Michael Pearce - The Fig Tree Murder

‘Kill who?’ asked Owen, totally confused.

‘Malik.’

‘Why not?’ demanded Zeinab, drawn back.

‘Because he’s betrothed, or nearly betrothed, to that charming girl. Abu Hanafi was telling me. His father objects, of course, but-’

‘Is that why you wanted to kill him?’ said Zeinab dangerously.

‘I don’t want to kill anyone!’ protested Owen.

‘He let it slip,’ said Nuri, ‘when he was talking to el-Sayid Ahmad. El-Sayid Ahmad was shocked. “These English!” he said. “They will fall upon you like beasts!” “It’s only instinct,” I said. “He’s young and passionate. I was just the same. He’s not going to let another man step in, is he?” “Yes, but to go so far as to kill him!” said el-Sayid Ahmad. “It is a bit far,” I conceded. So I said I would have a word with you.’

‘Was it when he offered to exchange me for a Circassian?’ said Zeinab fondly.

‘Whisky, sir?’ said the waiter, going past.

‘A double, please,’ said Owen.

‘There is a problem about the Tree,’ said McPhee worriedly.

‘Tree?’

‘The Tree of the Virgin. The French want to take possession of it.’

‘Just a minute,’ said Owen; ‘the French? What the hell’s it got to do with them?’

‘It was given to the Empress Eugenie by the Khedive when she came for the opening of the Suez Canal.’

‘Yes, I know, but-’

‘Along with the Gezira Palace Hotel.’

‘They don’t want the hotel as well, do they?’

‘They haven’t said so. It seems it’s just the Tree they want. Because of the Roman Catholic connections.’

‘ Roman Catholic?’

‘It’s the balsam, you see.’

‘I thought you told me it was a sycamore? Or a fig?’

‘No, no, it’s the shrubs nearby. They’re balsam-’

‘Where that old goatherd was?’

‘Yes. They used to provide the balsam for nearly all the baptismal services in Egypt. Every Catholic child!’

‘Let’s get this straight,’ said Owen, who was feeling fragile this morning anyway and was still trying to digest everything that had happened to him at the reception. ‘They want the Tree because of the balsam shrubs nearby?’

‘They’d like the shrubs, of course. But, strictly speaking, it was only the Tree of the Virgin that was given them. I think you could make a stand on that.’

‘I’m not making a stand on anything. Certainly not on a bloody tree!’

‘I do think you ought to consult Diplomatic, Owen. The request comes from the Quai d’Orsay.’

‘In Paris? How the hell did they get to know about it?’

‘I think’-McPhee lowered his voice, not wishing to speak ill, or, at least, ill loudly of anybody-‘I think it may have got to them through the Syndicate. The Belgians-or, at least, some of them-are RCs, too, you know.’

‘But why-?’

‘Well, if the Tree was gone, you know, it would be, well, gone. Out of the way. Didn’t you tell me it was in the way of the new railway?’

‘Yes, but-you don’t mean they’d take it away to France?’

‘Well, why not? After all, we’ve taken Cleopatra’s Needle to London.’

‘Yes, but that’s a-I mean, this is a tree! It’s even dead. Do they know it’s dead? It’s fallen down.’

‘That makes it easier to take it away. All they have to do is lift it on to a lorry. In any case, Owen, I don’t think you should assume too readily that it’s dead. I’m sure I saw green shoots. And, even if it were dead, Owen, that’s not the important thing.’

‘No?’

‘No. The thing is, it has symbolic life. It’s very important to RCs, Owen. The Young Mother is said to have rested in its shade. Then she took the Child, hot and weary from the journey, down to the well and bathed it; and instantly the water became fresh and clean. I must say, I do think that is a point we have to consider. I mean, the water is strikingly fresh and clean and all the other wells round there are rather salty. How is that to be explained?’

‘Well-’

‘And then, while the Child was capering about, or perhaps just lying there, she washed its clothes. I mean, that’s what they often do, you see them doing that today, then the child can put them on again. But then, do you know, when she wrung the clothes out, wherever the drops of water fell, balsam trees sprang out of the earth! So you see, in fact there is a connection between the Virgin Tree and the balsam-’

‘I think that point may be disputed.’

‘The lawyers may well make a meal of it, I know, but symbolically-’

‘Yes. Well. I’m sure. And you say’-grasping at straws-‘that this has come formally from the French Consulate?’

‘Direct from the Ministry in Paris, they said.’

‘Ah, well, then,’ said Owen. ‘I’m afraid I shall have to refer this to our own Consulate.’

Back came the answer, sooner than he had wished.

‘We’ve referred it to our lawyers,’ said Paul.

‘Great!’

‘They’ve warned us that it could take some time.’

‘Marvellous!’

‘However, they have suggested that you put a guard on the Tree.’

‘How long for?’

‘Until the issue is resolved.’

‘How long could that be?’

‘Ten years.’

‘No, the British are not seizing your property. The guard is there merely to protect it.’

‘It’s been all right for two thousand years,’ said the Copt. ‘Why does it suddenly need protection?’

Owen pointed to the names carved on the bark.

‘It’s being defaced.’

‘That’s how I make my money,’ protested Daniel indignantly.

‘Ah, yes. But you shouldn’t. Not while ownership of the property is being disputed.’

‘It’s not being disputed. It’s mine.’

‘Apparently it was given to the Empress Eugenie in 1869.’

‘This is a Muslim plot!’ cried Daniel, reeling back.

‘The Muslims are nothing to do with it,’ said Owen sternly. He wasn’t going to have this adding fuel to the fire.

Or so he thought.

‘A deputation to see you,’ announced Nikos, his Official Clerk.

‘Deputation?’

‘From the Patriarch.’

The outer office was full of Copts.

‘This is outrageous!’ said their leader, one of three bishops.

‘What exactly-?’

‘The seizing of Coptic property.’

‘Ah, the Tree? I have explained that the guard is there merely to protect it.’

‘It certainly needs protection; but who from?’

‘Well-’

‘First you let the Muslims defile it. Then you let the Catholics take it away!’

‘We’re really not at that stage yet.’

‘Ah! Then it is true? The Catholics are going to take it at some time?’

‘The Tree, apparently, was a gift to the Empress Eugenie-’

‘Yes, but who gave it?’

‘The Khedive Ismail-’

‘But did it belong to him?’ Seeing his advantage, the bishop pressed home. ‘Was it his to give?’

‘Well, I-’

‘It has belonged to Copts for over a thousand years.’

‘Look, this is a matter for lawyers-’

‘One would think so. But the judgement has, apparently, already been made.’

‘Not at all.’

‘Why, then, has a guard been placed at the Tree?’

‘To protect it pending a resolution of the issue. Until then the assumption is that ownership remains as it is at present.’

‘We demand that the rights of Coptic citizens be protected!’

‘I give you that assurance.’

‘What is it worth, though?’ asked one of the other bishops. ‘Will Britain stand up for Copts the way France does for Roman Catholics?’

‘The policy of His Majesty’s government is not to interfere in religious matters. In the case of Egypt, it has consistently urged the Khedive not to discriminate against particular groups of his subjects-’