King Fuad was delighted to meet Bella. He gave a low bow and muttered something about a flame-haired goddess. He helped both ladies into the surrey, encouraged his pony with a ‘Yalla! ’ and then they were off. They went the same route as before, up the Nile Corniche, across the Kasr Al Nile Bridge onto Gezira Island and then over the river again into Giza. Fuad mentioned this and that landmark along the way, while Bella took it all in with wide-eyed pleasure. She pointed in glee at a robed man on a camel that shared the road with motor vehicles and donkeys, and gasped when she saw the triangular sails of feluccas as they drifted by on the river beyond. Clara wondered how Bella would react when she eventually saw the pyramids. But that was for another day. Today’s journey to the university was a short one and they were almost there when suddenly they came to a roadblock. Two vehicles had collided: a bus and a truck carrying crates of poultry. The poultry truck had overturned, some of the crates had smashed and there were chickens running all over the road. There was utter chaos with traffic halted in both directions. Fuad brought his pony to a stop. He turned around and bestowed his gap-toothed smile on Clara and Bella. ‘We stop.’
‘How long will it take?’ asked Clara.
Fuad shrugged. ‘Seven minutes. Seventy minutes. Inshallah.’
Clara was impatient to get to the university. She wanted to speak to Maryam’s classmates. She looked at her Cook’s map and realised they were only a few minutes away.
‘Do you feel like a walk, Bella? We’ll get there quicker than waiting for this lot to clear.’
‘All right,’ said Bella. ‘Let’s do it.’
Clara paid Fuad a generous baksheesh and asked him to meet them at the university when he was able to get through.
He shook his head. ‘No, miss! No, ladies! It not safe!’
Clara smiled at him. ‘I’m sure we’ll be fine. It’s just down the road and to the right, isn’t it? Through the gardens?’
He shook his head again. ‘It not safe!’
Clara gave him more money. ‘Thank you for your concern, Fuad, but it is broad daylight, there are lots of people around and there are two of us together.’ What she didn’t add was that Bella was a jiu-jitsuka – an experienced practitioner of jiu-jitsu – and she, Clara, was not completely helpless in the self-defence department either. Besides that, she was carrying a gun in her satchel.
Fuad did not appear convinced, but he shrugged, took the money and intoned something over them in Arabic. Clara suspected it was a prayer for protection.
Clara patted the pony, consulted the map and led Bella down the palm-lined Sharia El Giza, towards the El Urman Gardens. It was a busy shopping street with vendors displaying their wares either on the pavement or from jam-packed shop fronts. Rolls of Arabian carpets stood like sentries outside one shop while the next had silver and brassware piled high. There were gaudy tourist curios jostling for space with practical kettles and pots, while on the pavement, vegetable sellers laid out their produce on reed mats and declared their freshness to the ladies as they passed by. A small boy selling oranges ran up to them with a piece of fruit in each hand, offering them to the European ladies with a practised smile.
‘Shall we?’ Clara asked Bella.
Bella said yes. Clara reached into her bag to extract her purse, but as she did, she felt the strap of her satchel snatched from her shoulder. Before she knew it, a young man was hurtling down an alleyway, carrying her satchel – and the gun that was in it!
Bella immediately gave chase with Clara not far behind. The little boy was shouting in Arabic. Clara wasn’t sure if it was to summon help or to encourage the thief to run faster. The two women ran as quickly as they could but they were both wearing skirts and dress heels and were no match for the athletic youth. But they were not ready to give up. Clara caught up with Bella halfway down a narrow alley that had washing strung out from high windows above. Bella was panting and looking left and right. The lad could have run into any one of a dozen doorways. ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve lost him, Miss Vale. Should we try knocking on doors?’
Clara yelled in exasperation. ‘That bag had a gun in it!’
‘Just as well I caught him, then.’ A uniformed policeman stepped out from behind a pile of crates, holding the young bag snatcher by the collar. He had Clara’s satchel over his shoulder.
‘Sergeant Mackenzie!’
‘I believe this is yours, Miss Vale,’ he said and passed her the bag. ‘We will have to have a conversation about your weapon. But first I need to deal with this young scoundrel. Come with me, please, ladies.’
He walked back to the main street, still holding the boy while checking periodically that Clara and Bella were behind them. Clara’s heart sank. Was she permitted to have a gun in Cairo? She had no idea. Her mind was racing. How on earth had Mackenzie collared the lad? What was he doing there? Had he followed them?
When they exited the alley, a crowd had gathered on the Sharia El Giza. They had been watching the chaos of chickens but that paled in comparison to the drama of a bag snatching and two European ladies giving chase! Mackenzie called over another policeman who was helping to clear the traffic jam. They conversed in Arabic, then Mackenzie gave the lad a clip around the ear, before handing him over. Mackenzie turned back to Clara and Bella. ‘My colleague will take the thief back to the police station and I will escort you to the university.’
‘How did you know we were going to the university?’ asked Clara.
Mackenzie gave a knowing smile. ‘Walls have ears, Miss Vale, walls have ears.’
‘You mean at the hotel. You’ve had people watching me.’
Mackenzie gave a nonchalant shrug. ‘Watching, listening … it matters not. But just as well I did. That boy could have found your gun and used it against you if I hadn’t been following you. Now, come with me, the university is just down the road.’
Clara and Bella followed Mackenzie like two naughty schoolgirls. Fortunately, their walk of shame did not take long and they were soon at the Department of Archaeology. Mackenzie ushered them inside. He spoke to the man at the reception desk in Arabic. The man looked at Clara and Bella curiously, shrugged, then handed over a key to Mackenzie and pointed towards a door.
‘Ladies, please come with me.’ Mackenzie led them through a door and down a corridor then to another door which he unlocked. It opened into a small meeting room with a table surrounded by chairs.
‘Take a seat, ladies.’ Mackenzie went back to the door, looked left and right and then closed it.
Clara and Bella sat beside one another, and Mackenzie took a seat opposite. Just like in an interrogation, thought Clara.
‘What are we doing here?’ she asked. ‘We have an appointment to meet someone and we’ll be late.’
Mackenzie gave a terse smile. ‘Don’t worry, I have asked the receptionist to inform Miss Khan and Miss Aziz that you will be late and may have to reschedule your meeting.’
Clara’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘You know who we are going to meet?’
‘I do.’
‘And what else do you know?’
Mackenzie gave an almost imperceptible shrug. ‘What I know is irrelevant. It’s what you know that I want to find out.’
‘Are we under arrest?’ asked Bella.
‘No, Miss Cuddy, you are not,’ said Mackenzie evenly. ‘I have just brought you here to ask you some questions.’
‘Then why haven’t you taken us to the police station and done this formally?’ asked Clara. ‘Egypt abides by the same code of judicial practice as we have in England, does it not?’
Mackenzie chuckled. ‘Give or take.’
Clara was getting angry. ‘Look, Sergeant, if we are not under arrest then we are free to go. If we are under arrest then you need to do it formally. If you are bringing us in for questioning, under caution, then we need to be informed of that and be given the right to have a legal representative present and to inform the British Residency that we are here. Is any of that going to happen?’
A shadow came over his formerly amiable face and he leaned forward until he was well within her personal space. Clara ensured she did not pull back. Bella, as always, was immovable.
‘What’s going to happen is you are going to answer my questions,’ he said, his voice tinged with menace. ‘And better you do it here than at the police station.’
‘And why is that?’ asked Clara.
‘Because,’ he smirked, ‘as I said, walls have ears. But there are fewer ears here. Here no one will hear our conversation.’
Clara’s eyes narrowed. ‘Is that a threat?’
Mackenzie threw back his head and laughed. ‘Oh quite the opposite, Miss Vale. Look,’ he said, his demeanour softening again, ‘I am actually trying to help you. But first I need to know what you know.’
‘About what?’
Mackenzie shook his head slowly. ‘Come, come, Miss Vale, don’t be coy.’
Clara slammed down her hands on the table. ‘I’m not being coy. And I’m sick of these games. Let’s get to the point, please. What do you want to know? What specifically? Ask me a specific question and I will give you a specific answer.’
Mackenzie leaned back. ‘All right, fair enough. Let’s start with this one. Why are you in Cairo? And don’t give me that poppycock about just visiting the country your uncle loved. I know you inherited your uncle’s detection business. I know you have been working as a private detective and I strongly suspect you are here in that capacity. So come, Miss Vale, what specific reason are you here for?’
Clara’s mind whirred. How much should she tell him? He seemed to know an awful lot already so it would be unwise to lie to him. However, she was also wary of giving away any information unnecessarily. Also, she had no idea what his intentions were. Was he corrupt? Was he honest? Was he working for someone outside of the police and that is why they weren’t taken to the police station? And then she had an idea.
‘All right,’ she said, leaning back in her chair, ‘seeing as this isn’t a formal police interview, and we are just having a conversation to gather information, then it’s only fair that I am able to gather information too. So, here’s what I propose. We take turns asking and answering questions.’
Mackenzie gave a dismissive snort. ‘You think you’re in a position to propose that?’
Clara stood up. ‘Come, Bella, we’re going.’
Mackenzie stood and knocked over his chair. Bella leaped to her feet, ready for action.
‘Sit down,’ he said, unbuckling his gun holster.
Bella grabbed the back of her chair and lifted it up, preparing to swing it.
Clara reached out a restraining hand. ‘Hold on, Bella. Sergeant, unless you intend to draw that gun and use it, you will let us go. Or are you really going to shoot us?’
Mackenzie’s eyes narrowed then he closed the flap over his holster but didn’t re-do the buckle.
Bella did not lower the chair.
Clara raised her hands placatingly. ‘I think we all need to calm down. I noted that the door is not locked, Sergeant. You are not forcefully holding us here. You have admitted yourself it is not a formal police interview. And …’ she nodded to her satchel, ‘you did not confiscate my gun. I could have slipped it out at any point in this discussion. So I do not think you intended for this to escalate the way it has. And it doesn’t have to. I, too, would like information. You are right, I am here as a detective. You too appear to be acting – informally – as a detective, so perhaps we can have a polite conversation about it. But to be frank, I don’t know if I can trust you. Nor you me. So my proposal for tit for tat information could be the way forward. Then neither of us gives more than we receive. Agreed?’
Mackenzie gave a wary look at Bella, let out a sigh and buckled his holster. ‘Agreed.’
Clara nodded to Bella. She lowered her chair.
‘Right,’ said Clara, ‘then let’s all sit down.’
They did, warily.
Clara continued. ‘You asked why I am here. Specifically. Well, for two reasons. First to return some jewels that were found in a sarcophagus at the Hancock Museum in Newcastle that Dr Daphne Coleman thought might have been smuggled out of Egypt, and secondly to seek the identity of a dead body that was found in that same sarcophagus. That is the “murder” that Scotland Yard are referring to. But they are incorrect to say I am a witness. I was a witness to the discovery of the body, yes, but not to the murder itself. And I can tell them no more about the discovery of the body than Daphne Coleman can.’
Mackenzie nodded. ‘All right, thank you for clarifying that. Now can you tell me what—’
‘Uh-uh-uh, Sergeant Mackenzie. It’s now my turn to ask a question.’
Mackenzie’s eyes narrowed, but after a moment he nodded. ‘Ask away.’
‘Why were you demoted during the investigation into the death of the Shepheard’s Hotel porter in 1928?’
‘How do you know that?’ he snapped.
Clara gave a winsome smile while Bella chuckled. ‘Walls have ears, Sergeant Mackenzie. Now, will you answer my question?’
Mackenzie sighed. ‘My superiors did not approve of the direction I was taking the investigation. They wanted me to declare the death a random mugging. I had evidence to the contrary and I refused to close the case. I was warned that if I didn’t sign off on the random mugging verdict I would be demoted.’
He shrugged as if to say, The rest is history.
Clara nodded. ‘And was this evidence the carving into the body of a picture of the head of a hooded cobra?’
Mackenzie’s jaw dropped. ‘How on earth do you know that? Even the ears in the walls of Shepheard’s Hotel couldn’t have known that, Miss Vale. There is only one way you could know: Abdul Rahman. Is that correct?’
‘If I say yes, will that put Dr Rahman in difficulties with the authorities?’ Clara asked quickly.
Mackenzie gave a wistful smile. ‘With certain authorities, yes. But if you are asking will I inform the authorities that Abdul Rahman shared that information with you, then no, I will not. Because it was I who gave that photograph to him and I would get into trouble too. You see, Abdul and I are second cousins. On my mother’s side. His father was my mother’s cousin. We have – how should I put this – certain affiliations in common.’ He cocked his head to the side. ‘However, I think it is now my turn to ask a question. And that question is: why did Abdul tell you about the carving on the body?’
Clara pursed her lips. ‘Before I tell you I need to know why you think your superiors were trying to shut down the investigation into the porter’s death.’
Mackenzie nodded. ‘Fair enough. I think someone high up in the force – with connections to the Department of Antiquities – did not want it out in the open that there is a vigilante group operating who are killing artefact thieves.’
‘To protect the vigilantes so they can act with impunity or out of fear that the public will hear about it?’
Mackenzie shrugged. ‘Of that I am not entirely sure. My investigation was shut down before I could get to the bottom of it.’
‘Your official investigation,’ said Clara. ‘But,’ and she gestured around them, ‘I think perhaps you have continued your investigation in your private capacity. Hence why Miss Cuddy and I are being questioned here and not at the police station. Is that correct?’
Mackenzie gave a curt nod. ‘It is. Now, will you answer my question? Why did Abdul tell you about the carving?’
‘Why did he not tell you that he had?’ Bella interjected, her eyes still suspicious.
Mackenzie turned to her. ‘I don’t know, is the honest answer, Miss Cuddy. And he is not around to ask. His secretary told me he left town soon after he met with Miss Vale at the Egyptian Museum on Saturday. He did not say where he was going. Do you know where he has gone, Miss Vale?’
Clara shook her head. ‘Not specifically, no. He said he was going to speak to some contacts of his. That he would be heading into the desert. But that could be any number of places, could it not?’ This was not entirely true. Rahman had told Clara that he would be heading to Quft to see if he could speak to members of Mohammed and Maryam Hassan’s family. But … and this bothered her … why had Dr Rahman not told his cousin Mackenzie this? Was Rahman, like Jack Danskin suggested, involved in the smuggling himself? Is that why he didn’t want his policeman relative to know? Or was Rahman the innocent and Mackenzie the one who could not be trusted? She would need to play some cards close to her chest for now.
‘My turn to ask a question,’ said Clara.
Mackenzie nodded.
‘How much has Scotland Yard told you about the mummy that was found? Other than that it was a recent murder victim disguised as a mummy?’ Clara felt she was on safe ground with this. If he did not know it all now, he would in a few days when the detective from Scotland Yard arrived.
Mackenzie didn’t immediately answer. ‘I’m not sure how much I can tell you, Miss Vale,’ he said eventually. ‘It is one thing for me to do some investigating of my own of things happening in Cairo, but another to divulge the details of a live case under the jurisdiction of Scotland Yard. I won’t just get demoted, this time, I could lose my job.’
Clara nodded in sympathy. ‘I understand. But … if it puts your mind at rest, I already know most of it. You won’t be divulging information I don’t already know. I was there at the preliminary examination of the body. I know the victim is a young woman, between the ages of nineteen and twenty-one, who was strangled to death. On her body was a brooch that Dr Coleman recognised as belonging to the Egyptian University. That’s why we think the victim came from here and hence why I’m here. And I also know that the same cobra’s head carving was made on the young woman’s abdomen as on the porter who was found in the Nile.’
Mackenzie relaxed a little. ‘Yes, that is what I know too. And that is what piqued my interest in the case. I saw the report from Scotland Yard and the request to ask you not to leave town. I volunteered to deliver the message.’
‘And to spy on us,’ Bella interjected.
Mackenzie shrugged. ‘I wanted to find out why you were here. When I was informed you were coming to the university it was a good opportunity to speak to you privately without bringing you into the station.’
Bella’s eyes narrowed. ‘Did you pay that lad to snatch Miss Vale’s bag?’
Mackenzie snorted. ‘I did not. But it did give me an opportunity to intervene and escort you here – for your own safety. If that hadn’t happened I would have approached you as you arrived.’
Clara nodded. ‘I see. And what of the jewels? You knew about them before I told you?’
‘I did. You were overheard discussing them on the telephone to Dr Coleman and that you had returned them to my cousin. You were also overheard questioning my cousin’s honesty.’ His mouth tightened. ‘Why is that?’
Clara sighed. ‘I have no reason to doubt him. Neither does Dr Coleman who has known him since they were students together. However, suspicions have been raised by the board of the Hancock Museum in England. And their representative who followed me to Egypt.’
‘Why are they suspicious of him?’
Clara shrugged apologetically. ‘That I honestly do not know. But there is one way to find out if their suspicions have any merit?’
‘And what is that?’
Clara leaned forward. ‘Do you have any authority to give us access to a laboratory at the Egyptian Museum?’
Mackenzie leaned in too. ‘No. But I can get it.’