Mamur Zapt 15 The Point in the Market by Michael Pearce

Author:Michael Pearce [Pearce, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press, Inc.
Published: 2017-01-28T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Owen’s orderly came in.

‘Effendi,’ he said, ‘that violent woman is here again.’

‘Sabri’s wife?’

Owen got up quickly.

‘Where is she?’

‘She waits below. She will not come in.’

As they went along the corridor, the orderly said:

‘She is calm this morning, Effendi. But it may not last. Do not go too close to her. It could break out at any moment.’

She had her son with her.

‘Salah,’ she said, ‘come forward.’

The boy was carrying something in his hands, a package wrapped in cloth. He bowed shyly, then offered it to Owen.

Owen unfolded the cloth. Inside was a woman’s headband, a circlet of woven material with little gold coins suspended from it.

‘This is beautiful!’ he said. He turned it over in his hands. ‘Not from round here, surely?’ he said, puzzled.

‘It is Senussi,’ said the woman. ‘Sabri brought it back.’

‘He brought it back for you.’ Owen tried to hand it back. ‘This is too fine for me,’ he said. ‘He meant it for you. Keep it.’

She shook her head.

‘You have a wife, I know.’

‘It is a kind and generous gift. But too much.’

‘It is not as much as my son’s life is to me.’

He tried to persuade her to take it back but couldn’t.

‘It is for you,’ she insisted. ‘Sabri would have wanted it so. This is precious, yes. The Senussi—there were lots of Senussi this time—did not want to let him have it and he had to give gold. But not as precious as his son.’

He could only thank her.

‘I shall treasure this,’ he said. ‘It will remind me of Sabri and his people.’

He sent for water and dates and sat down with them in the courtyard to share them.

‘You must have set out early this morning,’ he said.

‘Not so early. Hosain lent us his donkey.’

‘There are still donkeys in the village?’

The woman laughed.

‘Anji—you remember Anji? The donkey barber?—was down in the village and he told Hosain that the Levantine was coming, and Hosain took his donkey out to the shrine—there is a shrine in the desert near us—and left it there. And when the Levantine came, Hosain pretended he hadn’t got a donkey.’

‘Well, it was useful to you this morning.’

Owen asked if he could have a private word with Salah. He led him to a place where they could sit down in the shade and said: ‘Salah, your father was a man who could walk by himself and I want you to be a man like that, too. Your father did not heed what others said, nor should you. So when men say that you should resent your father’s death, do not listen to them.’

He could sense the boy’s demurral.

‘Your father was my man, Salah, and I think now that he died on my business. It is my quarrel as well as yours, and since he died on my behalf, it is my quarrel first. Understand?’

‘All right,’ said the boy reluctantly. ‘It is your quarrel first. But if you do not pursue it, or—’ his face brightened—‘if they kill you, then it will fall to me.

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