Читать книгу The Mingrelian Conspiracy - Michael Pearce - Страница 7

‘It’s an affront!’ said the Chargé.

‘Which we deeply regret,’ said Paul, ‘and shall do something about.’

‘Have already done something about,’ supplemented Owen. Paul had asked for support in his grovel and Owen had agreed to accompany him.

‘I am glad to hear it,’ said the Chargé. ‘The men have been flogged?’

‘Well, not exactly –’

‘Yet,’ said Owen quickly. ‘There are a few processes to go through first.’

‘A military court, you mean? Well, there is something to be said for letting criminals experience the full majesty of the law. It inculcates respect for authority.’

‘Quite so.’

‘All the same,’ said the Chargé, ‘the sooner they are flogged, the better. It’s like a dog. The longer the gap between crime and punishment the harder it is for the creature to understand. Soldiers are animals and should be treated as such.’

‘Well, yes, but –’

‘Believe me. I was in the Army myself, the Russian Army, that is. I know. They’re all peasants, you see, and as stupid as oxes. The only way you can drive anything into their thick heads is with the whip. Even then it’s difficult. Being peasants, they’re used to it. They don’t feel it as we would. It’s got to follow sharply after the event. And no half measures, either! How many lashes?’

‘How many – ?’

‘I’d advise at least sixty. Some say forty, but I think you’ve got to allow for the sun –’

The sun?’

‘Hardens the skin. They don’t feel it as much. No, in my view sixty should be standard. Of course, in a case as serious as this the standard is hardly good enough. No, on second thoughts it should be more. Eighty, perhaps. A hundred for the ringleaders.’

‘We’ll bear your advice in mind.’

‘Do. Do. Glad to share my experience with you. You’ll let them drink, of course?’

‘Well, I rather think they’ve been doing too much of that already –’

‘No, no. Just before they’re flogged. A glass or two of vodka. It makes it easier for them. I used to give them a bottle. I’m a humane man, you know.’

‘Well, of course, each country has its own practices –’

‘It doesn’t have to be vodka. Whisky would do. Or rum. You used to use rum, I believe, in the British Navy?’

‘I believe so, yes. A while ago.’

‘It’s better if they’re drunk. Mind you, some would say they’re drunk all the time.’

‘Yes, our soldiers have much in common.’

‘Discipline. That’s what they need.’

‘They certainly do. And I’m sorry you should have suffered because of a lack of it on the part of our soldiers.’

‘It’s nothing, it’s nothing. If it were just myself I would say no more. But, of course, an affront to my country – well, I am bound to resist that. Especially with the Grand Duke’s visit so imminent.’

‘Grand Duke?’ said Owen.

‘Yes. Only two and a half weeks away. I tick off each day on my calendar. Between you and me, it will be a great relief when it’s all over. If anything goes wrong, it’ll be my head on the block. Not literally, of course. We’re not a barbarous people.’

‘I must apologize once again,’ said Paul, beginning to rise from his chair.

‘Say no more about it. A mere bagatelle. A few drunken muzhiks, that’s all it was. Of course, I cannot formally withdraw my complaint.’

‘Oh, dear,’ said Paul, sitting down again. ‘I was hoping –’

‘If it was me, that would be the end of it. But, of course, when it’s my country –’

‘No insult was intended, Chargé!’

‘Of course not. They were too drunk to know what they were doing. But one was received, and since it was in public, and in view of the forthcoming visit –’

‘But, Chargé, precisely because of the forthcoming visit, mightn’t we hush things up? We don’t want a diplomatic incident, do we?’

‘We don’t,’ said the Chargé, ‘but back at home they might.’

‘I must confess this is a blow. Chargé. I had hoped for a quiet run-up to the Grand Duke’s visit.’

‘Me too,’ said the Chargé.

‘You don’t think you could postpone your complaint? Say, till after the visit was over?’

‘It’s already with the Parquet. It wouldn’t look good if I was to withdraw it and then put it back in.’

‘True, true. All the same – the fact is. Chargé, this stupid incident comes at a most awkward time.’

‘I can see that. Any other time, the British wouldn’t pay any attention.’

‘Well, that’s exactly it. Go on. Chargé, be a decent chap and I will send you round a bottle of Château d’Yquem.’

‘Well – ‘said the Chargé, weakening.

‘You’re the only one who’s left now.’

‘There were others? Other countries are involved?’

‘No, no! It’s just that the Mingrelian community –’

‘Mingrelian!’ The Chargé shot upright. ‘They were behind it?’

‘No, no! They were on the receiving end, actually –’

‘Assaulted?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

The Chargé leaped up from his chair and threw his arms around Paul.

‘The Mingrelians? Assaulted? But this is excellent news, excellent!’ He folded Owen, too, in a deep embrace. ‘My government will be delighted! Oh, that’s the way to do it! First we give it them back at home, now you give it them here! Excellent!’

He pressed the bell on his desk.

‘Vodka!’ he shouted. ‘Vodka, to celebrate! A toast! Undying friendship between our countries!’ He pressed Paul emotionally to him once again. ‘That is the way allies should behave! I will let my people know at once. The Mingrelians! Thrashed! And that’s even before Duke Nicholas gets here –’

He stopped suddenly.

‘Why not?’ he said. ‘Why not? I’ll put it to him. Those fine, brave men! A medal! For service to the Tsar! I’ll do it! You can rely on me!’

‘And the complaint? You withdraw the complaint?’

‘Complaint?’ said the Chargé. ‘What complaint? I have no complaint. Oh, no! Far from it!’

‘The Grand Duke’s visit?’ said Owen.

‘I was going to tell you about it. It’s just that I didn’t want to bother you when your mind was on more important things, like the cafés. The Khedive has invited him. In about three weeks’ time.’

‘A State Visit?’

‘Semi-State. Duke Nicholas is only the heir. He’s supposed to be on an informal tour of the Mediterranean. Well, actually, he’s so unpopular at home that the Tsar wanted to get him out of the country before someone threw a bomb at him.’

‘And the Khedive invited him here?’

‘That’s right. You, of course, will be responsible for security.’

‘There’s going to be a ball,’ said Zeinab.

‘It’s not been decided yet.’

‘And that, of course,’ said Zeinab, disregarding him, ‘creates a major problem: what am I going to wear?’

‘It’s not been decided yet. The meeting’s not till tomorrow. Look, I know. I’m going to it.’

‘And then there will be the opera as well. I’ll need two dresses. The trouble is, there isn’t a decent dress in Cairo. Anton says he might be getting some in, but everyone will be fighting for them and, besides, they’ll all have seen them. So I thought I would cable Paris direct. Now here’s the problem: I don’t want to do it through Posts and Telegraphs in the ordinary way, or else people will get to know about it. So – look, are you listening, this is important – can you send a cable for me? Using the diplomatic channel?’

‘No. Absolutely not.’

‘I’ll bet the Consul-General’s wife is.’

‘What she does is her own business.’

‘You don’t love me,’ said Zeinab.

‘Of course I love you. Now –’

‘You don’t love me. Not in the way he loves her.’

‘I should bloody hope not,’ said Owen, an image of the Consul-General and his stately lady coming vividly before his mind.

‘I know what it is. You don’t want me to go. You are ashamed of me. There will be all those lords and ladies, those petty princelings from petty little countries, Wales, I wouldn’t be surprised, and you say: what is an Egyptian woman doing among that lot? Well, let me tell you, the daughter of a Pasha, especially the illegitimate daughter of a Pasha, has got more love and life and passion in her little finger than any of them have in their whole body!’

‘I think that’s more than likely,’ said Owen.

‘Wasted!’ said Zeinab dramatically. ‘On you!’

‘Not wasted; I greatly enjoy it.’

‘In private, yes, but not in public.’

‘Well, what the hell do you want us to do? Make love in the middle of Abdin Square?’

‘Take me to the ball.’

‘I am taking you to the ball. If there is one.’

‘You know I can’t come if I’m not properly dressed.’

‘You will be properly dressed. You’ve got lots of dresses. They’re all there on the rack. Look, bloody hundreds of them –’

‘You want to see me in rags!’

‘Rags! This one cost more than a year’s pay! You told me. Afterwards.’

‘I passed the bill to my father. He will not want to see me dressed like some parvenue. He has pride. We are like that in Egypt. Proud people. We know what is fitting. Unlike the boring, bourgeois British.’

‘Look, I am not going to use the Diplomatic Postbag just to send a cable to your couturier.’

‘Just?’ said Zeinab.

Even the flies in the committee room seemed stupefied by the heat. This was unusual, thought Owen, since flies were normally the most active part of the population. Perhaps it was not the heat that was getting to them but committee life. The shutters of the committee room were kept closed in a vain attempt to keep the temperature down and perhaps the flies could never get out. They spent their lives in eternal committee. My God, thought Owen; what a life! For a second or two he felt quite indignant on their behalf but then the heat had its effect on him, too, and he settled back gloomily in his chair.

‘The itinerary first,’ said Paul. ‘Duke Nicholas will transfer to the Khedivial Yacht at Alexandria, pass through the Canal to Suez and then take the overland train to Cairo. He will spend three days in Cairo as the guest of His Royal Highness, the Khedive, and then go upriver to Luxor to view the antiquities. He will then return to Cairo and spend two days at the Palace recovering from the rigours of his journey. Then he will travel by train to Alexandria, spend a day there and depart by boat on the Thursday evening. The whole visit will last twelve days, including the two to be spent on the Royal Yacht.’

‘That bit should be all right from the point of view of security,’ observed the major.

‘He’ll be spending a good time on the water, what with the river trip,’ said McPhee.

‘I’ll turn to security later,’ said Paul. The first question, though, is what we’re going to do with him while he’s here. The Khedive would like to reproduce as far as possible the visit of Duke Nicholas’s uncle, the Crown Prince, when he came here to open the Suez Canal.’

‘Out of the question!’ said Finance Department immediately. ‘Cost too much!’

‘“As far as possible”,’ said Paul. ‘Those are the key words, I think. Surely we can accede to His Royal Highness’s wishes to that extent? Of course, we may not be able to go as far as he would like –’

‘As long as we bear in mind budgetary constraints,’ said Finance Department.

‘Just so. Now, Mr Abd-es-Salem is here representing the Court, and I wonder if he could tell us what His Royal Highness has in mind with respect to the programme?’

‘Well, last time the Khedive commissioned an opera –’

‘No!’ said Finance Department quickly.

‘– and built the new Opera House.’

‘My God!’ said Finance Department.

‘After consideration, the Khedive would not, perhaps, wish to go so far this time. But he does feel that, in view of its centrality on the previous visit, opera should have at least some part in the programme –’

‘Does he now?’ said Paul, sitting up.

‘Out of the question!’ said Finance Department. ‘Too costly!’

‘Oh, come!’

‘That was what bankrupted Egypt in the first place,’ said Finance Department.

‘What better thing to be bankrupted by?’ murmured Paul.

‘Actually, I must support the Khedive,’ said Owen, who thought there was a chance of getting a performance of Aida out of this. ‘I feel that since His Royal Highness has expressed the wish to reproduce as closely as possible the original arrangements, we ought to do the best we can to oblige him.’

Mr Abd-es-Salem flashed him a grateful glance.

‘If you’re thinking of Aida,’ said Finance Department smugly, ‘you can think again. Aida wasn’t actually performed on the original visit. It was commissioned for the opening of the Canal but wasn’t ready on time. It was performed some time after.’

‘All the more reason for the Grand Duke to be able to see it now,’ suggested Paul.

‘Aida is completely out of the question,’ said Finance Department with emphasis. ‘I have this straight from the Treasury in London.’

‘They actually specified there was to be no Aida?’

‘Certainly. Opera is something they really know about in the Treasury.’

‘We could dispense with the animals,’ said Paul temptingly.

‘Animals?’ said the major.

‘Live animals were a feature of the original production,’ said Finance Department. ‘Lots of them! Actually, it wouldn’t be a good idea,’ he said to Paul. ‘Suppose the Grand Duke got eaten?’

‘We could keep him away from them. Owen could see to that –’

‘No animals,’ said Finance Department firmly. ‘And no Aida, either. Of course, there is no reason why you shouldn’t choose another opera. The Treasury is not opposed to opera in principle. Far from it.’

‘Well, that is a helpful suggestion,’ said Paul. ‘Now –’

The Army had been fidgeting for some time.

‘Could we get on to the real business?’

Paul raised his eyebrows.

‘I thought that was the real business,’ he said.

‘What about security?’

‘We’ve got to agree on the programme first, haven’t we? Right, let’s move on. There will be a Grand Ball, of course …’

‘There could be difficulties,’ said Owen.

‘What difficulties?’

‘Well, dresses. That kind of thing.’

Paul glanced at his notes.

‘No, this has already been decided. The Consul-General’s wife –’

‘A March Past?’ suggested the Army, some time later.

‘March Past?’

‘The Khedive reviewing his troops.’

‘There may be international observers,’ said Paul. ‘I don’t think we should make our military presence too obvious. We could have a jolly procession, I suppose.’

‘The Khedive would like that,’ said Mr Abd-es-Salem. ‘In fact, he would wish to take part in it himself. He could ride at the head with the Grand Duke in an open landau.’

‘Is that a good idea?’ asked Owen.

‘Why not?’ said Mr Abd-es-Salem, surprised.

‘Because it would make it easy for someone to take a pot shot at him.’

‘The Khedive feels safe with his people,’ said Mr Abd-es-Salem reprovingly.

‘I was thinking of the Grand Duke,’ said Owen hastily and untruly.

‘Surely there is no risk of that?’

‘Cairo is a city of many nationalities. And not all of them are sympathetic to Russia.’

‘Even so –’

‘The Balkan countries, for instance.’

‘Ah, yes,’ said Mr Abd-es-Salem thoughtfully. ‘The Balkans!’

‘The Mingrelians!’ added Owen, for the benefit of the Army.

‘My God, yes!’ said the major. ‘The Mingrelians!’

‘Round them up,’ said Shearer. ‘Round them all up!’

‘All of them?’ said Owen. ‘There are over twenty thousand people from various Balkan countries in Cairo alone. The place is like a miniature Balkans. It’s a potential powder keg, I can tell you. I think this visit is crazy. Why don’t we call the whole thing off?’

‘Call it off?’ said Mr Abd-es-Salem, aghast. ‘His Royal Highness has set his heart on it!’

‘I’m afraid we’ve gone too far down the road to call it off now,’ said Paul. ‘Although I agree with you about the potential threat.’

‘Threat?’ said Mr Abd-es-Salem, with considerable- asperity. ‘Are you saying that the British can no longer maintain order? Even with an Army?’

‘Certainly not!’ said the major indignantly.

‘We can handle it,’ said Captain Shearer.

‘Can you?’ said Owen quickly. ‘Well, there’s a lot to be said for –’

‘No chance!’ said Paul firmly. ‘It has already been decided that the Mamur Zapt has overall responsibility for the security arrangements. But a good try!’ he added, turning to Owen.

‘You again?’ said the café owner. He was sitting with his legs heavily bandaged and propped across a chair in front of him.

‘I like coffee,’ said Owen.

‘You don’t think you could enjoy it somewhere else?’

‘I especially like it here.’

‘You get in the way, you know.’

‘You mean, the men won’t come while I’m here? Isn’t that a good thing?’

‘I don’t know. They’ll come again when you’re not here.’

‘I could leave someone with you.’

‘They’re big blokes.’

‘This is a big bloke.’

‘Hanging around all day drinking coffee?’

‘He could work for you. In fact, it would be better if he did. You could say he had come up from the country.’

‘Why don’t you just go away?’ said the café owner.

‘I’m like the other lot. I’m never going to go away.’

The café owner cursed softly.

‘You get me down,’ he said. ‘You really do.’

‘I’m your only way out,’ said Owen. ‘You’ll be glad of me. Later.’

‘A lot later,’ said the café owner. ‘When I’m in heaven.’

‘Even before. It’s just the next bit that’s hard.’

‘Why pick the hard way?’

‘Because if you pick the other way, it never ends. You don’t just pay once. You go on paying. You pay all the time. They come more often. And after a while they ask for more. And then more. And then more still. In the end you’re working only for them. All you’ve built up is theirs. Look, I know what it takes to build up a place like this, what it costs you. It costs you years of your life and you’ve only got one life. Going to give it all away, now, are you?’

‘I’m not giving anything away,’ said the café owner. ‘But I’m still thinking.’

‘Think on. Take the long view. You’ve had to take the long view, haven’t you, all your life? Otherwise you’d never have got where you are. Think long now. My way is hard at first but then there’s an end to it. The other way is easy today and hard tomorrow. And tomorrow goes on for a long time.’