The Mamur Zapt and the Men Behind. Michael Pearce

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СКАЧАТЬ doubt. But—’ eyeing the pummelling Ali Osman was receiving from the eunuch—‘confined to the surface?’

      ‘The bruising goes deep.’

      ‘Of course. But—bruising only? No stab wounds?’

      ‘Some of them had knives. It was merely a matter of time.’

      ‘Yes. It was fortunate that your driver—’

      Ali Osman interrupted him. ‘They let him off lightly. Why did they pick on me? Why didn’t they beat him? He’s used to it, after all; he wouldn’t have felt it as much.’

      He seemed to be expecting an answer.

      ‘The great,’ said Owen diplomatically, ‘are the target for the world’s envy.’

      ‘Ah,’ said Ali Osman Pasha, ‘there you have it.’

      He lay silent for a while.

      ‘Of course,’ he said suddenly, ‘they didn’t think of this themselves. They were put up to it.’

      ‘You think so?’

      ‘I am sure of it. And I know who is behind it.’

      ‘Really?’

      ‘Abdul Maher.’

      ‘Abdul Maher?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘But, Pasha—’

      Abdul Maher was a veteran politician, an intimate of the Khedive, a noted public figure. He had occupied some post or other in the last dozen Governments.

      The Pasha was looking at him solemnly.

      ‘I know,’ he said.

      ‘You must have some reason—’

      ‘Motive,’ said Ali Osman.

      ‘Motive?’

      ‘He wished to take my place. Supplant me in the Khedive’s favour.’

      ‘I see,’ said Owen, as light began to dawn. ‘And that would be particularly important just at the moment’

      ‘Yes.’ Ali Osman motioned to him to come closer. ‘This is for your ear alone, my friend,’ he breathed. ‘His Highness is close to making a decision. Very close. It has been difficult. He has had to choose between those he knows are loyal to him, those who have served him well in the past. And those others who claim—’ Ali Osman snorted—‘claim they speak for the new.’

      ‘But surely Abdul Maher—’

      ‘Belongs with the old, you think? Because he has been part of every Government for the last twenty years? You would be wrong, my friend. Because there is the cunning of the man. He claims he speaks for the new!’

      ‘I cannot believe that the Khedive—’

      ‘Of course not. The Khedive knows him far too well. But he is plausible, you see, not just to the Khedive but to others. He speaks well and some may believe him. So the Khedive—well, over the past week or so the Khedive seems to have been inclining to him. But yesterday he—His Highness, that is—told me personally that Abdul Maher is absolutely out.’

      The Pasha looked at Owen triumphantly.

      ‘So, my friend, if Abdul Maher is out, someone else must be in.’

      ‘You don’t mean—’

      Ali Osman smiled importantly.

      ‘I think, my friend, that I have reason to hope.’

      Owen pulled himself together.

      ‘Well, Pasha, I can only hope you’re right.’

      ‘It is for the sake of the country, of course.’

      ‘Of course. And—and you think that Abdul Maher may have got wind of this—change of fortunes and tried to warn you off?’

      ‘Not warn,’ said Ali Osman reproachfully. ‘Kill.’

      ‘Attack, anyway. That Ali Maher may have been behind your unfortunate experience yesterday?’

      ‘Exactly,’ said Ali Osman with satisfaction.

      Owen reflected.

      ‘What are you going to do?’ asked Ali Osman.

      ‘I shall certainly treat your suggestions very seriously. I shall start investigations at once.’

      ‘Excellent.’ Ali Osman’s face clouded slightly, however. ‘How long do you think it would be before you were in a position to arrest him?’ he asked, a trifle anxiously.

      ‘Oh, a week or two. Say two or three. Perhaps four.’

      ‘You don’t think you could do it more quickly?’

      ‘I would have to complete my investigations.’

      ‘Of course. Of course.’

      Ali Osman still looked unhappy, however.

      ‘You don’t think,’ he said tentatively, ‘you don’t think you could, oh, let it be known, publicly, I mean, that you are investigating Abdul Maher?’

      ‘Why would I want to do that, Pasha?’

      ‘Oh, the public interest. It would be in the public interest. The people ought to know.’

      ‘And the Khedive?’

      ‘The Khedive ought to know, too,’ said Ali Osman, straightfaced.

      Owen smiled. He understood Ali Osman’s political manœuvres perfectly.

      ‘I am sure,’ he said, getting up to go, ‘that this is something you will manage very expertly yourself.’

      ‘Ali Osman?’ said Nuri Pasha incredulously. ‘The man’s a fool. He stands no chance whatever.’

      ‘He seems to think he does.’

      ‘The man’s a joke!’

      ‘The Khedive has given him a wink. So he says.’

      ‘Utter nonsense!’

      Nuri looked, however, a little upset.

      ‘Abdul Maher has fallen out of favour.’

      ‘Abdul Maher never was in favour. The Khedive detests him.’

      ‘Ali Osman considers him his chief rival. He believes he was behind the recent attack on him.’

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