed again and his once-strong frame seemed as if it would implode. ‘Hatred murdered Mona,’ he said.
‘You found them, didn’t you, Mohammed Hamdi? You found Mona’s killers.’
‘No.’
‘But you know them?’
‘Yes.’
Girling sat on the edge of his chair. ‘What are their names?’
‘Knowing a name will not help you.’ Mohammed Hamdi’s voice had begun to sound slow, drugged.
‘Tell me, Mohammed Hamdi. I need to know it.’
‘It is not a real name.’
‘Are you talking about the ringleader?’
‘Yes, the ringleader.’’
Girling slipped onto his knees and took Mohammed Hamdi’s emaciated hands in his. ‘You’ve got to tell me,’ he said softly.
‘Abu Tarek, his name is Abu Tarek. That is how they know him in the Brotherhood.’
‘And where would I find Abu Tarek?’
‘With the greatest of difficulty. Abu Tarek enjoys the protection of God.’
A lump formed in Girling’s throat. ‘He’s dead?’
Mohammed Hamdi shook his head.
‘Then…?’
‘Tom…’
Girling had never heard him say his name before.
‘I loved my daughter far more than my own life. And yet, I think of the power that protects this man when I lie awake in the pit of the black night and I am scared beyond all reason.’
‘I, too, am scared, Mohammed Hamdi. But I’ve stopped running. And this time, with your help, I may be able to save a life.’
Behind the old man’s chair, the shadows moved. Girling glanced up to find his mother-in-law standing over them. He knew his time was short. He switched back to the old man. ‘Just give me an address. Please. I must act quickly.’
‘You want to know who killed our daughter?’ It was Mona’s mother who had spoken. Mohammed withdrew his hands from Girling’s clasp.
Girling stared at her. Her face was hidden behind the veil, but her eyes held him like a sniper’s open sights.
‘Yes, tell me,’ he said.
‘You killed her. You killed our daughter as though you, yourself, had hurled those rocks.’ Her veil bobbed lightly as she spoke. ‘You murdered our daughter the very day that you married her.’