He poured out a cup for Mahmoud, and then another for Ahmed, which Ahmed took without looking up.
“When did you first learn they were Tademah?” he asked, and then, as Ahmed did not reply, “At once, or later?”
Ahmed’s lips tightened.
“At once?”
There was a half-nod, suppressed.
“When you got back from Turkey?”
This time Ahmed looked up in surprise. “Yes,” he said. “How did you know?”
“You were given someone to contact?”
Again the half-nod.
“Guzman?”
The shake of the head was definite.
“Who, then?”
Ahmed made no reply.
“Farouz?”
No indication. He had obviously made up his mind to say no more. Owen sighed. He would have to work harder.
“You knew they were Tademah,” he said. “Are you saying you didn’t know they would kill?”
Ahmed’s lips remained tightly compressed.
“Not even,” said Mahmoud, coming into the conversation for the first time, “when they ordered you to kill your father?”
Ahmed looked up thunderstruck.
“No,” he said. “No. How could you think- It wasn’t like that.” “Wasn’t it?” said Mahmoud. “What was it like, then?”
He pulled his chair forward so that he was confronting Ahmed. Owen moved a little to one side to let him take over.
Ahmed started to say something, stopped, looked from one of them to the other and then said: “It wasn’t like that.”
“You heard Mustafa at the meeting.”
“Yes, but-”
“You spoke to him afterwards.”
“Yes-”
“You gave him hashish. Too much. More than you were supposed to.”
“No-”
“You found him a gun. They gave it you.”
This time Ahmed was silent.
“And you gave it to him.”
Mahmoud paused deliberately and then followed up with concentrated ferocity.
“To kill your father.”
“No,” said Ahmed. “No.”
Mahmoud sat back in his chair but did not relax the pressure. “Yes,” he said. “Yes.”
“It’s not true!”
“All those things are true,” said Mahmoud. “I’ve checked them.” “Yes, but-”
“Are you saying they’re not?”
“They’re true,” said Ahmed, almost in a shout, “but not-”
“Not what?”
“Not the last.”
“No?” said Mahmoud disbelievingly.
“It was to frighten him!” cried Ahmed. “That was all. I swear it!” “Mustafa does not say so.”
“I told him!” said Ahmed, weeping. “I told him!”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him it was to frighten only. That it would be wrong to kill. It was right to punish Nuri for what he had done, but not to commit another wrong! I told him. I swear it!”
“And Tademah,” said Owen sceptically, “did they want to punish him, too?”
“No,” said Ahmed. “That was different.”
"What did they want?”
Ahmed was silent.
"Money?”
"No,” said Ahmed. “Not money.”
“There was a note.”
“I wrote that,” said Ahmed, surprisingly.
“You wrote it?”
“Yes. To frighten Nuri. To make him think Tademah would avenge.”
“Avenge? Denshawai?”
“No, no,” said Ahmed. “The girl. Mustafa.”
“It was just part of your personal campaign?”
“Yes.”
“What did Tademah think?”
Ahmed lowered his head. “They thought it was foolishness,” he said.
“They weren’t really interested?”
“No.”
“What were they interested in, then?”
Ahmed was mute.
“Nuri’s deal? With Abdul Murr?”
Again Ahmed was surprised.
“You knew?” “They wanted to frighten him off?”
“Yes,” said Ahmed. “They weren’t really interested in the girl, but when I told them what I planned, they said they would help.”
“So they gave you the gun?”
“Yes. They said it would serve a double purpose.”
“ ‘They,’ ” said Mahmoud. “You are always saying ‘they.’ Who are they? What are their names?”
“I daren’t tell,” said Ahmed. “They would kill me.”
“You realize,” said Mahmoud softly, “that if you instigated Mustafa to commit a crime, whether Mustafa planned to kill your father or not, then you bear responsibility?”
Ahmed went ashen.
“I did not mean…” he whispered.
“Whether you meant to or not,” said Mahmoud.
“Who are ‘they’?” asked Owen.
Ahmed licked his lips. “I dare not,” he said. “They would kill me.” “I will start you,” said Mahmoud. “Guzman. Farouz. Ismail. Abu el Mak.”
The last two were the men Georgiades had arrested.
He waited.
"I do not know any others,” Ahmed protested.
“Were there others?”
“I do not know,” said Ahmed wretchedly.
“Did you ever see any others?”
“No. The printer,” he remembered.
“That was all?”
“Yes, I swear.”
“Did you hear any other names mentioned?”
Ahmed thought hard.
“No,” he said. “I do not think so.”
It was possible. Some of the societies were very small. It was possible this was. That would account for its success in going undetected. “They would kill me,” said Ahmed.
“You will be safe,” said Mahmoud, “in prison.”
“If what you say is true,” said Owen, “we hold them.”
“Guzman is free,” said Ahmed.
Owen and Mahmoud went round the corner to a Turkish restaurant. As they approached it the smell of charcoal lay pleasantly on the night air.
Mahmoud said to Owen: “What will you do with him?” “After? Let him go. Hand him over to you. He’s no use to me.” Mahmoud was silent.
“Hand him over to you, I expect,” said Owen. “At any rate the Nuri part is solved. You will be able to write it up and get it to court.” “It will never get to court,” said Mahmoud. “It will be quietly dropped. Nuri will see to that.”
Now it was Owen’s turn to be silent.
“I’ll be put on another case tomorrow,” said Mahmoud. “Nuri will already be pulling strings.”
“What about Mustafa? Will they set him up instead?”
“They might not. They’ll probably just let him out after a time. Otherwise Ahmed might not go along with it.”
“To do him justice,” said Owen.
“He’s all right. Just young.”
“Want me to keep him? For a bit?”
"No,” said Mahmoud. “He’s learned his lesson.”
They walked a few steps further. The restaurant came into view. “On second thoughts,” said Mahmoud, “perhaps you’d better keep him. Until you’ve taken care of Guzman.”
“Suppose we do catch him,” said Georgiades, “what then?”
“What then?” said Owen. “I’ll bloody well see he’s tried and convicted, that’s what’s then!”
“You’ll be lucky,” said Georgiades.
“Lucky? The case is cast-iron.”
“If it’s ever heard.”
“What do you mean?”
“It depends on Ahmed,” said Georgiades. “Will he testify?” “He’d better!”
Georgiades eased himself on his chair. Although it was still very early in the morning the heat was intense.
“Is he going to be tried himself? Ahmed, I mean?”
“Mahmoud thinks not,” Owen conceded.
“There you are!” said Georgiades.
“He may not be tried,” said Owen, “but he can bloody well testify.”
“He’ll be out of the country. His father will pay for him to have a Jong vacation. Far away.”
Owen, who was hot, too, had not expected Georgiades to take this line.
“Are you saying we can’t make this stuck?” he said with irritation.
“I’m saying it will never get to court. Guzman is one of the Khedive's staff. He will look after him.”
“Even if he’s tried to blow up the Sirdar?”
“Especially if he’s tried to blow up the Sirdar. And that’s another thing: Guzman will be a popular hero. Have you thought of that? I le’s done what every Egyptian would like to do: blow up the Sirdar. Or at any rate try to. Bring him before a court and there would be a wave of popular feeling. I can just see it.”