Elham. You’re nothing but a constant torturing pain. As for Karima, you are linked in a bloody tie that will be broken only with death. Your need for her is like a maddening hunger that keeps you in a constant hell. You’ll find a way of contacting her. You must!
The best thing we can do then will be to sell the hotel and live in some other town. You will lead a passionate, spontaneous, carefree life, not like Elham, whose voice calls for a change in your life and causes you endless pain. But when will Karima contact him? What happens after the money runs out? He would accept any job, even Seriakous’, just to wait for Karima. I wonder, are they going to hang him? Poor Seriakous! You’ve killed a man with your own hands; no harm in killing another, but using different hands. When, when will this nightmare be over?
Before leaving the hotel, Elham telephoned him. “Are you going to renew the advertisement?” She sounded subdued.
“No,” he replied wearily.
“I asked someone to find out if he’s got an unlisted number,” she said softly.
“And of course he didn’t find anything.”
“No, unfortunately.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he sighed.
“We’ve got correspondents in other towns. They’re inquiring as to his whereabouts.”
“I don’t know how to thank you, Elham.”
“Aren’t you thinking of coming to pay us a visit?” she asked shyly.
“No,” he replied firmly. “I’m thinking of your welfare.”
“I wonder how you are taking all this.”
“I told you, it doesn’t matter to me.”
“It does to me,” she whispered.
They lost contact after this. The pain was unbearable. What’s the use of beauty in a world soiled with blood? Her eyes can only see what is beautiful. They are blind to ugliness.
Sawi saw him on his way out and smiled. Saber smiled back nervously. The man offered him a seat. He sat hiding his impatience and tension.
“Are you in a hurry?” asked the old doorman.
“No, not at all. I’ve got nothing to do.”
“Then stay a while. To tell you the truth, I feel very lonely after the death of Mr. Khalil. I’ve no one to talk to.”
“What about your sons?”
“They’re not in Cairo.”
There were only two guests in the lounge. The traffic noises drowned out the beggar’s chant.
“Anything new turn up?” asked Saber.
“I’ve got a friend on the force. He seems to know, although he brags a bit.”
“What does he say?”
“Aly Seriakous. They’ve found no one else.”
“Perhaps he confessed?”
“I don’t know.”
“He was tempted by petty thievery.”
“He denied the theft.”
“But he had already confessed to it,” Saber said, as though defending himself.
“Yes, but later he denied it.”
“But they found the money at his home.”
“He said the wife gave it to him.”
“Mr. Khalil’s wife?”
“Yes.”
“But why?”
“Charity, maybe.”
“But did she give charity to the other servants?”
“No. All the others were questioned. He’s the only one.”
“That’s very strange,” said Saber, swallowing hard.
“What is stranger still is that he then confessed again to the theft.”
“And what about the so-called charity?”
“He said that she normally gave him tips for jobs that she wanted done. He saw where she kept the money, and this tempted him.”
“He went to steal, and he killed.”
“That’s it, I think.”
“What does the investigator think?”
“Who knows? But they seem convinced that he’s the murderer.”
“He has probably confessed,” Saber said hopefully.
“Probably.”
“No doubt the lady used to tip him.”
“Perhaps.”
“But why did he deny it and then confess?”
“Who knows?”
“There must be another facet to the problem.”
“Ah. Who can be sure?”
For the first time he inspected the old man’s face. Green, faded eyes. The closer he looked, the more he felt that he was seeing a new face, forgetting the old one. “Do you think that there is another facet?” asked Saber.
“How can I know?” replied Sawi, showing no interest in the matter.
Yes! That’s how men will feel approaching the gates of hell! “You know much more than you’re willing to tell,” said Saber cunningly.
“I’m afraid that the opposite is more correct.”
“Did they ask the wife any more questions?”
“The officer called her more than once.”
“Did Seriakous’ statement have anything to do with that?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have confidence in your friend? The one who gave you this news?”
“But she said so herself.”
“The wife?”
“Yes. She was here yesterday evening.”
She chose a time when he would be out! That cunning, wicked devil! Of what consequence can the investigation be compared with his predicament? Beware; the old man might read more than just curiosity into your questions. But how can I avoid these burning questions?
“Did she speak about her gift to Seriakous?”
“Yes, it was only charity, of course.”
“That’s reasonable.”
“Why?”
“Aly Seriakous doesn’t strike me as a man…”
“Are you aware of these things?” asked Sawi.
“Not every man is capable.”
“But I’ve lived far longer than you,” said the old man.
“Are you doubting her character?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then you are confident she’s honest?”
The old man closed his eyes sadly. “I don’t doubt her, I know.”
Observe how matters are being revealed. Your investigation is proving more successful than the real investigation!
“Then she is dishonest?”
“Unfortunately…Yes…”
“Did you know this before your friend’s death?”
“Yes, but I cared for his peace of mind more than the truth.”
“Did you give your opinion in the investigation?”
“Of course.”
“You mentioned the relationship between her and Aly Seriakous?”
“Aly Seriakous…I’m not thinking of him.”
Was this the trap? And had he fallen for it? “We were talking about him.”
“Yes, but then we talked about her.”
“As the other party.”
“No. There is another man.”
Can her fires consume more than one man? Of course they can! It is known as hell!
“Another man?”
“Her previous husband.”
“The man who sold her,” said Saber breathlessly.
“It was merely a business deal.”
“But how do you know all this?”
“I saw him several times at her mother’s house when I was there.”
Hell’s gates were opened wide. “And you didn’t mention it to anyone?”
“It would have killed my master to know.”
“He was killed in spite of it.”
“Yes, and that’s the tragedy.”
“Why did he allow those visits?”
“His age destroyed his ability to doubt.”
“You also mentioned this during the investigation?”
“I did.”
“Did they question the other man?”
“He was not in Cairo on the night of the murder.”
“That doesn’t preclude that he planned it.”
“Yes, that’s true. But they let him go.”
“Why?”
“They have their reasons, I suppose.”
“They must have used the servant with incredible cunning.”
“Or some other idiot like him.”
Saber swallowed hard. “Maybe these are all groundless doubts.”
“Perhaps,” said Sawi, noncommittally.
“But you said that you’re sure.”
“Maybe I used the wrong expression.”
“Well, we’re back where we started.”
The old man shook his head gravely. “My heart tells me that my doubts are well founded.”
“But there might not be any connection between her adultery and the crime.”
“That’s possible. Otherwise they wouldn’t have let them go.”
“In any case, Seriakous has served them well,” said Saber spitefully.
“If he’s the murderer.”
“Do you doubt that?”
“Everything is possible.”
“Sometimes I think that you don’t believe it.”
“And why not? You remember what I told you about that errand boy?”
“Maybe he’s the killer.”
The old man sighed. “I think that the killer will strike again. Perhaps not right away. But he’ll strike again.”
You’ll not sleep a wink until you question her yourself. What a devil of a woman. But she’d be a fool if she thinks she can trick you. She knows that you can kill. But how to find her?
“Her previous husband,” said the old man, “didn’t plan the murder. Otherwise they wouldn’t have let him off so quickly. But the other crime…”
“He’s her cousin,” Saber interrupted, “and it’s not strange that he should visit her.”
“Actually, I had my doubts long ago. Her mother used to live very near here, and her husband would take her there whenever she wanted. Then suddenly the mother moved to number twenty Sahil Street, in Zeitoun, miles away. Why? I could find no logical reason except that the wife could use it as an excuse to spend some days at her mother’s. Mr. Khalil objected at first, but then gave in.”
How easy it all was! Number twenty Sahil Street, Zeitoun. No effort at all.
Saber was now lost in a raging tempest of madness. The smell of blood was strong in his nostrils.