The Bride Box by Michael Pearce Page B

rose sheepishly.
    â€˜You
look
all right. Not a scratch, as far as I can see. But, I say, you must come back into the house! Have a drink or something.’
    He went up to the door, which had remained closed, and hammered on it. ‘Yussef! Osman! Wake up!’
    The door opened slowly.
    â€˜Come on, Yussef, it’s only me. Except that I’ve brought some visitors. This is …?’
    â€˜Mahmoud el Zaki. The Parquet.’
    â€˜Mr el Zaki. Nearly shot him. And this is his man. Take him into the kitchen and give him some water. Cold water, that’s the thing! On a hot day like this. Especially if you’ve been shot at.’
    The clerk, a little hesitantly, followed behind.
    â€˜Don’t worry, you’re all right now. No shooting inside the house, that’s the rule. She’s very strict about it. No shooting inside the house! Mother!’ he called. ‘We have visitors. Come and meet Mr el Zaki!’
    He led Mahmoud into what was obviously a reception room, the exact replica of one you would find in a rich man’s house in Cairo, with a marble floor which sloped slightly down to a little indoor pool in which a fountain was playing. At one end of this room was a traditional dais, spread with leather cushions. He sat, or rather lay, on the dais and indicated that Mahmoud should lie beside him.
    Then he jumped up to greet an elderly lady who had come into the room.
    â€˜This is my mother. You must meet my mother!’
    She came forward. She was dressed in the conventional burka but her veil was pushed aside. She had sharp, intelligent eyes.
    â€˜This is Mr el Zaki, Mother. He has come to visit us.’
    â€˜I heard shots,’ she said.
    â€˜That was me. I nearly shot Mr el Zaki.’
    â€˜It was as well that you didn’t.’
    â€˜He came by the back path, you see, and I was not expecting him.’
    â€˜Even so, you should be more careful.’
    â€˜Sorry, Mother! I saw a great fat pigeon—’
    â€˜Where is the gun now? Have you put it away properly?’
    â€˜Left it at the door.’
    â€˜Unloaded?’
    â€˜Yes, Mother. Unloaded. I made sure.’
    She nodded. ‘Good.’ Then she turned to Mahmoud. ‘And what brings you here, Mr el Zaki?’
    â€˜I am from the Parquet.’
    She raised her eyebrows. ‘The Parquet! This is an honour. It is not often that Cairo remembers us.’
    â€˜I am investigating a case.’
    â€˜Down here? I thought the Parquet never stepped out of Cairo!’
    â€˜We do occasionally. When the case is important.’
    â€˜So this one must be.’
    â€˜Yes, it is. It concerns something sent to your husband.’
    â€˜A bomb, I hope?’
    â€˜Not quite, no. But equally shocking. A bride box.’
    â€˜Are you insane?’
    â€˜No. It was sent from Denderah. By people from this estate.’
    â€˜Now I know you are insane! A bride box? To my husband? I would have thought he’d had enough of marriage. And should it be going to him anyway? I would have thought it would be sent to her. Whoever she is.’
    â€˜The thing is, you see, the bride box was not empty.’
    â€˜Well, no, it wouldn’t be.’
    â€˜It contained the body of a young girl.’
    The woman’s hand flew up to her throat.
    â€˜A young girl?’
    â€˜Whom I think you know,’ Mahmoud added.

FIVE
    â€˜W hat do you want?’ asked the Pasha’s lady.
    â€˜I want to talk to your servants.’
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜Because servants from the estate brought the bride box to the railway station at Denderah and put it on the train.’
    â€˜I do not think you can be right,’ said the Pasha’s lady. ‘It is a long way from here to Denderah on foot. Especially carrying a box.’
    â€˜Perhaps a cart?’
    â€˜You don’t know what you’re saying. A cart? How do you think I could spare a cart? This is a small estate. Our carts are in