‘But then-? What have you come for?’
Owen picked up the bags of gold dust.
‘You can have them back,’ he said. ‘After.’
‘Why didn’t you arrest him while you were at it?’ said Georgiades.
‘There’s still time for them to change their plans. They could still try a bullet. I want him free so that he can run around and talk to the other people. Then we can pick them up.’
‘They’re not going to be as naive as that,’ said Nikos doubtfully.
‘You’ve been saying how naive they are. A bunch of amateurs. Well, we’ll see. Anyway,’ said Owen with satisfaction, ‘I reckon we’ve put a spoke in their wheel.’
‘No gold, no explosives!’ said Georgiades. ‘Neat!’
‘It’s nicer to do it this way,’ said Owen, ‘if we can.’
He looked round the table.
‘Right, now let’s look at preparations for the visit generally: how are things going? Nikos?’
Nikos spread out his papers.
‘And now,’ said Paul, settling himself into his chair, ‘about the preparations for the Grand Duke’s visit: how are things going? His Highness arrives at Alexandria this afternoon and transfers to the Khedivial Yacht tomorrow morning. Now, is everything in hand? Mamur Zapt?’
‘No reports of intended action. Except, of course, for our Mingrelian friends, and there, I hope, we have been able to take preventive measures.’
‘Good. Any feel for the popular mood?’
‘Indifferent.’
‘Welcoming,’ put in the Khedive’s representative hastily. ‘Eager anticipation.’
‘Oh, good. That will be very important when we come to the procession. But that, of course, is near the end of the visit. Let’s take it in order. First, the Khedivial Yacht and the journey through the Suez Canal-’
The meeting droned on. The flies dipped in sympathy. Had they fallen asleep, Owen wondered. Now, that was interesting. Were committee meetings so boring that even the flies fell asleep? Could you use the flies as a measure of the boringness of a committee? You could release, say, six flies at the start of a committee and see at what point they all sank soporifically down. You could even measure rates. If they all sank down pretty soon after the start of the meeting, God, that was a hell of a meeting-
‘Captain Shearer?’
‘I think I can confidently say, gentlemen,’ concluded Shearer, ‘that all preparations are now complete and that the Army is ready for all contingencies.’
‘Hear, hear!’ said the major.
‘Including explosives?’ asked Owen.
‘Explosives? Well-’
‘Bloody hell!’ said the major.
‘Depends how they’re used,’ said Shearer, frowning. ‘We’ll line the streets during the procession and keep people well back, beyond throwing distance-’
‘Suppose they’re buried or hidden in a building? A large cache?’
‘A mine, you mean?’ said the major, disturbed.
‘That sort of thing.’
‘Well, it would be difficult to guard against all eventualities,’ said Shearer, less confidently. ‘I mean, we’d have to check all the buildings beforehand-’
‘ All the buildings?’ asked Paul. ‘I’m a bit worried about the practicalities of this.’
‘We’d have to get in some extra men, of course. There’s a battalion of British troops at Aden, and there may be just time to ask India-’
‘It would look bad,’ said Paul. ‘It would suggest we couldn’t cope with things ourselves.’
‘We can handle it,’ said Shearer automatically. ‘We can handle it.’
‘Are you sure?’ asked Paul.
‘We’ll need sappers,’ said the major worriedly. ‘Mines are damned nasty things.’
‘How serious a possibility is this?’ asked Paul, looking at Owen.
‘Oh, a definite possibility. We’ve heard that some explosives, possibly connected to the visit of the Grand Duke, are coming in at Suez.’
‘My God!’ breathed the major.
‘We’ll do all we can to intercept them, of course,’ said Owen, ‘but I can’t guarantee anything. There’s too much coming into Suez for us to be able to search everything. I have to say that it remains a possibility, a distinct possibility. Thought you’d like to know,’ he said sweetly to Shearer, ‘since you’ll be taking responsibility for the procession.’
‘What’s this?’ said Paul.
‘Captain Shearer and I have agreed. He is assuming full responsibility for the procession. Unified policing,’ said Owen innocently.
Paul had been trying to catch his eye, and when the meeting was over and the Army had departed he came up to him. ‘Now, look,’ he said, ‘ I’m in that procession-’
‘It’ll be all right,’ Owen assured him hastily. ‘It’s not as bad as that. I think I’ve put a spoke in that particular wheel. But I just thought it might give Shearer a sleepless night or two.’
‘Perhaps I could get the Old Man to travel at the front of the procession instead,’ said Paul thoughtfully.
Owen was meeting Zeinab for lunch after the meeting and he suggested that Paul should come along.
‘An aperitif, perhaps,’ said Paul, glancing at his watch. ‘I’ll tell her about the arrangements I’ve been making for the Grand Duke’s visit.’
‘Paul, I don’t think she’s that interested-’
‘She will be in what I have to tell her,’ said Paul confidently. ‘It’s about the opera. Now, I’ve really been giving my mind to this. It’s our one chance to get something out of this damned visit so we must take it. I’ve been saying to everyone that we’ve simply got to have an opera or the visit won’t be a true replica of the previous one. I know that in fact they didn’t actually get to see an opera, but the point is they would have seen one if it had been ready. It was there in spirit. That’s what I told the Khedive yesterday, anyway, and he agreed. He likes the colour and the clothes and the pretty women. Oh, and the music, too. Anyway, he’s agreed.’
‘Wonderful! But, Paul, surely there won’t be time to-’
‘Oh, it won’t be a completely new production. There isn’t time for that. It’ll have to be one they’ve got in repertoire, but that’s La Boheme, so that’s all right. Zeinab will like that. She always identifies with Mimi. Now my idea is this: we can’t change the opera but we can change the singers. Or at least some of them. So why not get in somebody special? Fonseca and Peppone, say. There’s still time for them to get here from Italy. Somebody special for a special occasion, I said to the Khedive. He liked that.’
‘It’ll cost millions!’
‘Yes, but Finance won’t find out until it’s all over. That’s the beauty of it, you see.’
‘Well, I do see, but-’
‘I can’t wait to tell Zeinab.’
The Ismailiya, where Owen was meeting Zeinab, was the modern European quarter of Cairo. There were the business houses, banks and consulates; there, too, the hotels and fashionable shops, the salons and the French-style cafes. No storytellers outside them! And there was Zeinab, dressed a la Parisienne, conceding so much to Egypt as to wear a veil, but not so much as for it to be one that would be a soupcon out of place on the Faubourg St Honore.
On hearing Paul’s news about the opera she went straight for the jugular.
‘So,’ she said, ‘two dresses, not one. That makes it even more impossible. There’s still time. Are you going to send the cable or not?’
‘Not,’ said Owen firmly.
‘Cable?’ said Paul. ‘What cable?’
‘To her couturier. In Paris. By the Diplomatic Postbag.’
‘Why not?’ said Paul.
‘There you are!’ said Zeinab triumphantly. ‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s a misuse of public funds. Why can’t she use the Post and Telegraphs like everyone else?’
Zeinab put her hand on Paul’s.
‘He is a simple man,’ she said. ‘He does not understand these things. But you understand them, don’t you? You understand that there are some things a woman might wish to keep secret from other women until the right moment, the moment of eclat, that she might not wish to blazon her secrets through all Cairo by using the public Post Office?’
‘You overrate the interest of all Cairo in what you are going to wear.’