I see. And you would like me to provide that management?
Who better?
Owen could think of lots of people he would prefer to see handling this particular case. Most people, in fact.
The Prince was watching his face.
Its not as bad as all that, he said. Were not asking you to do anything you shouldnt. Its mainly a matter of controlling the Press.
Its not easy to control the Press on something like this. Its bound to get out. In a foreign newspaper, perhaps.
In cosmopolitan Cairo with its three principal working languages and at least a dozen other widely used ones people turned as readily to the overseas press as they did to the native one. More readily, for the former wasnt censored.
Thats why I spoke of management.
I see.
Good! said the Prince briskly. Then thats all sorted out.
He looked down at the river bed below him.
Well, he said, I suppose we ought to go down. Youll be needing an identification.
Theres just one thing, said Owen.
Not there? said the Prince incredulously.
Not there? echoed McPhee.
Mahmoud did not say anything but started immediately down the slope.
By the time they got there he was already talking to the watchman.
I dont understand, said the Prince. Are you saying that this is all a mistake?
A body was reported, said Owen.
A false report?
Owen shrugged.
The watchman fell on his knees.
It was true, effendi, he protested vehemently. I saw it. I swear it. On my fathers
I begin to doubt, said the Prince coldly, whether you had a father.
The watchman swallowed.
It was there, effendi, he said, pointing to the shoal. There! I swear it.
Then where is it?
The watchman swallowed again.
I dont know, effendi, he said weakly. I dont know.
The river, effendi, insinuated the corporal sotto voce. It could be the river.
Bur the Prince had already turned away.
This is awkward, he said.
It could have been somebody else, said Owen. It neednt have been the girl.
The report was of a womans body.
Another woman, perhaps.
The Prince shrugged.
Unlikely, I would have thought. Unless you have womens bodies floating down this part of the river all the time.
Oh no, effendi, said the corporal hastily.
Awkward, said the Prince again. It would have been much more convenient Well, it must be somewhere. Youll have to find it, thats all.
Ill get on to it right away, promised McPhee. Ill alert all the police stations
Quietly, said the Prince. If thats possible with the police.
Theres a bend below the city, said Mahmoud. It will probably turn up there.
Have someone looking out for it, ordered the Prince. This needs to be handled discreetly. He looked at Owen. Youre managing this. Remember?
Owen and Mahmoud were left on the river bed.
Like it? said Owen.
No, said Mahmoud. But then, theres quite a lot I dont like.
He called the watchman over.
Come here, he said. You saw the body. Describe it.
It was a woman.
Clothed?
Of course! said the watchman, shocked.
It mightnt have been. What was she wearing?
The watchman looked down at his feet, embarrassed.
Shintiyan, he muttered.
Trousers? said the corporal, unable to restrain himself. Oh ho, Abu, this is the stuff of dreams!
Colour?
Pink, muttered the watchman.
She was not a village woman, then?
No, effendi. The watchman shook his head definitely.
What else was she wearing? A tob?
The watchman hesitated.
I think so, effendi. It was hard to tell.
The corporal guffawed.
He only saw the shintiyan!
She wore something, though, apart from the shintiyan?
Oh, yes, effendi. It was just the way she was lying, he said aside to the corporal. Thats how I came to see them.
The shintiyan were ordinary trousers, not undergarments, and came right down to the ankle.
How was she lying? asked Mahmoud.
The watchman lay down on the sand and put his arms together over his head. His body formed a kind of crescent.
Theres a hump on the shoal, he said. She was lying round that.
Show me.
They splashed out to the shoal. The water was shallow and hardly came up their knees.
The shoal was some twenty feet long, and about four feet wide. At the downstream end it rose into a little hump.
She was lying round that, said the watchman. Head that side, feet this.
The body probably caught up against it on its way downstream, said Owen.
Well, yes, said Mahmoud. Possibly. But you can see from the mud that normally the upper part of the shoal is above the water.
The wash of a boat? The Princes boat?
Possibly.
Mahmoud examined the mud carefully.
Well have to get the trackers out here, he said. I cant see anything.
Does it matter? asked Owen. If anything happened, it happened on the boat. Where the body finishes up is neither here nor there.
Yes, said Mahmoud. Except that theres one thing I find puzzling. I can accept that the body might have been carried high up on to the shoal by an exceptionally heavy wash from a boat. But I find it hard to believe in a second exceptionally heavy wash from a boat in the same morningone so heavy as to carry the body off again.
Owen had to go back to his men. He found them, as he expected, doing nothing. They were supposed to be carrying out an arms search. In fact, they were chatting peacefully in the shade.
He put them back to work. The tip had come from a reliable source. You didnt waste things like that in his business.
According to his informant, the arms had come into the quarter the previous day. The consignment was substantial, at least two donkey-loads. It would be hidden in the quarter until the necessary deals were struck and the arms could be distributed.
For a consignment as large as that hiding-places were limited. The houses in this poor part of town were single-storey, one-room affairs and there was seldom any furniture in the room. The men would simply come into the room, stand and look.
Usually they concentrated their attention on the roof. The roofs were flat and used for storage: onions, maize stalks, cattle dung being dried out for fuel, firewood.
It was under the firewood that arms were usually hidden. The men would run up the outside staircases and make straight for that.
By now, though, the sun was directly overhead and on the roofs it was unbearably hot. It was hot even to step on them. The men winced as their bare feet touched the plaster and Owen could feel the heat even through the soles of his shoes.
That was the trouble about missing a couple of hours. If he had not been called away it would have been done by now.
The men were beginning to slow down. He went round chivvying.
Two men were taking a suspiciously long time on a roof. He went up to see what they were doing.
He had maligned them. They were working. Like many of the roofs, this one had a dovecot. It consisted of large earthenware pots stacked on top of each other on their sides so that the mouths all pointed one way like a battery of guns. The doves flew in at the mouths and made their nests inside.
The trouble was that a number of the birds were inside now and the constables, country boys, were conscientiously taking them out one by one before feeling around inside.
Thats all right, he said. You dont need to do that.
You told us to check everything!
Yes, but
He was forced to admit they were right. It could be a possible hiding-place. Though only for pistols.
Dont do them all, he said. Just try a few. Otherwise youll be here all day.
We dont want to miss anything, one of them said, reaching unhurriedly into another pot.
Yes, but we want to get a move on.
Sure! they agreed equably.
They were some of the men he had borrowed from the local District Chief. Out here on the edge of the city life was still close to that of the village and the pace was very different from what it was further in.
He thought it would probably confuse them if he insisted on their moving on. Instead, hoping to expedite matters, he squatted down beside them and gave them a hand.
In the relaxed way of countryfolk, they began to chat.
Did you find what you wanted over there? asked one of them, inclining his head in the direction of the river.
Over the houses Owen caught a glimpse of blue.
No.
Nor here, either. Youre not having much luck this morning, are you?
Theres still time. If we get a move on, he said pointedly.
Oh yes. Things usually turn out right in the end.
Yes, but only if
He stopped himself. It was pointless. One of the things he had learned since coming to Egypt was that the country had its rhythms and that if you were going to get anywhere you had to work with them and not against them.
It was a body, he said, changing tack. Over there. By the river.
Oh yes.
Yes. Or rather, a body was reported. By the time I got there it had gone.
The man laughed.
Bodies have a way of doing that, he said. Or at least, on this part of the river they do.
Hows that?
Oh well, if you find one, that means more work for the Chief, doesnt it?
So he doesnt mind too much if one goes missing?
He doesnt mind at all.
How might they go missing?
All sorts of ways, said the man vaguely.
They might hit a pole, for instance, suggested his friend.
What?
The two men laughed, as at a private joke.
They can hit all sorts of things on their way downriver, said the first man, looking at his friend chidingly.
But what about when theyre washed up?
Thats when they have to be reported.
The man laughed again.
Are there people working the bank?
How do you mean?
On the lookout for things. Things that get washed ashore?
Oh yes.
Regulars?
Yes.
Are they organized? Is there a gang? A society?
The men looked at each other, then dropped their eyes.
We wouldnt know about that, they said.
They worked on carefully through the dovecot. When they had finished they patted the dovecot affectionately and climbed back unhurriedly down the stairs.
Owen sat thinking. It was a new possibility. Suppose the body had not been washed away? Suppose it had been interfered with? Suppose somebody had got to it?
Owen went to see the District Chief afterwards. He had a thing or two he wanted to tell him. To his surprise, when he reached the office he found the green car drawn up outside and the Prince about to go in.
Why, Captain Owen! said the Prince, pausing for him. How felicitous! I was just making sure that everything was covered.
Isnt McPhee supposed to be doing that?
Of course. But it sometimes helps if you remind key people which side their bread is buttered on, dont you think?
Owen wondered in what sense the District Chief was key.
The District Chief was, in fact, looking rather shaken.
After all, said the Prince with a wave of his hand, its not every day that he gets called on by both Royalty and the Head of the Secret Police. He gave Owen a sidelong glance. He is probably more impressed by the latter, Im afraid.
I doubt it, Prince.
Youre his boss, arent you?
No. He comes under Mr McPhee.
Not the Mamur Zapt? Dont they all come under the Mamur Zapt?
No, Prince. The Mamur Zapt is, well, out to one side.
You, too? Of course, things have changed. In my grandfathers time the Mamur Zapt used to control everything. He was the Khedives right-hand man, you know. The man he relied on to keep him in power.
I am afraid his scope is a little more restricted these days, Prince.
The title Head of the Secret Police was in any case something of a misnomer. Head of the Political Branch of the CID was the closest British equivalent. Perhaps, too, in army termsand some considered Egypt an occupied countryHead of Political Intelligence.
Yes. And in the old days he used to serve the Khedive.
He still does, Your Highness.
The Prince smiled.
Well, he said. I am sure you have business of your own with our friend here. Please dont let me interrupt you.
He walked over to one of the low, shuttered windows and sat on the sill.
Do carry on.
Owen hesitated.
Not secret, is it? If it is, I will at once remove myself. Though, as you said a moment ago, you are in a sense one of my servants.
The Khedives servants, certainly. No, Your Highness, you are, of course, welcome to stay. I was merely going to ask the Chief why he sent for me this morning.
But is not that obvious?
No, far from it. The proper procedure, you see, when a crime is reported, is to notify the Parquet, not the Mamur Zapt.
I see. Well, man, answer him. Why did you send for him?
The Mamur Zapt was nearby, muttered the Chief.
Well, that seems reasonable. You were nearby. And, by the way, that was very prescient of you.
Hardly. I was conducting a search for arms.
Really? In this vicinity? There does seem to be a lot going on in this neighbourhood. Arms, you say? Well, I suppose thats important.
Yes. To the Khedive as well as to me.
You think so? Yes, I suppose youre right. Theyre just as likely to be used against us as they are against you. We and the British have a lot in common. Were both unpopular.
Only with some people, Prince.
Well, yes. These Nationalists! Very trying people. My father keeps wondering whether to bring them in or keep them out. Bring them in and they want to change things. Keep them out and you deny them the chance to share in our unpopularity. Which is hardly wise, dont you think? Im all for bringing them in.