The Fig Tree Murder. Michael Pearce

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СКАЧАТЬ nasty as irritating,’ said Raoul, already sitting at the table. ‘We lost a whole day! Actually,’ he said, correcting himself, ‘it could have got nasty. We have the Mamur Zapt to thank that it didn’t.’

      He gave a polite half-bow in Owen’s direction.

      ‘What was it all about?’ asked the other member of the party carelessly. He was, Owen gathered, the son of a Pasha.

      ‘Trouble between the labourers and the villagers,’ said Salah-el-Din.

      The Pasha’s son sat up.

      ‘Villagers?’ he said. ‘Have they been making a nuisance of themselves?’

      He probably thought the villagers belonged to him. Which, until recently, they may well have done.

      ‘No, no,’ said Raoul. ‘It’s our own men.’

      ‘Actually,’ said Owen, ‘it was a body on the line.’

      ‘They could have moved it, though, couldn’t they?’ said Raoul, turning to him. ‘From what I gather, that was at the root of the trouble. If they’d let them take the body away there wouldn’t have been any bother!’

      ‘They were thinking of legal requirements, I believe,’ said Owen.

      ‘They were thinking of how they could get the day off!’

      ‘Put a body on the line?’ said the Pasha’s son.

      ‘No, no, I wouldn’t go so far as that. But make the most of it when there was a body on the line.’

      ‘They’re up to all sorts of tricks,’ said the Pasha’s son.

      ‘Well, I wouldn’t put it past them. We’ve been having some real problems with them lately. That’s where we’re hoping you’ll help us,’ he said to Owen.

      ‘I don’t reckon to intervene in labour disputes,’ said Owen.

      ‘What do you do?’ asked the Pasha’s son. ‘I’ve often wondered.’

      ‘I handle political things.’

      ‘But this is political!’ said Raoul. ‘There are some agitators who’ve got amongst them and we want you to root them out.’

      ‘The employers always think there are agitators,’ said Owen. ‘There seldom are.’

      ‘There are this time!’ declared Raoul. ‘We can identify them.’

      ‘We-ell—’

      ‘Oh, I know what you’re thinking. But we can prove it. There have been meetings between them and known Nationalists.’

      ‘Even if there have,’ said Owen, ‘that doesn’t constitute a crime. Nor, actually, does agitation.’

      Raoul looked disappointed.

      ‘I must say I was hoping you’d take a different line. This development is very important to us. And to the country.’

      ‘Damned right!’ said the Pasha’s son.

      ‘We’ve spoken to your boss, the Consul-General—’

      ‘I work for the Khedive,’ said Owen.

      ‘We know all about that. As I say, we’ve spoken to the Consul-General—’

      Government in Egypt was a thing of shadows. The formal ruler of Egypt was the Khedive and he had a government which answered to him. But since the British Army had stepped in, thirty years ago, to assist him to put down a rebellion, and then stayed, behind every Minister was a British Adviser and behind the Khedive was the British Consul-General himself. Government was a thing of shadows; but which was the substance and which was the shadow?

      ‘Yes,’ said Owen, ‘so I gather.’

      ‘Well, then—’

      ‘I’ll look into it.’

      ‘Thank you,’ said the Belgian, relieved. ‘That’s all we ask.’

      ‘However, I must repeat: I don’t reckon to involve myself in labour disputes.’

      ‘We’re not asking you to look into the labour side—’

      I’ll bet, thought Owen.

      ‘It’s the Nationalist connection that worries us.’

      ‘The Nationalist Party is usually in favour of development.’

      ‘Ah, yes, but it’s not in favour of foreigners doing the developing.’

      ‘True.’

      ‘The fact is. Captain Owen – Gareth, may I call you—?’

      ‘Please.’

      ‘The fact is, we’re not against Nationalism. Far from it. But we’ve been aware for some time that someone is trying to stop this development. And we’ve got a pretty good idea who it is.’

      ‘I hope you’re going to put something stronger in this lemonade,’ complained the Pasha’s son.

      Salah laughed.

      ‘After we’ve played!’

      He clapped his hands and a young girl came out on to the verandah.

      ‘Some more lemonade, my dear.’

      She bowed her head submissively and picked up the jug.

      The Pasha’s son watched her depart.

      ‘Who’s that?’ he said.

      ‘My daughter.’

      Owen was astounded. In all the years he had been in Egypt he had never been allowed to see a host’s womenfolk.

      ‘We try to bring her up in the modern way – having lived in Europe, you know.’

      ‘Damned good idea!’ said the Pasha’s son, eyes lingering.

      Owen reckoned she was all of fourteen.

      She returned with a fresh jug.

      ‘Fill me up!’ commanded the Pasha’s son, holding out his glass.

      The girl walked straight past him and filled Owen’s glass.

      ‘Amina—’ began Salah-el-Din.

      ‘Don’t take it out on her,’ said the Pasha’s son. ‘I like a bit of spirit.’

      Owen caught the girl’s eye as she went past. Fourteen she might be, but submissive she was not. In fact, from the look she had given him, he was having doubts about the fourteen.

      ‘I СКАЧАТЬ