Part 30 (1/2)
Jack didn't follow because he knew she didn't want him to.
Within seconds, as the crowds pressed around her, all he could see between a bobbing ma.s.s of white turbans and black veils was her Rita Hayworth mane of hair. He wasn't sure, but as she disappeared from view he thought that her shoulders were shaking-almost as if she was crying.
TWENTY-SEVEN.
”I wasn't sure the powers that be were going to agree to the grocery contract,” Archie said a few days later as they reviewed the successful outcome of what they referred to as their ”grocer and son” operation.
”They had to.” There was wry amus.e.m.e.nt in Jack's voice. ”It was the only way of getting the son to give any information. Once the British army contract for vegetables was in place I had him exactly where I wanted him. It was a case of talk or lose the contract-and by bluffing that I knew more than I did about his 'crazy army plots,' I scared the living daylights out of him. The poor devil thought he was going to be charged with treason if he didn't cooperate.”
Archie lit a cigarette. ”So we now know there's a group of Egyptian army officers itching to rise in revolt and we have the name of one of the ringleaders. Captain Anwar Sadat,” he said with great satisfaction. ”I'm not surprised the brigadier is pleased.”
It was late evening and they were in Jack's office. Doris had long gone, as had the great majority of people who worked at GHQ. Jack was in his favorite position-slouched comfortably in his swivel chair, his feet on the table.
”It doesn't bring us any nearer to finding our spy, though,” he said, frowning. ”The information the German military is getting isn't the kind a captain in the Egyptian army would be privy to. We need to be looking closer to home. I'm interested in every high-ranking officer at GHQ who has an Egyptian girlfriend. That's the way I see the information being obtained, Archie. Via pillow talk.”
”And Sadat?” Archie asked. He was perched on the corner of the desk, one leg swinging. ”What is our next move where he's concerned?”
”Our informant will continue to give us information-he's too deeply compromised not to. And Sadat will be followed. I've a.s.signed that task to Slade. If Sadat is in contact in any way with the chap we're after, we'll get him.” He glanced down at his watch. ”It's past midnight, Archie. What say we trawl the nightclubs and check every officer we see with an Egyptian girlfriend? Where shall we start? The Kit-Kat or the Sphinx?”
”There's a small club off Kasr el-Nil Street, near the Turf Club, that would be better. The belly dancer there is great.”
”Let's give it a try, then.” Jack lifted his feet from the desk and reached for his Sam Browne belt and holster. He was quite sure that his theory about a British officer with an Egyptian girlfriend was the right one. He couldn't imagine a British officer knowingly pa.s.sing secrets to a German spy, but Cairo was a city where, given the number of troops that were in it, women were in chronically short supply. If a man found an Egyptian girlfriend she could be pa.s.sing secrets either for the money or as a true Egyptian patriot. The way he saw it, when her boyfriend was asleep the girl would copy information from the papers in his briefcase and then pa.s.s that information to a German informant, who would then transmit the information to the German military.
Before Jack had left Jerusalem he'd a.s.sumed that tracking down such an officer would be relatively straightforward. There couldn't, he had thought, be that many officers at GHQ with access not only to top secret doc.u.ments but to top secret doc.u.ments they had the clearance to take out of the building in a briefcase. Such an officer had to be extremely high-ranking, which would automatically cut down the list of suspects.
But then he had seen the number of high-ranking officers crammed into Grey Pillars and had known that even if his theory was right, tracking down the officer responsible was not going to be easy.
The club off Kasr el-Nil Street was exceedingly small and the minute he stepped through its beaded curtains he doubted many officers would be found there.
”Welcome to club King Cheops, Major,” a waiter said, swiftly taking in the crowns on Jack's shoulder straps. ”Would you like champagne? Company? We have very nice girls at King Cheops. Very good dancers.”
”We'd like a table and two Stellas,” Jack said pleasantly. ”No girls. Not tonight.”
As they were led across to a table in front of the stage Archie said, ”Not tonight? I thought you were a happily married man and that Fawzia was in Cairo?”
”Fawzia is in Cairo,” Jack said as he sat down, ”but our marriage is over. And I don't want any sympathy, because I don't need it. Now, how long d'you think we're going to have to wait until your belly dancer comes onstage?”
They sat through a dreadful acrobatic act and an even more dreadful snake-charming act and then, with a roll of drums, the tension in the little club mounted and the noisy clientele at the other tables became even noisier.
”Zahra's good. Really good,” Archie said in happy antic.i.p.ation, raising his voice so as to be heard. ”I reckon her father must own the club, because I can't see any other reason for her not being in demand at the Sphinx or the Kit-Kat.”
When Zahra glided barefoot onto the tiny podium dressed in a gold-sequined halter top and a chiffon hip skirt, bracelets on her arms and ankles, and tiny cymbals on her fingers, Jack could see that she was exceptionally beautiful in exactly the same way as Fawzia. Her kohl-rimmed eyes were doe-shaped and slanted, her eyebrows perfectly symmetrical arches, her waist-length hair a gleaming blue-black curtain.
Over the years he had seen many belly dancers, but as the familiar sinuous music began and Zahra's hips swiveled slowly and sensuously, Jack thought that perhaps Archie was right. Zahra was far too good a dancer for such a tiny club.
Beside him, Archie had hunched forward, mesmerized. Under other circ.u.mstances Jack was pretty sure he would have been similarly mesmerized, but he had too much on his mind. Earlier that afternoon, when Brigadier Haigh had congratulated him on infiltrating the subversive officers within the Egyptian army, he had also given him a grim warning: ”Now that Claude Auchinleck has replaced General Wavell as C in C, it's going to be all systems go to relieve Tobruk. With a big push like this in the offing it's vital no information is pa.s.sed on to the Germans. Their spy in Cairo has to be found, Jack.”
It was, Jack reflected, a task easier said than done.
The music had now become frenetic. Her spine arched and her head thrown back, Zahra's hips were gyrating faster and faster.
It was then that he saw Darius.
He was seated with another man at a corner table. As their eyes met Jack knew Darius had been observing him for some time. Later he was to wonder whether Darius had intended to make his presence known.
For now he merely said to Archie, ”I've just seen an old friend. It might be a good idea if you wandered down to the Kit-Kat. This place is far too seedy for the officer we are looking for.”
”Will do,” Archie said as Zahra exited the stage to a storm of applause.
Jack was already halfway to Darius's table. Seeing his approach, the thin-faced man with Darius rose to his feet and walked speedily off to the bar.
Darius also stood. ”I'd heard you were in town,” he said as they slapped each other on the back in an old-friends' gesture. ”Are you just pa.s.sing through or here for the duration?”
It was reminiscent of the way Fawzia had greeted him and he said wryly, ”As far as I know, I'm here for the duration. How are things? The only person I've caught up with so far is Delia.”
”What about Fawzia? Surely you've seen her?”
”I have, but she's been seeing someone else and has no intention of giving him up. I'll be filing for a divorce at some point.”
Darius said with an odd smile, ”And do you intend naming the boyfriend as corespondent?”
”I will. And if you know his ident.i.ty I'd appreciate you telling me who he is.”
Darius remained infuriatingly silent.
”Come on, Darius,” he said impatiently. ”Don't try and score points. I haven't the time for it. I may not look as if I'm working, but I am. I've another half-dozen clubs to visit before I hit the sack.”
”So you've come to the King Cheops to find a German spy?” He topped up his drink. ”Rumor has it the city is crawling with them. You'll probably have a cell full before morning.”
”I doubt it, but I would appreciate the name of Fawzia's friend. I'm a.s.suming he's an Egyptian and that you know his name.”
”You a.s.sume right on both counts, but I'm not sure you're going to cite him as a corespondent.”
Suddenly Zahra, who had changed into a scarlet c.o.c.ktail dress, approached the table and sat down. ”Where has Constantin gone to, Darius. Do you know?” she asked.
”The bar, I think. Let me introduce my brother-in-law to you. Zahra, Jack Bazeljette. Jack, Zahra. Her boyfriend is a friend of mine.”
Jack nodded, then turned back to Darius. ”The name,” Jack said, barely able to keep his patience in check, ”and then I'll be on my way.”
”Farouk.” There was naked disgust in Darius's voice. ”His Majesty, King of Egypt and of Sudan, Sovereign of Nubia, of Kordofan, and of Darfur. And if you attempt to lay a finger on him his aides will have your head. If you cite him as corespondent in your divorce action your government will have you cas.h.i.+ered.”
Jack knew instantly that Darius was telling the truth. Everything now made sense. Fawzia's amus.e.m.e.nt when he had said he intended to give her lover the hiding of his life; the cavalier way royal aides had whisked her off to the palace. The Queen had never been the object of her visits there. It had always been the King. And because it was the King there wasn't a d.a.m.n thing he could do about it.
One word of accusation and he would be whisked out of Egypt before he could bat an eyelid. Not only that, any word of accusation would be utterly pointless, for Farouk would merely deny everything.