Mamur Zapt 12 Death of an Effendi by Michael Pearce

Author:Michael Pearce [Pearce, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780007400485
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 1999-03-14T21:00:00+00:00

8

‘You are quite mistaken,’ said Owen.

Natasha shrugged.

‘Am I? In my country when a man goes for a walk with the Head of the Secret Police and does not come back there is no need to ask what happened.’

‘This is not your country, madame,’ said Mahmoud.

‘It is the same.’

‘It is not the same,’ said Mahmoud, stung.

‘Why would I want to kill Tvardovsky?’ said Owen.

‘Because you are the Khedive’s servant. Remember? You told me that day by the lake. At least you were honest.’

‘The Khedive, then,’ said Mahmoud: ‘Why would he wish to see Tvardovsky killed?’

‘Because he, too, is a servant. Their servant. He does what he is told. He has to. He is in debt and the British have an army here.’

‘That has been true for a long time. Why should it suddenly be necessary to kill Tvardovsky?’

‘Do you know what he said once? He said that the Big Powers were like crocodiles, waiting on the bank, ready to slide into the water when the moment came. Well, the moment had come.’

‘Moment—?’

‘That conference. It was going to be the first of several. They were going to take it in turns. To carve up Egypt. First, Russia, then the others. Another thing that Tvardovsky said: “It is when the crocodiles start cooperating that you really have to watch out!” ’

She smiled, bitterly, to herself in recollection.

‘Well, the crocodiles had started to cooperate.’

‘What has all this got to do with Tvardovsky?’ said Owen.

‘He thought he could stop it. And he thought he might be able to do it then, at that very first conference. It was because they were Russians, you see. He thought they might listen to him. He said that, deep down, Russians understood these things. They do not naturally think in terms of competition. So he thought he might be able to persuade them – show them that there was a different way.’

‘You mean that cooperative project of his? It never stood a chance!’

‘Of course it didn’t. You made sure of that,’ said Natasha.

‘You surely don’t believe her?’ said Owen, when she had gone.

‘Of course not!’ said Mahmoud.

He looked unhappy, however.

‘But there are things,’ he started to say, then stopped. ‘This conference,’ he began again. ‘The secrecy. The obstruction!’ He looked at Owen. ‘And then the gun. Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I thought it was obvious. I was guarding him. What else do you think I was doing there?’

‘You had a handgun, yes?’

‘Yes.’

‘Which you took out of your pocket? And put in another one? As she said?’

‘It got wet. It was in my hip pocket and the boat was full of water.’

‘Yes,’ said Mahmoud. ‘I understand.’ He hesitated. ‘Why, precisely, were you guarding him?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know?’

‘They didn’t tell me.’

‘But, surely—?’

‘The request came through in the ordinary way and I just took it for granted that it was the usual – I mean, from time to time you get people coming through, and they say, stick a guard on him, and it’s not because there’s a specific reason, it’s just that he’s, sort of, generally important.

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