Sherlock Holmes, The Missing Years: Timbuktu by Vasudev Murthy

Sherlock Holmes, The Missing Years: Timbuktu by Vasudev Murthy

Author:Vasudev Murthy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press
Published: 2015-10-14T16:00:00+00:00


I walked with Haji Al-Kaburi to another large room where a number of others had started assembling for an early lunch, as was the custom. Al-Kaburi introduced me to many as his guest from Uzbekistan. He hailed Toumani Kouyate and the three of us sat on a thick carpet together as slaves came by to serve us. The fare was interesting, though challenging to an epicurean perhaps. Goat meat, goat cheese, camel meat, millet, yam, fruits, and so on. It was expected that I would eat this alien fare constantly.

“Toumani Kouyate, Yaqub Beg is an interesting guest. You may be able to answer his questions.”

“Yes, we rarely get visitors from Uzbekistan at Sankore.” Toumani Kouyate bit into some salted mutton.

“Do you know who he really is?” smiled Al-Kaburi.

“I only know him as Yaqub Beg.” His lack of interest was obvious.

“His real name is Yaqub Beg Batuta, Toumani Kouyate!”

Toumani Kouyate stopped eating and stared at me.

“Is that so?”

“I believe it is the case. I hope to convince you.”

“But you are not a Qadi.”

“No. We are descendants of Ibn Batuta in a different way. He brought a concubine from Tabriz to Uzbekistan. When he left, she was carrying and he left her behind. We are descendants of the son she gave birth to.”

“A very interesting story.” He paused for a few moments. “But I do not recall reading about Ibn Batuta’s son in Bukhara in the Al-Rihla.”

“It would not have been possible, Toumani Kouyate, because Ibn Batuta did not return and therefore never knew for a fact that he had a son.”

Toumani Kouyate looked sceptical. “Then what proof do you have that you are indeed a descendant? Anyone could have made up such a story.”

“I would not dare to do so at such a holy place, Toumani Kouyate. But I understand your point. I have proof.

“I have with me a letter that the dying Ibn Batuta sent to Uzbeg Khan from Tangier. Uzbeg Khan handed it over to the son when he became an adult. In our family tradition, it was hoped that if a male child had the resources, he would visit Timbuktu and present this letter to the custodians of the Sankore Mosque. I am the first such person who could afford to travel such a distance. But I would like to show that letter to you in Haji Al-Kaburi’s room because it is an old and delicate parchment and I would not like to show it while eating.”

Toumani Kouyate continued to look sceptical. Al-Kaburi smiled at me and shook his head slightly. We then changed the topic and I asked the two about the students, the curriculum, the faculty and so on.

We returned to Al-Kaburi’s room, where I found Watson sitting quietly in his assigned niche. I was most impressed by his forbearance. I had not anticipated that he would be so obedient a slave.

We sat down on the carpet and the conversation resumed.

***

Haji Al-Kaburi repeated Yaqub Beg Batuta’s question about the storage of manuscripts to Toumani Kouyate.

“Yes, Yaqub Beg, we have thousands of scrolls and books,” said Toumani Kouyate.



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