‘What was the trouble?’
‘I don’t know exactly. There was a sort of Nationalist movement, anti-Russian, of course, and he was involved. How far it got, I don’t know, but he’s much admired, down in the Der, as a man of action.’
‘Sorgos likes men of action,’ said Owen.
‘They need money,’ said Nikos. ‘That’s it, isn’t it? We know they were having difficulty in finding it-Nicodemus said so. Well, time is running out. They’ve got to find it quickly. So they’ve had to turn to this.’
‘Commissioning a gang to get it for them?’
‘Why not? We’ve said all along they’re amateurs. It’s the first time they’ve done anything like this. Want money? How about a spot of protection? Don’t know how to go about it? How about someone who does?’
‘And you find someone near to you, a gang in the Fustat, and you approach them through an intermediary because you don’t know any gangs yourself. I can see all that: but what I don’t see is how they are paying for it. If it’s with money, that destroys the object.’
‘Favours. The world runs on favours. Especially the Arab world.’
‘The gang owes this fellow Hussein a favour, OK, and that’s why they’re doing it. But what is Hussein getting? What can Sorgos and the others give him?’
‘Maybe they don’t have to give him anything. Maybe he’s returning a favour too.’
‘And they’re just calling it in?’
‘That’s right. They’re owed the favour and they’re exchanging it for cash. This way.’
‘It’s possible,’ said Owen, ‘but-’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Why do they have to do it this way? Why go in for all the complication? Why do they have to use explosives? Why not use a bullet? It would be much simpler.’
Nikos and Georgiades looked at each other. Both shrugged.
‘Does it matter?’ asked Georgiades. ‘So long as that’s the way they are doing it.’
‘No,’ Owen admitted.
‘That certainly seems the way they’re committed to,’ said Nikos. ‘Sorgos is still rushing around desperately trying to buy gold and the only reason I can see for that is that it’s crucial to them if they want to get their hands on the explosives in time.’
‘No money,’ said Georgiades, ‘no explosives!’
‘That being so,’ said Nikos, ‘isn’t the next step obvious?’
Chapter 10
'My young friend from the mountains!’ cried Sorgos.
‘Not this time,’ said Owen; ‘the Mamur Zapt.’
Sorgos’s smile disappeared.
‘So,’ he said. ‘It has come. I had hoped-But never mind. You have your duty to do. Well, do it.’
He held out his hands.
‘Not yet,’ said Owen. ‘Let us talk. It may not be necessary.’ He followed Sorgos into the small room.
‘Well?’ said Sorgos, turning and facing him.
‘I had hoped you would have heard my words,’ said Owen. ‘You are in a country which has treated you with honour and justice. I had hoped you would respond likewise.’
Sorgos drew himself up. His eyes flashed.
‘Do you accuse me of not behaving with honour?’
‘What you are to yourself cannot be separated from what you are to the country you have come to.’
‘What I owe to myself is a private matter!’ said Sorgos furiously.
‘If you were a guest in a man’s house, and your enemy came to that house and was also received as a guest, would you offend your host’s kindness?’
‘I would wait until my enemy left before killing him.’
‘Then do the same here, where you are also a guest.’
‘Do you think I have not thought of that?’
‘I think you have not thought of that enough.’
‘It is not just I,’ said Sorgos, not giving an inch; ‘it is my people.’
‘The Mingrelians? Does not what I have said apply to them, too? Are they not also guests?’
‘We have suffered,’ said Sorgos, breathing heavily, ‘and we will be revenged.’
‘Is that what Mingrelians do,’ asked Owen, ‘offend their host?’
‘They kill their enemies,’ said Sorgos fiercely.
‘Anywhere? In the house of another, so that the blame will fall on them? Can this be honour?’
Sorgos was for a moment at a loss.
‘This, too, is a country. Here, too, are a people,’ said Owen, pressing home his advantage. ‘Why should they suffer because of a cause which is not theirs?’
‘It is theirs,’ said Sorgos fiercely. ‘It is every man’s cause. Why should the poor, the small, the weak be trodden down by the mighty? It is not Russia that we are resisting but oppression!’
‘A man must choose his cause,’ said Owen, ‘and you must let them choose theirs.’
‘I had hoped,’ said Sorgos, ‘that you, as a man from the mountains, would understand.’
‘I do understand. It is because I come from a country like yours, small, like yours, proud, like yours, that my heart goes out to you. We, too, have been invaded, oppressed, for much longer than you have, for many centuries. And from the centuries we have learned a lesson: that death breeds death. For a people to live there must be an end to the killing.’
‘They took away our country,’ said Sorgos. ‘They did not take away yours. For a people to live, they must have a land. When even that is taken away, all you are left with is the spirit. In time even that will fade. The young-I must not say that, Katarina says I must not say that, that the young have always been like this but that somehow they grow up and then are like the old. That they will care as I do and fight as I do. But,’ said Sorgos, ‘I fear-’
‘It is for them to choose,’ said Owen, ‘not for you.’
‘I am the last,’ said Sorgos. ‘In my heart I know it. I had hoped to rebuild a people but they turn their backs on me. Even my granddaughter does not understand when I say that there must be children. The time is coming when the Mingrelians will be no more. Well, so let it be. But if it has to end, let it end with honour. I will kill the Grand Duke.’
‘I had hoped to persuade you otherwise.’
‘You mean well,’ said Sorgos, ‘but you come too late.’
‘I do not think so. Where is the gold?’
‘The gold?’ said Sorgos, starting back.
Owen went to the door and threw it open. The men began to file in.
‘Here is my search warrant,’ he said, pulling it out of his pocket and showing it to Sorgos.
‘Katarina!’ cried the old man.
Owen ran out. She was not in any of the rooms at the back, nor in any of those upstairs. He ran out into a small yard at the back of the house in which clothes were hanging up to dry. From one side of the yard a flight of steps ran up to the roof. Owen raced up them.
Katarina was bending over a pile of brushwood. As with many of the houses, the roof was used not just for sleeping on in hot weather but also for storing fuel and vegetables.
Owen kicked the wood aside. Beneath, was a pile of onions. He kicked these aside too. They were covering a drain. He lifted the lid and felt inside. A bag, very heavy, and then a second one. He lifted them out.
‘You were very quick,’ he said, looking up at Katarina.
‘I was listening,’ she said.
He carried the bags downstairs.
‘All right,’ he said, and the men stopped searching. ‘You can go now.’
They all filed out.
‘Do you want me as well?’ said Katarina, flushed and angry.
‘You are with him in everything. Yes, I know. Even when it comes to blowing up innocent people with explosives. No, I don’t want you. I don’t even, as a matter of fact, want him.’
‘I am ready,’ said Sorgos fiercely.
‘You stay here. For the time being.’
‘You are not arresting me?’
Sorgos seemed bewildered.
‘No. And I hope now that I will never need to.’
‘But-?’
Katarina suddenly understood.
‘He has not come for you,’ she said.