Michael Pearce - The Fig Tree Murder

‘His body was found there, certainly. Does that count as cropping up?’

‘He worked there.’

‘But that is incidental, surely?’

‘Is it? I have asked myself if it might not be-if I could find any connection between Ibrahim’s workplace and his death.’ Owen fanned himself. He was used to Mahmoud’s deductive approach. The Parquet lawyers had all been trained in the French tradition of law-the Egyptian legal system was based on that of France-and the French influence extended even to habits of thought.

‘And what answers did you get?’

He hoped that Mahmoud wasn’t going to allow himself to get distracted. He himself was convinced that the answer lay in the village and he wanted to find it pretty quickly before village law took over.

‘It was something the railwaymen said yesterday. About Ibrahim. They said there had been some incident or other when Ibrahim had acted as their spokesman.’

‘Well?’

‘I’d like to find out more about the incident.’

‘It sounded as if it was a dispute about work practices.’

‘Precisely.’

‘I’m afraid I don’t see what you’re getting at?’

‘I was just wondering if the two could be connected.’

‘The dispute and-?’

‘The fact that Ibrahim played a leading part in the dispute, and his death.’

Owen was shocked.

‘You’re surely not suggesting-?’

‘I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just saying that the time might have come to take a look at the Syndicate’s involvement in all this.’

‘But it’s not involved! It’s just that the body was found on the line that it’s building!’

‘And that the body was that of a man who’d been prominent in a dispute with it.’

‘But the dispute was trivial!’

‘We don’t know that. It might not have seemed trivial to them. Anything that threatened to slow down progress on the line would have struck them as important, I’d have thought.’

‘But you’re surely not suggesting that they would go to the lengths of-?’

‘I don’t know what lengths they might go to. That would be one of the things I would want to find out.’

‘But what for? What would be the point?’

As a warning, perhaps?’

‘You think the whole thing was meant as a warning?’

‘I think the possibility is worth investigating.’

Owen felt quite shocked. How could Mahmoud even entertain the possibility? The Syndicate bore down hard on its workers, perhaps, but to suppose that a respectable international company would go to those lengths was bizarre!

‘Companies don’t behave like that,’ he said.

‘Don’t they?’

‘No. Not even in Egypt.’

It was the wrong thing to say. Mahmoud’s face darkened. ‘Perhaps they might,’ he said, ‘in Egypt. Where they thought it didn’t matter.’

Owen backtracked swiftly. Talking to Mahmoud was sometimes like walking through a minefield.

‘OK, OK,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant was that I don’t believe a respectable company would do a thing like that anywhere.’

Mahmoud bowed his head in acknowledgement of the apology; stiffly, however.

‘Respectable companies don’t always behave respectably when they go to other countries,’ he said. ‘Especially if they’re poorer countries.’

Owen felt a tide of exasperation welling up.

‘What you’re suggesting is quite ridiculous,’ he said coldly.

‘You may think so.’

‘You think so only because it is a foreign company.’

‘What are you saying? What are you saying?’ cried Mahmoud furiously.

‘That you’re letting your Nationalist prejudices run away with you!’ said Owen, equally angry.

It had all boiled up, as so often in Egypt, out of nothing. One moment you had been talking reasonably; the next, there had been an explosion.

All right, this time it was he himself who had sparked it off. But really! How could Mahmoud think a thing like that? How could someone as intelligent, as reasonable as Mahmoud even consider such a possibility? Owen had no great affection for the Syndicate. He thought it was hard and grasping. He thought it very likely that it would if not bend the law, at least push up as hard against it as it could.

But that was not quite the same thing as breaking the law. And it was not the same thing as killing a man, or having him killed, just because he had crossed them.

Or as a warning. Warning? Who to? To the labour force to work harder? Ridiculous! How could Mahmoud even suppose such a thing! It was quite unlike him. He was normally the most reasonable of men: a little prickly on occasion, emotional, perhaps, like most Arabs. But this was plain crazy! Companies were not like that. Not even- pace, Mahmoud-in Egypt. Not even-despite the fulminations of the most lunatic Nationalists-foreign companies in Egypt. How could Mahmoud even entertain the idea?

The telephone rang. It was Mr Rabbiki, the veteran politician.

‘Ah, Captain Owen! So glad you are there. I wanted to let you know before actually putting down the question.’

‘Question?’

‘Yes. In the Assembly. It’s on the agenda for Tuesday. I wanted to give you prior warning. After all, we’re old friends, aren’t we? And I understand the difficult position you’re in. But really, we can’t allow this to go on. The poor fellow’s family-’

‘Poor fellow?’

‘The one who was killed. I understand you are not going to press charges?’

‘It’s not my job to press charges. That’s up to the Parquet.’

‘Ah, yes, but sometimes they need help.’

‘I give them all the help I can.’

‘We-ell…it’s not always possible, is it?’

‘Why not?’

‘Political considerations? Do not sometimes political considerations intervene?’

‘They haven’t intervened in this case.’

‘No? That’s not the impression I have gained.’

‘I don’t follow you, Mr Rabbiki.’

‘The Syndicate, Captain Owen…is it not obstructing inquiries?’

‘Not as far as I’m aware.’

‘I understand Mr El Zaki wishes to put some questions?’

‘He wanted to talk to the workforce. He asked me to approach the Syndicate on his behalf, which I was glad to do. Permission was given, and he spoke to the men. I was there.’

‘Yes, but since then…’

‘I don’t think the issue has arisen since then.’

There was a little silence.

‘Then I am under a false impression, Captain Owen. I had gathered he wished to put some questions about an incident that had happened on the railway some weeks ago.’

‘I know the incident to which you refer. I wasn’t aware that he wanted to approach the Syndicate over the matter.’

‘You weren’t? Well, perhaps there are problems of communication on your side. Or perhaps he didn’t feel it necessary for an officer of the Ministry of Justice to have to direct his inquiries through an intermediary. Be that as it may, his request was refused.’

‘I didn’t know that.’

‘It is unacceptable, Captain Owen. It raises important questions of principle.’

‘It is regrettable, certainly. And the issue might not have arisen had the request been directed through me.’

‘But that, too, raises questions of principle, Captain Owen. So you will quite see why we are putting down a question.’

Owen could quite see why the Nationalist Party was putting down a question. It wished to embarrass the Administration and a foreign company was a good stick to beat the government with.

He was a little disappointed, though, by Mahmoud. After that last exchange at the well, Mahmoud had stalked off in high dudgeon. This was not uncommon with Mahmoud, and usually after a decent interval had elapsed he stalked back again. This time, however, he had made no effort to contact Owen. Instead, he had approached the Syndicate head-on and received the rebuff he must have expected.