Herring on the Nile (18 page)

‘You would say that, wouldn’t you?’

He was right there, of course. I would say that. I have after all written many scenes in which the murderer is obliged to deny a shooting or a stabbing in almost exactly these terms. What
usually followed was a grilling in which they were slowly worn down – in the case of my Master Thomas historical mysteries, by foul means as often as fair. As the motorboat had sped away from
the
Khedive
, it had struck me that I might experience some discomfort, and possibly boredom, before I was ransomed. Death had at that point seemed unlikely – why should anyone wish to
kill a second-rate, or even third-rate, crime writer? But death, and perhaps a fairly unpleasant one, was surely something that I had to allow for? Twice I had placed Master Thomas in a position in
which he faced being tortured to death unless he revealed information that he simply did not have. Master Thomas had remained quite perky, even in the malodorous dungeons of Bramber Castle. His
answers to questions had been confident – insouciant even – in the face of the most blatant threats. My voice, I noticed, had a tremor in it even at this stage. It’s much easier
to write insouciance than do it.

‘I’m the least likely person to have shot Purbright – we were on the same side. Whoever killed him, it wasn’t me.’

Mahmoud suddenly whacked a large fist into the palm of his hand and smiled when I involuntarily jumped at the sound. I expected him to follow up this action with some remark along the lines that
he had ways of making me confess. What he actually said was slightly different.

‘What a pity,’ said Mahmoud. ‘You see, Ethelred, we had rather hoped that you had shot him. It would have made things much more straightforward for us and, from your point of
view, it would scarcely be something that we would hold against you. As it is, what you say presents us with a problem, because
we
certainly did not kill him. And that means we have to ask
ourselves who else is on board the
Khedive
and why they should have chosen to kill a member of your security services.’

‘And his colleague,’ I said. ‘Somebody had already killed Purbright’s colleague.’

‘Ah yes, the colleague,’ said Mahmoud. ‘Since we were on the boat at the time, that, you must concede, could scarcely have been down to us.’

‘But you know about it nevertheless?’

‘The killing of the Egyptian security service man? He was travelling down from Cairo to join the boat. We think he knew that he was being followed. That is why he did not take the express
service from Cairo to Luxor, but travelled by local train, changing twice. He was at a small station, not so far from Luxor, when he was shot. Apparently he had just finished a phone call. His
final words were: “I understand. I’ll watch out for the woman.” Do you know who he might have been referring to?’

‘No,’ I said.

‘So,’ said Mahmoud, ‘you will appreciate our problem. Was the woman, in effect, on their side – another member of the security service of one country or another –
and he had to make contact with her? Or was she a threat that he had to guard against? If so, did the woman kill your friend Purbright?’

‘So Purbright
was
with MI6? And you
are
Al-Qaeda or something?’

‘It’s a murky world that you have just entered, Ethelred. Things are not always what they seem. Let us just say that we are as sure as we can be that Purbright had been sent to watch
us and interfere with our plans if he could. Did he mention any of that to you?’

‘I don’t remember,’ I said.

‘You aren’t very good at lying, are you? Your face gives you away. What puzzles us is why he clearly took you into his confidence in the way he did. You were scarcely likely to be of
much value to him. Then, out of the blue, somebody shoots him. You say it wasn’t you. And we say it wasn’t us. So, we have to conclude that there was somebody else on the boat who found
it inconvenient to have Mr Purbright on board with them. The question is: Who? And for us it is a more urgent question than you may think. When exactly did you last see Purbright alive?’

He smiled at me reassuringly, the previous threat temporarily shelved. Mahmoud was, to give him his due, quite able to play both good cop and bad cop without help from Majid. It seemed better to
keep him in good cop mode and at least appear cooperative. In any case, I too wanted to know who had shot Purbright.

‘You know the answer to that too,’ I said. ‘I last saw him alive just before he was shot. He told me he had to speak to somebody and that I should wait for him.’

‘And that person was?’

That was a question that had of course been at the back of my mind for some time. Who had Purbright gone to see, and why hadn’t he wanted to tell me who it was? He had after all taken me
into his confidence more generally. Was it the same person Elsie and I had heard him talking to the other night? And, thinking about it, Purbright had glanced at his watch before telling me that he
would be away for ten minutes. So, the meeting had certainly been prearranged. But he hadn’t seemed worried. Mildly irritated perhaps, but not in fear of his life. Except, he
had
given
me the phone number just in case . . .

‘I don’t know,’ I said rather lamely.

‘This time, I think you are telling the truth. But perhaps together we can find out what actually happened. It really is in both of our interests. Did Purbright think he was in danger?
Could he have received the same warning as his Egyptian counterpart?’

‘I think Purbright may have known something. He gave me . . .’ I paused. The phone number was written on the back of my
Southend Evening Echo
interview and, more helpfully,
would still be in the memory of my mobile phone, which had been taken from me as soon as we had arrived at our present location. ‘He certainly gave me to believe that he might be in
danger,’ I said.

‘Did you hear the shot?’

‘No, there was too much noise.’

‘But a pistol shot is quite loud, would you not agree? And you were very close?’

‘Yes to both of those questions,’ I said. ‘Perhaps the killer used a silencer?’

‘No, three people apparently heard the shot quite distinctly – so the killer did not use a silencer. Perhaps Purbright was shot further away from you – and closer to them
– and he subsequently managed to stagger back that far?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said. The main objection to the staggering hypothesis was that there had been plenty of blood around Purbright’s body, but I couldn’t remember
seeing any anywhere else on deck. Had there been blood on the wall behind him? It had been dark and I hadn’t checked – at the time, examining blood spatter patterns had seemed a lower
priority than checking whether the killer was still at large. The balance of probability was that Purbright had collapsed and died pretty much where he was shot, but I couldn’t be absolutely
sure.

‘Were you aware of anyone – one of the passengers or crew – taking an undue interest in Mr Purbright?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘But the stone at the temple may have been aimed at him.’

‘But, if that was not an accident, the rock was surely intended for you or Mr Proctor?’

‘I was there with Purbright a few moments before.’

‘So the stone could have been aimed at Purbright by somebody who had not realized he had moved on?’ asked Mahmoud.

‘Your guess is as good as mine,’ I said.

‘On the contrary. You were there at the temple. Majid and I were back at the boat. Your guess would be considerably better informed. If the shooting was the second attempt on
Purbright’s life, that would indicate a determined and rather reckless assassin, would it not?’

‘If you say so.’

‘But, Ethelred, you didn’t see anyone up on the roof?’

‘No.’

‘What do you know about Lizzi Hull?’

‘Nothing really.’

‘She is well informed on Middle Eastern matters.’

‘She said that she could understand why somebody might choose to be a terrorist – that’s miles away from actually being one.’

‘I agree. Then Miss Watson? Miss Benson? Lady Muntham?’

‘You are ruling out the men? On the basis of a chance remark, overheard at a railway station?’

‘Not entirely, but we have to look at probabilities. We don’t have very long, to tell you the truth.’

‘You don’t suspect Elsie?’

‘No.’

‘Tell me,’ I said, ‘why was it only Elsie that you told you were policemen?’

‘There’s nothing so convincing as allowing a story to come out bit by bit from an apparently reliable source.’

‘You were counting on her not to keep it a secret?’

‘Of course. Did she not tell you straight away?’

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘But, in the meantime, we are still no closer to identifying the killer. And before you accuse us again, I repeat that it is in our common interest that we believe each other for a
moment.’

‘Does it really matter to you who killed him?’

‘Oh yes, it matters to us. And to you. You see, it affects how we deal with the small problem of the
Khedive
and those who are still on it.’

‘The
Khedive
is hardly your problem. They’ll already be towing it off the sandbank,’ I said.

‘On the contrary. I doubt that will happen until the morning,’ said Mahmoud. ‘We still have our options open.’

‘You mean you might go back and blow it up?’

‘You really are convinced we are terrorists, aren’t you?’

‘Yes,’ I said.

Mahmoud smiled. ‘I’ll leave you to work on your interview.’

But somehow, in spite of his consideration in leaving me alone, I couldn’t quite interest myself in the
Scunthorpe Telegraph
any more.

It was perhaps half an hour later when Majid came to see me.

‘I am sorry that you are not being treated as well as I would like,’ he said.

I reassessed the good cop/bad cop thing. Majid was not, after all, completely redundant in the scheme of things. Mahmoud had worried me. Maybe Majid would now set out some proposal that would
offer me a hope of safety and secure my agreement to participate in whatever plan they had dreamt up.

‘I can’t say I’m comfortable, but I can’t complain at being mistreated,’ I said.

Majid shook his head grimly: ‘I thought Mahmoud would have said something to you. There’s been a change in plan.’

‘So what is the new plan?’

‘
You
are his new plan. You don’t need to blow up a boat with thirty or forty people on it to get publicity. There are plenty of other ways of grabbing the world’s
attention for a few days. A video of the death of a famous writer, for example.’

‘You mean me?’ I asked. I hoped he didn’t.

‘That’s Mahmoud’s preference – but we don’t always get everything we wish for in this life.’

‘Meaning what?’

‘Listen,’ said Majid, dropping his voice to an urgent whisper. ‘Things are not quite as they seem.’

‘In what way?’ I asked.

‘Keep your voice down. I really
am
with the Egyptian police,’ said Majid.

‘And the others?’

‘As you have already guessed, they are part of a group of very dangerous extremists.’

‘Any particular reason why I should believe you aren’t part of the group too?’

‘I can understand why you might be cautious. But the risks I shall ask you to take are small ones compared with the risk that I am running myself.’

‘I guess I would have to agree with that. If that’s the truth, you’re taking a big chance telling me all this.’

‘I’m taking a big chance being with the group at all. Mahmoud is beginning to suspect. It’s time for me to – what is the phrase you use? – come in from the cold.
But first I need to get you back to the
Khedive
unharmed.’

‘How?’

‘We’ll come to that in a moment.’

‘But I still don’t understand why I am here. What was the change of plan? What does Mahmoud intend to do with me?’

‘The original plan, as you seem to know, was to blow up the
Khedive
. Security’s tight these days, so we weren’t going to risk bringing the explosive on board with us and
keeping it in our cabin. Our role was to suss out where the explosive would go – and to make sure that our friends got on board with the goods. Then we hit a problem. The boat was going too
slowly to make the rendezvous. Mahmoud also thought that Purbright was onto the plan and that we simply didn’t have time to delay everything by the day or so that was needed. He was ready to
abandon the whole operation, but then Purbright was shot.’

‘And that meant you were free to act?’ I asked.

‘It meant that there was probably somebody else on board who was on our side – though we couldn’t be sure which organization they came from. We had no wish to blow up one of
our own people. So there was a change of plan, while we tried to contact other groups and see whether they had operatives in the area.’

‘But,’ I said, ‘up to that point, Majid, you were intending to simply go along with Plan A, which entailed blowing us all up. Couldn’t you and Purbright have simply
overcome Mahmoud?’

‘Not without destroying my cover. There’s much more at stake here than just the
Khedive
. In any case, the boat would have been safe. It would have been my job to set the
timer. That’s my field of expertise. This time, the bomb would have unaccountably failed to detonate. These things happen.’

‘And the change of plan?’

‘Kidnap was always Plan B. And we had discovered that we had a celebrity on board.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘Your agent told us. You are a very famous writer. Mahmoud decided you would make the best hostage. Grainy footage of your death, filmed in some anonymous location, would have quite an
impact.’

‘So, I’m about to be beheaded on camera because my agent’s attempts at PR finally worked?’

‘Not necessarily. That, as I say, was Mahmoud’s idea. The group as a whole is still divided on the best way to exploit this opportunity. Others see your fame as a good reason for
keeping you alive. If you could be persuaded as to the rightness of their cause, you could be valuable to us. Let’s say for the moment that the majority view is that you are too important to
allow you to be blown up or shot . . . or beheaded. Let’s say that they have a role that somebody like you might play and, while that is the preferred option, there is a good reason for
keeping you alive and unharmed.’