No, the Mamur Zapt would not agree.
Are you worried about the effect on tourism? asked an American correspondent.
No. Tourists are quite safe provided that they dont do anything stupidly reckless.
Like having tea on the terrace at Shepheards? asked the man from Paris-Soir.
Owen saw Garvin standing at the back of the room. When the conference was over he came forward.
Political enough for you? he asked unkindly.
The waiters had provided a list of guests who had been in that part of the terrace at the time Monsieur Moulin disappeared and Mahmoud had spent the whole morning working through it. He had just reached an English family when Owen arrived. It consisted of a mother and daughter, and a young man with straight back and ultra-smart clothes whom Owen at once identified as an army officer.
An elderly gentleman? the mother was saying. No, I dont think so.
He always sat at the same table, the one at the top of the stairs.
No, Im afraid not.
Of course you do, Mummy! the daughter said sharply. You pointed him out to me yourself. An old man with droopy moustaches and sticks.
A gentleman I think Mrahem, the Inspector, said.
Well, he was a gentleman of sorts. Foreign, of course.
Not much of one, the young man put in heavily. Its my belief that he took that table so that he could ogle all the girls as they went in and out.
Oh, come on, Gerald! the girl said, laughing. Hes about ninety-five! Mind you, she added, that didnt stop him pressing up against me in the foyer the other evening.
Did he really? The young mans neck turned red with anger.
I was encouraging him, of course.
Lucy! That is quite enough! I think Mrahem, Inspector, you have had your answer. We have no knowledge of this, ah, person. Gentleman or not.
But, Madame, your daughter
Thank you. And now, Lucy, I am afraid it is time for us to prepare for lunch. She gathered her things and began to get up.
Mahmoud half rose and then sat down again determinedly.
I am afraid I have not quite finished, Madame. A moment or two longer, je vous en prie.
I dont think that will be necessary, said the young man, jutting his jaw.
Mahmoud looked at him coldly.
This is a criminal investigation, Mr Naylor. Would you mind leaving us?
The young man stared at him unbelievingly. What did you say?
I said would you mind leaving us.
The young mans face flushed crimson.
Gerald! said the mother warningly.
Gerald leaped to his feet. Im not putting up with this, he said. Not from a bloody Egyptian!
Gerald! said the woman very sharply.
The young man turned to her. Im sorry, Mrs Colthorpe Hartley, he said, but theres really no reason why you should be exposed to this sort of thing. This fellow
Excuse me, said Owen.
The woman looked up. He addressed himself to her rather than to the man.
Mrs Colthorpe Hartley? He put out his hand. Captain Owen. He seemed to be always using his rank these days. Perhaps it was something to do with Shepheards. I am afraid Mr El Zaki is quite right. It is rather important. Although he smiledperhaps not so important as to risk sacrificing your lunch. I wonder, though, whether your daughter could spare us a moment? It wont be longer, I promise you. Im sure you wouldnt mind, would you, Miss Colthorpe Hartley?
Well, no, of course, said the girl, slightly flustered. I havent met you at any of the balls, have I? she asked, recovering.
Not yet, said Owen, piloting her firmly away into another alcove and leaving mother and young man floundering. He sat her down on a divan and pulled up a chair for himself, leaving the one opposite for Mahmoud.
Mr El Zaki is an old friend of mine.
Is he? You speak English jolly well, she said to Mahmoud.
And French too, said Owen.
I wish I could, said Lucy. The people here speak French, dont they? As much as English, I mean.
Its a great mixture.
Have you been in Egypt long? she asked Owen.
Two or three years.
You look so brown!
I was in India before that.
Were you? Gosh, Id like to go to India. Only Daddy says it is too expensive.
Where is your father? said Owen, looking round.
Having a drink, I expect. He cant bear to come shopping with us.
Was he on the terrace too? asked Mahmoud.
He joined us out there.
About what time was that?
Four oclockish. Mummy always likes her tea about then.
That was when your father joined you?
Yes. He was a bit behind us, as usual. He always takes ages over his shower.
When you came out on to the terrace was Monsieur Moulin already there?
You mean that old man with sticks?
Yes, thats right.
I sort of noticed him, I think, though I couldnt swear to it. Wait a minute, yes, I did notice him. He was looking around. I thought perhaps hed lost that girl of his.
What girl of his?
You know, that girl whos always hanging round him. His bit of fluff.
Bit of fluff? said Mahmoud, completely lost.
Yes. Lucy frowned in concentration. His petite amie. Thats what you would say, isnt it? She smiled at Mahmoud.
Well, maybe, said Owen. That would depend on the circumstances. Can you tell us about this lady, Miss Colthorpe Hartley?
Well, sheswell, first of all, I think my mother would say shes not a lady. Not just foreign, I mean, but definitely not a lady.
Shes French, is she?
Yes, I think so. Shes blonde, not dark like they usually are, and its real blonde too, not dyed. Although shes common, shes also quite sophisticated, if you know what I mean, at least thats how she strikes me. Shes terribly well dressed. It must have cost a fortune. If only Daddy would let me spend that amount of money! Thats sugar-daddy sort of money, not daddy sort of money. I say, thats pretty good, isnt it! I must tell Gerald that.
Would he understand? asked Owen.
Lucy laughed merrily. Hes not as stupid as all that, she protested. Well, not quite as stupid. You dont like Gerald much, do you, Captain Owen?
Not much.
Why was he saying that? This was supposed to be a formal investigation, not party chit-chat. He must have caught it from her.
But are you sure shes Monsieur Moulins petite amie and not Monsieur Berthelots? Mahmoud intervened.
Monsieur?
Berthelot. The young man who accompanied Monsieur Moulin. His nephew.
Oh, I know the one you mean. The one with the bulging eyes. Well, no, I dont think so, though you often see them together.
Does she come out on the terrace too?
Only in the evening. I expect, said Lucy acidly, that she doesnt have time. It takes her so long to make up.
Then why, asked Mahmoud, when you came out on to the terrace yesterday afternoon and saw Monsieur Moulin looking around, did you think he had lost her?
My goodness! said Lucy. You are sharp! Hes caught me out, hasnt he? she appealed to Owen.
He has.
I dont know why I said that. Its my silly tongue running away with me again. What did I mean? She thought hard.
Well, its true, she said after a moment, or it might have been true. Shes always hanging round him. Its so blatant. I should think he jolly well might have felt lost when she wasnt there for once.
And she wasnt there?
No. And it is true that you dont usually see her on the terrace in the afternoons. Not till later. I think, said Lucy, giggling, that she finds it hard to get up. Perhaps shes worn out!
Lucy shrieked with laughter. Mrs Colthorpe Hartley, sitting obediently outside the alcove but not abandoning her post, looked at her disapprovingly. The young man beside her stirred unhappily.
So she definitely wasnt on the terrace yesterday afternoon but he definitely was?
Yes, thats right. Youve got it.
And youre sure about that? About him being there, I mean?
Lucy thought again. Yes, Im pretty sure. She tossed her head. No, Im definitely sure.
And that would have been about fourish. Youre not able to place the time more precisely?
About five to four. Were always on the terrace by four.
And then you had tea. Was Monsieur Moulin having tea?
No, I dont think so.
He was just sitting at the table?
Yes.
Looking around for someone? As if he was expecting them?
Yes. Of course, now I think about it, it might not have been her.
And then what?
Well, then we finished our tea.
And did you notice Monsieur Moulin any more? Did you see him leave his table, for instance?
No.
Go down the steps?
He might have been ogling me, said Lucy with a toss of her curls, but I wasnt ogling him.
You stayed on the terrace for about how long?
About an hour.
And when you left, was Monsieur Moulin still at his table?
No, said Lucy.
Thats definite, is it?
Yes, because I can remember seeing the tea-things on the table and wondering why the waiters hadnt cleared them. Theyre very good here, you know.
One last question, Miss Colthorpe Hartley, said Mahmoud. You said your father joined you later?
A bit later.
Thank you. In fact, thank you very much for being so helpful.
Im glad Ive been helpful, said Lucy. Im not usually. Daddy says Im scatterbrained, but Im not really. I just sometimes choose to be scatterbrained.
She got up to go. Mahmoud rose too.
Youre very nice, arent you? she said to him. Youve got such sweet brown eyes. But such a sad face!
I havent got a sad face, have I? asked Mahmoud.
They were having lunch round the corner. By the time they had finished with Miss Colthorpe Hartley, it was nearly noon. The heat had driven everyone off the terrace and back into the cool of the hotel, first to lunch and then to the darkness of their bedrooms.
Owen normally worked till one-thirty and then went to lunch at the Sporting Club but today it was too hot even to do that, so he and Mahmoud found a small Turkish café in one of the side streets near the hotel. Even that was nearly deserted. Although these were one or two tables outside, none of them was taken. The few customers had retreated with the proprietor into the dark depths of the interior where the sun never penetrated. A small boy served them with cups of Turkish coffee and glasses of iced water. They would eat later.
No, I dont think so. Owen considered him. No, I dont think so at all.
Mahmoud if anything looked very bright and alert. Miss Colthorpe Hartley must have been misled by his Arab looks.
Sometimes I feel depressed, said Mahmoud. I felt depressed this morning when I was talking to the old lady and the man.
Dont take any notice of him. Hes just a stupid bastard.
Mahmoud shrugged. Hes just Army, thats all. Im used to people like him. But the old lady was different. She was very polite but she made me more depressed, if anything. She reminded me of Nuri.
Nuri Pasha was a common acquaintance and the father of what might have been called, if anyone had dared risk the description since there was nothing petite about Zeinab and she was a forceful person, Owens own petite amie.
Its because theyre the same generation and have similar social backgrounds, said Owen. She put my back up too.
Shes rich, of course. She must be, to be at the hotel.
Its not just that.
Its the way they look down on you.
I wouldnt let it bother you.
Its easier for you.
Not much.
Being British, I mean.
We escape some things, but dont escape others.
You feel about her the way I feel about Nuri?
More or less.
Mahmoud thought this over. Then he said: Of course it adds to it when theyre foreign. I sometimes feel quite pleased when something like this happens.
A kidnapping?
When a Moulin gets kidnapped.
Youve got to take action.
Oh, I know that. And I do. He suddenly cheered up. Though not in the hottest part of the day. Theres no point in going back now. Ill go back about four. Hell be up from his siesta then.
He?
Mr Colthorpe Hartley. He came out on the terrace later, remember. He may have seen something.
Fellow with long moustaches and sticks? said Mr Colthorpe Hartley. Yes, I saw him. Always sitting there. Same table, same time. Looking as if hes growing there.
Youre sure it was yesterday?
Mr Colthorpe Hartley considered a moment.
Yes. Definitely. Saw him when I came out of the hotel. I was a bit behind the others, you know. Had a longer shower than usual. Bit damned hot just at the moment, isnt it? You need a shower even when youve just been lying down.
And you definitely saw him?
Oh yes. Exchanged nods. Dont know the chap, of course, but you sort of know him when you see him every day. We pass the time of day. I say something, he says something back. Nothing much. I dont think he speaks much English. And I certainly dont speak French.
He didnt say anything yesterday? I mean, nothing particular.
No. Hardly noticed me. Seemed a bit preoccupied. Mind on other things. Didnt stay there long.
Did you see him go?
Did I see him go? Let me think. No. I dont think I saw him go. Saw hed gone, but thats not the same thing.
Can you pinpoint when that was? About how long after youd got to the terrace?
Well, I must have got to the terrace about four. Saw him then. Nodded to him. Sat down. Had tea. Noticed he was a bit fidgety. Then when I next looked up he had gone. Say about twenty minutes. Between twenty past four and half past four.