Read Online The Snake Catcher's Daughter by Michael Pearce - Free Book Online Page B

people’s doors and asking, someone was bound to know. He himself went to a café to wait. The Copt, he sent back to his shop.
    Eventually, one of the constables returned. Or rather, two of them returned. One was the man who found out; the other was Selim, who had now, on the strength of past glory, appointed himself Acting Sergeant, still, unfortunately, unpaid.
    Mr Abbas owned a large store off one of the
suks
. He came out to meet Owen and then invited him into his office to take tea. They sat on a low leather divan and the tea was served on an equally low table, about six inches high. Courtesy demanded that it was some time before they got down to business, but eventually they did.
    “My house, indeed,” said Mr Abbas blandly, “and sometimes I let it. But a Zzarr! Oh dear, I had no idea.”
    “They gave no indication of their purpose?”
    “Well, of course, I don’t handle it myself—”
    The person who did, an agent who managed several properties, lived on the other side of the Gamaliya. It was another hot day and by the time Owen had reached him, his clothes were wet with perspiration. He was received again with courtesy and tea; and again given the run around.
    “Well, of course, I had no idea what they wanted it for. A celebration of some sort, I believe they said. Too large for their own house so they wanted to hire a bigger one.”
    “Do you have their names?”
    The agent spread his hands regretfully.
    “I’m afraid not,” he said.
    That was unlikely, Owen remarked.
    “They pay the money first,” the man said, smiling. Owen got nowhere. He walked back to Bab-el-Khalk with Selim, dripping.
    “The Gamaliya’s a no-good place, effendi,” said Selim, commiserating. “Now, over by the fish market, where I live—” Owen stopped in his tracks.
    “Selim,” he said, “are you married?”
    “Well, yes, effendi,” said Selim, taken aback. “There’s Leila, and there’s Aisha, and there’s—”
    He began, however, to look troubled.
    “Effendi,” he said hesitantly, “I don’t think they’d be good enough for you. Not yet. I mean, I’m trading up. In a bit, I’ll divorce Aisha, and then I’ll look out for someone a bit classier. In fact, I know a girl already who would do. She would just suit—
    “No, no, no, no!” said Owen hastily. “Not that at all.”
    He explained what he wanted.
    Selim listened carefully.
    “Well,” he said, “Aisha’s the one. She’s a bit of a bitch, that’s why I’m thinking of getting rid of her. Nag, nag, nag all the time, just come back late and you’re in trouble. But she’s got a good head on her. Mind you,” he looked worried, “it could give her ideas, she would start getting above herself—”
    “There would be money in it,” said Owen. “For you.”
    “Well, in that case—” said Selim, brightening. He thought it over. “Yes,” he said, “Aisha’s definitely the one. She could say she was possessed by an evil spirit, all right. In fact, it wouldn’t be too far from the truth…”

----
Chapter 5
    « ^ »
    Garvin asked Owen if he would drop in on him before he went home. It was a request and courteous, so Owen knew that Garvin had found out that the Philipides business was about to be reopened.
    He found him not sitting behind his desk, as was usually the case, but standing by the window, looking down through the shutters into the courtyard; as if he had just seen some donkeys there to which he took exception.
    He was a big man, well over six feet in height and with huge broad shoulders. Despite twenty years of Egyptian sun, and Egyptian malaria, his face was fair and ruddy as if he had just arrived from English fields. The impression caught a truth about the man. Garvin came from one of the old English country families, no longer property owning but still country living. His father, a youngest son, had been a clergyman, but a clergyman of the ‘squarson’ sort, both squire and parson. Garvin had been brought up in the country