Owen had borrowed for the day some skilled police trackers, men who could follow a trail, or a man, even through the crowded streets of Cairo. He did not want anything to go wrong.
The agent slipped away unobtrusively.
In the shop opposite, Mordecai appeared to be bowing farewell. He straightened up, came to the front of the shop and stood for a moment looking out impassively. Then he moved aside, and a man came out of the darkness of the shop, hesitated for a fraction of a second and then turned away into the bazaar.
Owen stood for a moment in stunned shock.
The man was Andrus.
CHAPTER 11
" I don’t understand it,” said Owen flatly.
“Me neither,” said Georgiades.
“I thought he was the man behind the organization on the Coptic side.”
“Well,” said Nikos, “he is. I don’t think there is any doubt about it.”
“Then why the hell is he the man behind the Moslem organization too?”
“He’s not exactly that, surely,” Nikos objected.
“He supplies the money, doesn’t he? And without that the Moslems wouldn’t be half as effective.”
“They’re not paying him interest, are they? I mean, he’s not doing it for money?”
“Osman? Pay interest? To a Copt?”
“Funnier things have happened. Like a Copt lending money to Osman.”
“Osman personally doesn’t have money enough even to pay the interest,” said Nikos.
“Friends?”
“We’re back to them again. And the only friend that’s appeared so far is Andrus.”
“Maybe he is a friend. In secret, I mean.”
“Of the Moslems? Of Osman? I don’t mind us looking at some funny ideas,” said Georgiades, “but let’s not go crazy.”
“That can’t be it,” said Nikos.
“No. Well, I’m not really suggesting that it is. I’m just reviewing all the possibilities.”
“While you’re doing that,” said Nikos, “think about this one: Andrus doesn’t know what the money is being used for.”
“That it’s going straight to Osman? He set it up, didn’t he?”
“Well, did he? It was set up that way, certainly, but was it set up by him?”
“He’s involved.”
“Oh yes, he’s involved. But does he know?”
“Someone else set it up and he’s just being used?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“OK. I’ll acknowledge it as a possibility.”
“I’ve got another question,” said Georgiades. “If he’s a secret friend of the Moslems, why doesn’t he just give them the money directly. Why does he have to go through Mordecai?”
“I can answer that one,” said Owen. “He’s had to go through Mordecai precisely because he is a Copt. The Moslems wouldn’t accept it if it came straight from him.”
“They think it comes from other Moslems?”
“Possibly. I can’t see Osman accepting it otherwise.”
“Well, I find it confusing,” said Georgiades. “I thought it was all straightforward, with Moslems cutting Copts’ throats, as they have always done, and Copts cutting Moslems’ throats, as usual. Now it’s got more complicated.”
“Let’s go back to basics,” said Owen. “First, are we wrong about Andrus being behind it all on the Copt side?”
“No!” said Nikos.
He went to his desk and produced a sheaf of agents’ reports.
“If you look at my map,” he said with a tinge of pride, “you will see that all the incidents are still within half a mile of the Bab es Zuweyla. Not only that, they’re not spontaneous, they’re organized. After each incident the men go back and report. I’ve had them followed. They always go to the same place. It’s a house just behind the Mar Girgis. It belongs to the church and is used by its laymen for committees and administering charity. The church has a large charity programme. Anyway, that’s where they all go to report. Not only that; that’s where they get their instructions, because sometimes some of them go out again for a second time to take part in another incident. I’ve had my people watching the house for some time now. That’s where they report before they start and that’s where they report after they’re finished.”
“Why don’t we smash it up?”
“Because then they’d report somewhere else. Anyway, I thought you wanted to be sure about who was organizing it.”
“I do. Who is?”
“It’s got to be Andrus. There are other people in the house from time to time, but he’s the only one who has been there throughout.”
“You haven’t been able to get anyone inside?”
“No, but I probably could. Do you want me to?”
“Yes. Let’s have some certainty about one thing, at any rate.”
“Why don’t we pick a few of them up,” said Georgiades, “as they’re going to and fro? Then we could ask them.”
“We could do that too. I’ve thought about it,” said Nikos, “but I was keeping to surveillance until I was told otherwise.”
Nikos was a stickler for the rules. Owen never ceased to marvel at the way in which he combined incredible ingenuity within the rules with total lack of curiosity as to what went on beyond them.
“You mean you’ve known all along where they were going?” asked Georgiades.
“Not till they got there. I’ve known they were going, that’s all.”
“And you’ve done nothing about it?”
“Of course I’ve done something about it. I’ve had them followed from the time they left the house. The moment it was clear where they were going I’ve had a message back. And then,” said Nikos with pride, “I’ve had our people there within minutes. That’s organization.”
“Yes, but it’s all unnecessary. You could have hit them the moment they left the house.”
“Can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re still on surveillance.”
“Christ!”
“Other reasons too,” Owen intervened. “There’s no point in picking up small fry. Not when there are so many of them. It’s big fry we’re after.”
“If you’d been out on the street”-Georgiades looked at Nikos-“instead of sitting on your ass in a cool office-”
“What I do,” said Nikos, “takes ability.”
“How did you get onto it in the first place?” Owen asked curiously.
“I had them followed back. After the first few incidents I began to suspect there was a pattern, so I tried to find it. You don’t get anything on this scale without communication lines, so I started looking for them.”
“Have you got it all worked out for the Moslems too?” asked Georgiades. “It’s not that I mind wasting my time, it’s just that I like to know that I’m wasting my time.”
“You’re not wasting your time,” said Owen pacifically.
“It’s not as clear-cut on the Moslem side,” said Nikos, “not as well organized. There’s no reporting back, for instance, so they don’t know how well they’ve done or what mistakes they make. But instructions have to be given, so again there are lines of communication.”
“Which you’re shadowing?”
Nikos nodded.
“They don’t always work. Some of the incidents are spontaneous. The other thing is that they have a general idea of what Osman wants so they don’t bother about instructions, they just go out and do it.”
“I think I may be a secret Moslem,” Georgiades said to Owen. “You didn’t know that, did you?”
“It all comes from Osman, does it?” asked Owen.
“Yes, Osman and Andrus. They’re the two.”
“They’re the one if it all comes back to Andrus.”
Georgiades went to the door and called for Yussuf. One of the other bearers shouted back encouragingly. In Yussuf’s present numb state they had taken to covering for him.
Owen sat there thinking. He couldn’t make any sense of it. The premise that everything started from was Andrus’s hostility to anything Moslem. It had been there right from the beginning, right from the night of the dog. It ran through everything. It had never wavered. He could not believe that it was wavering now. But how else to explain his actions? The money was definitely being brought to Mordecai; and Mordecai was definitely passing it on to Osman. Not only that; Mordecai was equally definite that he was merely doing as he had been instructed. And Owen believed him.