He should really now be handing this over to the Parquet. They handled all investigations that were purely criminal. They would have little trouble, he thought, with this one. If Ali was well known down by the docks, the chances were that the other members of the gang would be too. Criminal gangs were local not just in their operations but in their recruitment. Their members would all come from the same neighbourhood, probably from within a few streets of each other. They would make little secret of their membership; in fact, rather the reverse. Membership of a notorious gang was a matter of local pride-again, unlike the political clubs. Theyll miss you, Ali, he said, down in the Fustat.
Ali flinched, as if he had received a blow. It was probably the first time that it had come home to him.
You should think over what I said, Ali. Youre going to be away for quite some time. So long that when you come out and go back to the Fustat it will be no good going down to the ferry and asking who knows Ali with the scarred face. Because no one will. As for the Black Scorpion-
Black Scorpion? said Ali. What have they got to do with it?
Thats your lot, isnt it?
Is this some kind of trick? said Ali. Look, you cant get me for what someone else has done! Thats not fair! Thats not justice! Look, Ive got my rights!
If youre not Black Scorpion, said Owen, then who are you?
You know who we are.
Just say!
The Edge of the Knife. Now are you satisfied?
Black Scorpion is what she said, insisted Selim afterwards, irate. Look, Effendi, who do you believe? An idle bastard who goes around hitting people on the head; or a woman so virtuous she goes to the mosque every day and wont let a man put his hands on her?
Are you sure thats what she said?
Effendi, would I make a mistake on a thing like this? When you had asked me especially?
Well, maybe she made the mistake, then.
Effendi, why waste time? Let me go in and have a talk with that stupid bastard. Well soon find out whos made a mistake. And its my guess its him. As hell bloody soon discover!
Enough! We will go and speak with Mustapha. Hes the one who will know. Maybe his wife got it wrong.
Effendi-
Selim fumed all the way to the cafe.
Oh, its you, said the proprietor unwelcomingly. I didnt think wed be seeing you again. I thought theyd about finished you off.
Next time, promised Selim, with a flash of white teeth, theyre the ones who are going to be finished off.
Youll have to make a better job of it then than you did this time.
It was four to one! protested Selim indignantly.
It was my mistake, said Owen. I should have left you more men.
What, drinking my coffee? said Mustapha. No thanks!
Shame on you! said his wife. When the man was ready to lay down his life for you!
She went across to Selim and gently touched his bandaged head.
How are you? she said, concerned. It was a grievous wound.
Pretty grievous, Selim acknowledged.
And you have walked all this way in the heat?
Well, yes, Selim had to admit.
Oh, Effendi! The man is still weak from his wounds!
I do feel a bit weak, Selim conceded, putting a hand to his head.
So do I, said Mustapha. Any moment now shell be giving him my money.
The woman flashed him an indignant glance.
Come and sit down, she said to Selim.
I could do with a drink, said Selim.
Water or coffee?
There you are! cried Mustapha. There goes my money!
Coffee, please, said Selim.
She led him off into the kitchen.
You havent got any more men outside, have you? asked Mustapha. I mean, I might as well feed the whole Bab-el-Khalk while Im at it.
His wife poked her head back into the room.
God looks after the hospitable, she said reprovingly.
Well, I wish Hed make a start, then.
Mustapha sat down gloomily at a table and motioned to Owen to join him.
This is very bad for business, you know. People dont like to come here if they think theres a chance of them being knocked on the head.
Custom falling off?
Not so far, Mustapha admitted. But Im having to work extra hard to keep it up. I used to get a storyteller in only on slack days. Now Im paying for one all the time.
Eats into profits?
Increases the losses. Now theres a thing. Had a chap in this week offering to insure against losses. A fat Greek.
Owen winced.
Tempting! said Mustapha. Especially when youre in my position. I said, did it include losses caused by standing out against protection? Certainly, he said. Well, I mean, its tempting. I mean, were not getting far as we are, are we?
Oh, yes, we are, said Owen. Getting that man yesterday was a breakthrough. Once youve got one member of a gang, its generally easy to get the others.
You think so? You really think so?
Oh, yes.
Wellwell, I hope youre right.
Mustapha cheered up.
How about some coffee? Mekhmet! Where are you, you idle bastard? Some coffee for the Effendi! And for me, too, while youre at it!
He looked around the cafe with satisfaction.
Soon get things moving again.
Im sure of that.
He looked around the cafe with satisfaction.
Soon get things moving again.
Im sure of that.
And you really reckon things might be coming to an end?
Yes. Hes beginning to talk.
Good. Well, take my advice and kick the bastards balls through the back of his ass. Make sure he talks on!
Yes, hes saying things already, said Owen. But one of them has surprised us. Id just like to check it with you. Its the name of the gang. What was it you told us?
I didnt tell you, said Mustapha.
But we heard all the same. Black Scorpion?
Mustapha nodded.
Are you sure?
Look, Effendi, you dont make mistakes on things like that. Oh dear, sorry, paid the wrong gang. Made a mistake! Its not like that, Effendi, believe me!
I just wanted to be sure.
They even wrote it down. The first time. Just so as I would know.
Got the note?
Mustapha heaved himself painfully off his seat and disappeared upstairs. A minute or two later he was back, holding a scruffy piece of paper in his hand.
Owen looked at it.
This is puzzling, he said.
Oh, why? Its the Black Scorpion, isnt it? Look, there! He pointed with a grubby forefinger.
Yes. But the man weve got, the men who came yesterday, were not from the Black Scorpion gang. They were from another one.
Mustapha sat down heavily.
Another one?
So he says. The Edge of the Knife.
Mustapha was silent for quite some time.
Two of them, he said at last. Two of them. God, how many more?
Oh! Oh! Oh! cried the names as the blind man landed on top of them. The blind man felt the bag with his hands Got you! he said triumphantly. There was a long silence, about as long as it takes for a dog to drink a bowl of water, and then one of the names said: Got who? Why, Rice Puddings new name, of course! said the blind man. Ah, yes, but how will you know which one of us it is? Well, the blind man thought and thought-
The storyteller was seated on the stone mastaba, or bench, which ran along the front of the cafe. Around him, some sitting on the mastaba beside him, others on the ground, yet others, detained by the story as they passed by, standing in the street, was a circle of listeners. At the back of the crowd, engrossed, was Selim. Owen edged his way round towards him.
I know, he said at last. Ill feel you. And he put his hand in the bag and caught hold of one of the names. Get your hands off me, you great, rude, dirty fellow! said a shrill little voice. That doesnt sound like Rice Puddings new name, said the blind man, and it doesnt feel like Rice Puddings new name, either. Its all hard and sharp. And he dropped the name back in the bag and caught hold of another one. This one was soft and round. Hello, big boy! it said in a low, husky voice-
This is beginning to get interesting, said Selim.
Now the blind man knew very well that this was not Rice Puddings new name but he allowed himself to be beguiled. Ill just have another feel to make sure, he said to himself-
Very sensible, said Selim, ignoring Owens signals.
-when, all of a sudden, something wriggled out of the bag and ran off down the street. The blind man made a grab for it but it was too late. Even worse, he had left the top of the bag open and all the other names began to scramble out and run away. All sorts of names came scrambling out of the bag. There were red names and green names, fat names and thin names, old ones and young ones. There were mens names and womens names; and there were names from all the peoples of the world.
In the bag? said someone in the front row.
Yes.
All the peoples in the world?
Yes.
Including English?
Certainly.
That doesnt seem right, objected someone in the second row.
Youve got to draw the line somewhere! declared a man at the back.
Owen at last succeeded in prising Selim away.
Ive got to go, said Owen. Will you be all right on your own for a bit?
Oh, yes, Effendi, Selim assured him, with a glance over his shoulder towards the kitchen.
Ill send some more men down. I can only spare two for the moment, unfortunately. Were very stretched just now.
Send Abdul, Effendi. Hes simple but strong. And Fazal. Hes a mean bastard, just the man.
Ill do my best. I dont think theyd better be actively in the cafe, though. It would be too noticeable. Perhaps theyd better hang around outside. Not in uniform, obviously. Selim didnt like this.
Effendi, its bad for those idle bastards to have nothing to do. Especially when Im working. Look, Ive got a better idea. My wifes got a cousin, hes a Nubian wrestler, big, really big, half savage, too, theyre all like that down there. Its all right in the women, adds a bit of something, you know- where was I? Oh, yes, Babakr. Well, as I say, hed break your back as soon as look at you. Now, for a few piastres-
So, said Mahmoud, you think its a criminal gang, do you?
Owen nodded.
Pretty sure. Its based on the Fustat. The man we took yesterday comes from near the ferry and I wouldnt be surprised if the rest did too. They dont operate outside the Fustat much, which is another thing that makes me think theyre not a club. The clubs stick mostly to the schools and El Azhar all in the modern city, and thats where the targets are, too. This chap said they kept south of the Citadel.
What were they doing up here, then?