Read Online A Dead Man in Tangier by Michael Pearce - Free Book Online Page B

bad and that they should keep out of it. He’d seen that it was a Frenchman, you see, and worked out that someone would be over pretty soon. And that someone would probably be the French army, and that wouldn’t be good at all. So they kept out of it. Just sat there to see what happened.'
    ‘Well, what happened?'
    ‘Nothing. Like I told you. By and by two big blokes came riding up, swords and knives bristling all over. And they told everybody to get back. I mean by this time there was quite a crowd there and they’d all crept in. Well, you can understand it, can’t you? It’s not every day you see a dead Frenchman and they wanted to have a good look. But these two big blokes whipped out their swords and everybody jumped back in a flash. And one of them went off and came back with another Frenchman, and he was a soldier. Just like his mate had said. So they did right to keep out of it.'
    ‘Yes, yes, I’ve got that bit. But did you talk to people? Had anyone seen anything more than this chap had?'
    ‘Of course we talked to people! But they’d all got there afterwards. Like I said.'
    ‘There was that boy, Mustapha,’ said Idris.
    ‘The beggar boy, you mean? The lame one? The one with the limp.'
    ‘That’s right.'
    ‘Well, he was the bright one. He’d know he couldn’t run, so he’d gone out before . Before the hunt started. He’d gone out and lay down under a thorn bush so that he would see as they went past.’
    ‘And did he see them?'
    ‘Oh, yes.'
    ‘Including Bossu?'
    ‘Yes. He’d seen him go after the pig, and he’d thought, he’ll never get anywhere –’
    ‘Yes, yes. But he did see him? He saw him separate from the others. And then what?'
    ‘He suddenly disappeared! So he reckoned he’d had a fall. Well, he waited a bit to see if he got up, but when he didn’t, he thought he’d go over. I mean, you never know what you might pick up. A wallet, even.'
    ‘So he went over there? To the spot where he’d seen Bossu fall? And what did he see?'
    ‘Just him and the lance.'
    ‘Did he see anyone? Anyone else?'
    ‘He didn’t say so.'
    ‘Look, he must have seen someone else. The person who stuck the lance through him.’
    ‘He didn’t say –’
    ‘Riding away?’ suggested Seymour hopefully. ‘Whoever did it would have been on horseback. A horse is big – no?'
    ‘Look,’ said Mustapha, wearying, ‘why don’t you ask him?’
    ‘I will. What’s his name?'
    ‘Name?'
    ‘He’s got a name, hasn’t he?'
    ‘No. He’s just a beggar boy.'
    ‘Where does he live?'
    ‘I’ve told you. He’s a beggar boy. He doesn’t live anywhere.’
    ‘How will I find him, then, to talk to him?'
    ‘Oh, you’ll find him. He’s always around.'
    ‘Yes, he’s always around,’ said Idris.
    As detectives, thought Seymour ruefully, they had their limitations.
    He went back into the Tent. It wasn’t quite as densely packed as before but the bar was still doing a roaring – and how! – trade. Suddenly, however, as if some mysterious signal had been given, all the soldiers detached themselves and made for the door at the back of the Tent. That left a number of spaces at the bar and in one of them, left bereft of her admirers, he saw Madame Bossu. She looked round, saw him and brightened.
    ‘Monsieur Seymour!'
    ‘Madame!'
    ‘And how do you like our little games?'
    ‘I find your little games enchanting, Madame.'
    ‘That was not what I meant!’ she said, tapping his hand reprovingly.
    ‘But where have all your admirers gone? Earlier in the afternoon I couldn’t have hoped to get near you.'
    ‘Ah, those boys! I love the military, you know. I often used to say to Bossu, “Bossu, why aren’t you a soldier?” “If I was one, you’d soon notice the difference,” he would say. “Soldiers don’t make any money.” “You are always thinking about money,” I used to tell him. “It’s just as well one of us is,” he would say. That wasn’t very kind of him, was it?'
    ‘Indeed not!'
    ‘And if