this performance. Legally within his jurisdiction, he argued, it would be a dereliction of his duty to let the crime go uninvestigated. A political crime, or whatever they wanted to call it, was still a homicide and that meant it was his case. Lieutenant Sharqi had beaten a hasty retreat and was now in his car in conference with persons unknown higher up the chain of command.
‘Why are they so keen to take charge of this case?’
‘You know what they are like, always barging in, as if the rest of us were just idiots waiting to be told what to do. How’s your head?’
‘Still in one piece, I think.’ Makana touched a finger tenderly to the plaster that had been stuck across the cut on his forehead. ‘What do you know about this Sharqi?’
‘Oh, I’ve heard all about him. Bit of a high flyer. He was in the Special Forces Unit 777. They were specially created by Sadat, remember, and responsible for all kinds of cock-ups including that mess in Lanarka airport. Before his time, of course, but they tried to storm a hijacked plane and ended up killing most of the passengers. They were disbanded for a while and then reformed. Well, he’s one of the new generation, trained by the Americans and all that.’
‘How did he hear about this so fast?’
‘You know what it’s like. They have informers everywhere. Someone must have got the message back to him. Who knows, maybe he’s been having a slow week,’ Okasha snorted. ‘Anyway, the point is that any minute now he’s going to get a phone call giving him official control of the investigation and I’ll have no choice but to comply.’
‘Why would he want this case?’
‘It’s political.’
‘You think it was intended that way?’
‘Of course. Why kill her like that, if not to create a spectacle? Anyway, maybe no aeroplanes have been hijacked recently. Let’s get on to what you are doing here, and don’t tell me it’s to drink coffee. Speaking of which . . . where is this boy of yours?’
As he spoke, Okasha was moving restlessly about the small café, pausing here and there, peering out through the window for any sign of an approaching officer. Moving behind the counter he flicked the pair of boxing gloves on the wall and grimaced at the state of the facilities. There was no sign of Eissa.
‘I was hired by a man upstairs – Faragalla. He thought someone was sending him threats.’
‘Threats? What kind of threats?’
‘A series of letters. Anyway, it turns out they were meant for her.’
‘Why would anyone want to kill her?’
‘I don’t think they did. I think they wanted to scare her.’
‘That’s fine, except we have a dead woman out there. That’s not a threat any more, that’s murder. I’ll need you to hand these letters over.’
‘Her husband is Ridwan Hilal.’
Okasha swore. ‘This is going to stir up the press, which means the politicians are going to have their say, which means they are going to make my life hell.’
‘There was a man next to me the instant it happened.’
‘Coincidence. Could be anything.’
‘Coincidence that he had a two-way radio? He’s the reason they got here so quickly.’
Okasha lifted a dirty coffee pot and dropped it into the sink. ‘You’re too paranoid, and I say this as a friend. Why was a woman like that working in a place like this?’
‘She lost her job when her husband was thrown out of the university.’
‘Why didn’t they leave? Life can’t have been easy. They both lost their positions.’
‘They believed in this country.’
‘May Allah bestow His blessings upon them.’
Makana looked down the arcade towards the broken shop window and the people gathered around the spot where Meera had died. He could see one of Sharqi’s men being fielded by one of Okasha’s officers, who had no doubt been briefed to stall them for as long as possible.
‘Okay,’ said Okasha, seeing the same thing. ‘Time’s almost up. This case is going to be out of my hands in about two minutes. I need to see those letters, so do yourself a favour and don’t tell him about them.’
‘You’re asking me not to tell him what I know? Isn’t that illegal? And why do you want the letters if he’s going to take over the case?’
‘Because we both know Sharqi is going to run around and shoot a few people like a good boy and make the minister fall in love with him all over again, but the case is not going to get