The Mamur Zapt and the Men Behind. Michael Pearce

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СКАЧАТЬ course, if you object to my conduct of the case it is always open to the Administration to terminate my connection with it.’

      And that, from the point of view of the Parquet, would be even better. If the British could be persuaded, or provoked, into rejecting them publicly then they would not only escape odium, they might even gain credit in the eyes of the Nationalists.

      Owen smiled sweetly.

      ‘Far from objecting to your conduct of the case, I am looking forward to an extended opportunity to study the obvious talent of the Parquet in action. Just for the moment, however, I am sure you will agree that Mr Fairclough has been under very considerable strain recently and would benefit from a recess: quite a long one, I think, will be necessary.’

      Paul rang.

      ‘There’s a perfectly loathsome fellow I would like you to meet.’

      ‘No, thanks,’ said Owen. ‘I’ve got a lot on my mind.’

      ‘I know you are saving Cairo. And ordinarily I would not dream of interrupting you. But this abominable creature has been left on my hands and he will insist on seeing the night life of Cairo.’

      ‘Look—’

      ‘I am all for letting him go on his own in the hope that he won’t come back. However, the Consul-General and the Khedive take a different view. He’s a member of that delegation that’s visiting us and they think he ought to have an escort. Given the present situation. And the fact that they think they can get some money out of him.’

      ‘Can’t you escort him?’

      ‘No. I’m already escorting somebody else. The one I’m escorting is a Temperance Performer and I don’t think she and Roper would mix.’

      ‘What about young Bowden?’

      ‘Young Bowden’s too young. I like to think he doesn’t know the sort of places Roper is bent on going to. And he wouldn’t be up to it anyway. Roper’s a hard case—he’s spent some years in the diamond fields down south. Things could get out of hand. We need someone more mature and used to rough-houses.’

      ‘McPhee?’

      McPhee was the Assistant Commandant of the Cairo Police.

      ‘Used to knocking people around, certainly. But is he mature? He always strikes me as rather prim. Puritanical, too. I don’t think he and Roper would get on.’

      ‘I don’t think I’d get on with him either from what you say.’

      ‘Ah, but you have the brains to subdue personal feeling in the call of duty.’

      ‘I don’t think—’

      ‘The Old Man does. Owen’s just the chap he said.’

      ‘I’ll bet.’

      ‘True. He thinks it requires a political touch, you see. And he has a high regard for your political touch.’

      ‘Why the hell does it require a political touch?’

      ‘Because Roper has powerful friends. He’s been sent out here by some Syndicate or other who are interested in the Streeter Concession.’

      ‘Emeralds? I wouldn’t have thought there was enough of them to interest anyone big.’

      ‘I wouldn’t have thought so either. However, the Khedive does. The prospect of money, any money, is enough to send him into a tizzy. And the Old Man is just playing along. If the Syndicate finds there are more emeralds than Streeter thinks, then that’s good. Good for the Syndicate, certainly, good for Egypt, possibly. If it doesn’t, then at least the subject will have occupied the Khedive’s mind for a time and kept him out of the Old Man’s hair. So that would be good too. I don’t know about the emeralds, but Roper’s certainly valuable property. And has to be guarded.’

      ‘Oh Christ,’ said Owen resignedly.

      ‘Please please please please. And if that’s not enough, the Old Man says it’s an order.’

      Owen made one last attempt.

      ‘How about the Army? Surely some young officer—?’

      ‘Confined to barracks,’ said Paul. ‘You suggested it. Remember?’

      So that evening Owen found himself escorting the impossible Roper round Cairo’s night spots. They started with the dancing-girls since that was where Roper wanted to start: ‘The best, mind, the best.’ Owen took him at his word and led him to a place below the Citadel, since that was the quarter where the Ghawazi gipsies lived, who provided the best dancing-girls in the country.

      Roper was not, however, interested in the finer points so they moved on to the Sharia Wagh el Birket. The Sharia was picturesque in its way. One side of it was taken up by arcades with dubious cafés beneath them. The other side was given over to the Ladies of the Night. All the upper rooms had balconies; and every balcony had a Lady.

      They drooped alluringly over the woodwork and because the street was so ill-lit, indistinct suggestion prevailed over close analysis. The men sitting at the tables of the cafés opposite gathered only a heady impression of light draperies trailing exotically from lofty balconies under the deep night blue of Egypt, while from the rooms behind lamps with rose-coloured shades extended diffuse invitation.

      ‘I like a bit of class,’ said Roper, impressed.

      They went into a club beneath the balconies and watched a plump girl doing a belly-dance.

      ‘God, man, look at that!’ breathed Roper.

      Aware of his interest, the plump girl wobbled closer. Although inexpert, she had mastered sufficient of the traditional art to give the impression of being able to move the four quarters of her abdomen independently. Roper, considerably the worse for wear by this time, made a grab at her.

      The girl, used to such advances, evaded him with ease. Her tummy settled down to a steady, rhythmic rotation.

      Roper made another lunge. This time he caught her by the wrist.

      ‘Not here, sweetie!’ said the girl. ‘Upstairs.’

      She led Roper away.

      Owen beckoned the barman over.

      ‘It would be a mistake if too much happened to him. OK?’

      The barman nodded and disappeared into an inner room.

      A moment or two later he re-emerged and took up his position impassively. However, a glass suddenly materialized beneath Owen’s arm.

      ‘For the Mamur Zapt,’ the waiter whispered confidingly.

      Owen was not altogether pleased at being so famous. But Cairo, at that time a small city, was like a village.

      A dancer came over and sat in the chair opposite him.

      ‘Hello, dear,’ she said.

      ‘No СКАЧАТЬ