‘No doubt; but Mahmoud has to check all possibilities.’
‘Perhaps I can help? You mentioned dates. What dates had Mahmoud in mind?’
‘The 27 th of June.’
‘I will just look in my diary. Time?’
‘I cannot say precisely. An hour either side of six o’clock.’
‘Then I can help. He was with me.’
‘I am sure Mahmoud will be interested to know that.’
‘I can be precise,’ said Labiba, who was never anything other than precise, ‘because I remember the occasion well. It was just after Suleiman had first come to me. I wanted him to see that the issue was not just his alone but something wider, so I took him to a meeting of the Assembly.’
‘The National Assembly?’
‘Yes. I wanted him to meet Hussein Maktar and a few other people. Mohammed Jubbara, Ali Hamad el Sid, Al-Faqih Mas’udi-You know them, perhaps?’
Owen did. They were all Congressmen. And all Nationalists. ‘I would have thought their word counted for something.’
‘Your own, I am sure, would be sufficient,’ said Owen politely.
Labiba laughed drily.
‘If I know Mahmoud, none of our words will be sufficient. He will want to check all.’
‘As I say, he is merely checking possibilities.’
‘But why check this poor boy? He is shattered enough as it is.’
‘He has been spending a lot of time in the quarter, Madam Latifa. “Creeping around” is how they put it.’
‘Have you never been lovelorn, Captain Owen?’
‘Not to that extent.’
‘Ah, but you are English, Captain Owen. You do not like to show your feelings as we Egyptians do. But I have persuaded you, I hope, about poor Suleiman?’
‘It is not me you have to persuade, Mahmoud is in charge of the case.’
Ah, yes, but since I had spoken to you previously about Suleiman, I thought-Have you had a chance to have a word with him on that score? I am still worried about him-even more worried now that I know how she died. He will be very angry, I fear. I am afraid he may do something rash.’
‘That was not the occasion. I will, however, still try to see him.’
‘Please do. He means no harm. Yet he may do some.’
‘I will do my best. But the case is Mahmoud’s.’
‘Of course. I understand.’ She paused. ‘Have you spoken to Mahmoud lately?’
‘I spoke to him yesterday.’
‘Did you discuss with him-? You know I am interested in female circumcision.’
‘We did not, in fact, discuss that.’
There was a little silence.
‘You see, I felt there was a chance of him taking a line sympathetic to us.’
‘I am sure he would not wish to take a line unsympathetic to you.’
‘It is just that now that the case has become one of murder-’
‘I am afraid that on that Mahmoud will have to speak for himself.’
‘Of course. Of course. And you yourself, Captain Owen, you are still taking an interest?’
‘In the wider sense, certainly.’
Paul had convened another meeting, this time at the Consulate. Owen had assumed it was a continuation of the one on the gravedigger dispute but when he got there he was surprised to see Macrae and Ferguson. Paul was looking grave.
‘His Excellency has asked me to convene this meeting,’ he said. ‘It concerns a major complaint from the Khedive. We are to explore the circumstances and then draft a formal reply.’ There were two Ministers present, junior but Ministers. One of them was the man from the Department of Irrigation whom Owen had already met. The other was unfamiliar to him. He appeared to have something to do with the Khedive’s Office.
‘I understand,’ said Paul, ‘that the Khedive wishes the Consul-General to raise this directly with the British Foreign Secretary?’
‘That is correct, yes,’ said the man from the Khedive’s Office.
‘I would hope it needn’t go so far. Perhaps if our meeting this morning is able to give the Khedive satisfaction-?’
‘That would be desirable,’ said the Minister, ‘but it may not be enough. In view of the international implications.’
‘International implications?’ said Paul. ‘But-?’
‘We view this as inconsistent with Treaty Obligations. Not to mention as constituting a grave insult to His Royal Highness.’
‘I cannot tell you how desolate we all are at the Consulate-General,’ said Paul. ‘Nor how shocked and saddened we feel that such an incident should have occurred.’
‘Plunder and pillage,’ said the Minister.
‘Exactly!’ said Paul.
‘Of the Khedive’s own premises!’
‘Incredible!’ said Paul, shaking his head. ‘Mamur Zapt?’ Jesus! thought Owen, frantically racking his memory.
‘I understand you were there?’
‘Well-’
‘Not exactly there,’ put in Ferguson helpfully. ‘Nearby.’
‘I was hoping you would be able to tell us what happened.’
‘Well-’
‘The regulator burst,’ said Macrae. ‘We had to take action.’
‘Well, naturally,’ said the man from the Khedive’s Office. ‘We had to fill in the breach. So I sent my men out-’ Light at last began to dawn.
‘I cannot say how much I regret-’ began Macrae.
‘But the Khedive’s own palace! The Khedive’s own furniture!’
A dreadful mistake!’ said Paul.
‘It was a wee laddie!’ pleaded Macrae.
‘New out here!’ put in Ferguson.
‘Dew still wet!’ said Macrae.
‘Have him beheaded!’ said the Minister.
‘Well-’
Paul was the first to recover.
‘Certainly!’ he snapped.
Ferguson and Macrae gaped.
‘At once!’ said the Minister.
Paul rubbed his chin.
‘It would have to go to the Foreign Secretary. British.’
‘None of your weak liberal nonsense!’ warned the Minister. ‘The last thing I had in mind,’ said Paul.
Macrae found his voice.
‘But, man, ye cannae-’
‘Perhaps beheading would be too quick,’ said the Minister thoughtfully. ‘How about garotting?’
‘The very thought that was going through my mind!’ cried Paul.
‘Jesus, man!’ began Ferguson. ‘Ye-’
‘But too easy!’ said Paul.
‘There is that,’ acknowledged the Minister.
‘It would be over too quickly.’
‘Torture?’ suggested the Minister.
‘It needs to be lingering,’ said Paul, deep in thought. Suddenly he brightened. ‘I know!’ he said. ‘The glasshouse!’
‘Glass House?’ said the Minister, interested. ‘Well, that certainly sounds promising. Fried, you mean?’
‘It’s an old military punishment.’
Ah, well, they would know. Judging from our experience of them.’
‘Experts,’ said Paul. ‘Experts. But, look, there’s a problem here. If it goes to the Foreign Secretary he may not agree.’
‘Too liberal, you mean?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Perhaps,’ said the Minister, ‘on second thoughts, it might be best if it were handled locally.’
‘Do you think that would satisfy the Khedive?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said the Minister, ‘I think he would be very satisfied indeed. Glass House? Lingering? Oh, yes. Very satisfied.’
Macrae stayed behind after the Minister had left.
‘Look, man,’ he said to Paul, ‘I know you mean well, but I don’t trust those Army bastards-’
‘Army?’ said Paul. ‘Who’s talking about the Army? I’m thinking of him assisting the Consul-General’s wife in their greenhouse.’
Owen could hear the pad-pad of bare feet coming along the corridor. A moment later the constable appeared with Babikr in tow. He pushed him into Owen’s room and then took up position outside the door.
‘I shall be standing here, little dove,’ he said to Babikr, ‘and if there’s any trouble, I’ll come in and beat the hell out of you.’
It was plain, though, that there was going to be no trouble. Babikr, lost and forlorn, stood bewildered in front of Owen.