“I’m telling you, I can’t sleep with her.”
“All right, big guy. If you don’t mind, then, I’ll have a go.”
34
When James Wright wanted to see Alku, he would usually send a message through Khalil the office boy. This time he called him himself.
“Get here right now,” he told him curtly, not waiting for a response before hanging up. Alku knew that the matter must be serious, so he left immediately for the Automobile Club, and when he arrived, he found a group of men, official looking but plainclothes, in the entrance hall. Suleyman the doorman told him under his breath that they were secret agents. Alku dashed across the entrance hall with Hameed scuttling along behind him. The staff rushed over to Alku, but he ignored them. They watched him with a mixture of fear and anticipation, as if waiting for him to explain what was going on. In Mr. Wright’s office, he found Muhammad Alawi Pasha, the king’s private secretary, and Anwar Bey Makki, the head of state security. Alku knew them both well. These two positions were among the most important in the country, not just by dint of their portfolios but because of their proximity to the king. Anwar Bey Makki oversaw, in the full sense of the word, the king’s movements and was in charge of all the security measures carried out by the royal guard. He had the authority to approve or cancel any and all royal visits based on his judgment of the security considerations. He only needed to croak out, “Your Majesty’s safety cannot be assured during this visit,” for the event to be canceled, no matter how important it was.
Alku bowed and greeted those present in French. They responded as if they were distracted, and Alku realized that something serious had happened. He stood there with an officious smile. Wright picked up a photograph on his desk and handed it to Alku.
“Look at this and tell me what you think.”
Alku looked at the picture, and an expression of horror appeared on his face. The photograph showed His Majesty in a tall pointed red hat with multicolored pom-poms, sitting at the poker table beside the French danseuse Charlotte. Underneath the photograph was the caption, “Down with the decadent and corrupt king.”
Alku took his time looking at the photograph, passing it from one hand to the other. He needed a moment to absorb this shock.
“This picture of His Majesty was taken here in the Automobile Club,” said Wright, “when he was honoring our New Year’s Eve party with his presence. Thousands of copies are being handed out on the streets of Cairo.”
Alku gnashed his teeth and grimaced. Then he looked at Wright and asked him gruffly, “Do you know who is distributing this photograph?”
Wright gestured dismissively at Alku and barked at him, “Never mind who is handing them out. How was it even taken? You are responsible for this. No one could take such a photograph of His Majesty like this without the help of your staff.”
“Mr. Wright, you might remember my having told you,” Alku said, “that something had changed in the staff’s manner and that I asked you to take measures to reinstitute discipline, which request you refused.”
Wright had not been expecting to be shown up in front of the two high officials. He banged his fist on the desk and shouted at Alku, “When a man has been negligent in his duties, the easiest thing for him is to try to pass on the blame.”
Alku fell silent and looked at the photograph again. Everything about it indicated that it had been taken in the Club. Moreover, the photographer had taken it at just the right angle to show all the details.
“I’m not shirking my responsibility,” Alku said quietly. “I shall investigate the matter, and when I find the culprit, I shall show him no mercy. All that I ask is that you back me up in any punishment I decide to mete out.”
Wright made no response. He was doing all he could to hold back a flood of invective because of the two august visitors. He gripped his pipe in his teeth and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment and then gestured at Alku.
“You can go now.”
Alku muttered his good-byes, turned and left.
“The situation is very grave indeed,” Anwar Bey Makki said. “What has happened constitutes two crimes: an invasion of His Majesty’s privacy and an underhanded attempt to malign him. You cannot have forgotten, Pasha, that we live in a Muslim country. The thought of the king gambling and keeping company with a woman of easy virtue can do great harm.”
Alawi Pasha had no answer but, in his position as the king’s private secretary, felt that he ought to say something.
“What do those vile saboteurs want for Egypt?” he yelled. “His Majesty works day and night to lift his people out of their ignorance and poverty. Do they consider it improper for him to distract himself a little? Is he not a man who needs some relief?”
“Rest assured,” Anwar Bey Makki replied, “they will pay dearly for this.”
Alawi Pasha waved his hand and said, “Ils sont vraiment des salops.”
Anway Bey Makki leaned his head forward and continued, “Mr. Wright. We have a few questions that need answering, such as who photographed His Majesty and how did he get the camera into the Club? How is it that none of the members or the casino staff saw him? It could well be that the photographer has an accomplice among the Club staff.”
“How can I be of help?” Mr. Wright said.
“To begin, we’ll need a list of all the names of the staff and the members of the Automobile Club,” said Anwar Bey in a firm yet polite tone of voice.
Mr. Wright nodded. “I will have a list drawn up and sent over to you today.”
Anwar Bey looked at Alawi Pasha as if to say, “Shall we?” and the two of them stood up to go.
As they were leaving, Wright shook their hands, and with a tense smile, he said, “Alawi Pasha. Please convey my most abject apologies to His Majesty.”
“His Majesty,” retorted Alawi Pasha sharply, “used to consider the Automobile Club a safe haven where he could relax, but unfortunately it now appears that your club has been infiltrated by saboteurs and Communists.”
“I give you my word that this will not happen again.”
“I fear,” said Alawi Pasha, smiling acerbically, “that you will not have an opportunity to fulfill your promise. His Majesty is not likely to return to the Automobile Club. His numerous palaces and royal retreats afford him complete privacy.”
“I hope that His Majesty will give us one more chance.”
Wright’s voice had an imploring tone to it, but Alawi Pasha just puffed on his cigar and said, “I’ll be frank with you. Once you have lost the king’s confidence, it is exceedingly difficult to gain it again.”
Alawi Pasha left for Abdin Palace, but Anwar Bey Makki took a few minutes to give instructions to his officers before his driver took him back to his office. The night shift staff were immediately summoned from their homes, joining the rest of the staff assembled on the first floor. They were kept waiting in the corridor that led to the administrative offices. Scores of them were standing there, quaking, exchanging whispers as two tough-looking security agents stood at the door, sending the staff one by one into the office, where two officers were carrying out the interrogation. There was a third, and more junior, officer in charge of another team of secret agents, who were checking the building from top to bottom. This officer went into every room, with the agents leading the way like a pack of hunting dogs, turning everything upside down, until he indicated that they should follow him elsewhere. They did the same with the rooms on the roof, the restaurant and the bar, but they uncovered nothing. In the casino, the agents examined everything even more carefully as the officer cast an eagle eye into every nook and cranny. Again, they came up with nothing and stood awaiting further orders from the officer, who suddenly pointed overhead, “Look up there!”
The agent raised his head. The officer continued, “Get a ladder.”
In a few minutes, two of the staff were carrying a tall wooden stepladder, which they positioned underneath the chandelier. The officer clambered up qu
ickly and examined the various components of the chandelier. Then he came back down and left with his policemen. An hour later, two English army engineers turned up with a machine that looked like a vacuum cleaner, with which they checked out the whole Club, noting the readings it was giving, until finally, they came across the camera in the casino and detached it from the chandelier.
That night, Anwar Bey Makki convened a meeting with his senior officers, with the glass orb placed in front of him on his desk. Having briefed them on the situation, he said, “What happened can only be interpreted one way. First, this camera is a new model and beyond the means of ordinary Egyptians. Second, its placement in the chandelier means that someone installed it there and then needed to remove the film and have it developed. All of this indicates an organized conspiracy.” He fell silent for a moment and then continued, “The most important thing now is for us to ascertain that there are no other cameras installed. We will have to make a careful search of all the palaces and the royal retreats.”
The meeting lasted a whole hour, during which they studied the situation from all angles. A detailed plan was laid out to uncover the saboteurs and to foil their schemes. By the end of the meeting, each of the officers had been charged with his respective duties.
That same day, Wright wrote a notice in English and affixed it to the door, apologizing that the Club would unfortunately not be open due to a short circuit, which was being repaired. Labib the telephone operator gave the same excuse to all the members who called to reserve a table. The Automobile Club was closed for the whole day. The staff interviews finished at one in the morning, and the officers left, but the staff had to stay in the Club. Alku had forbidden them to go home after the questioning and ordered them all up to the roof. It was an unprecedented scene, with the staff from both shifts lined up on one side of the roof and Alku standing on the other. It was also odd to see half of the staff wearing their work caftans and the other half their street clothes, all of them anxious and huddling together as if for protection. The photograph of His Majesty gambling, in the silly hat, sitting beside his mistress, had been taken in the Club without anyone noticing, and then it had been printed and handed out in the streets. A catastrophe had fallen upon their heads from a completely unforeseen direction. Now Alku was going to inflict some punishment on them all. In spite of their terror, they were resigned. Not one dared to speak up, plead ignorance or even make a comment. It was as if they were being driven inexorably toward a fate they had to confront. No words of protest or pleas of ignorance would change things a whit. Even though they had committed no crime, deep down they had accepted the inevitability of being punished. Given the crime was of such a shocking magnitude, whatever they were about to suffer was justified, at least to a certain degree.
Alku looked them over, his face ashen as he ground his teeth. He put his hands behind his back and paced the length of the roof twice. Finally, he stopped and, looking daggers at them, he roared, “Which of you bastards installed the camera?”
A general muttering arose as all tried to disavow any knowledge of the photograph. Alku raised his hand and shouted, “Enough, you pack of dogs. We brought you here from Upper Egypt. We cleaned you up, helped you to get apartments and treated you like human beings, and in return you betray His Majesty the king!”
This time their mutterings were intelligible, “We have been framed, Your Excellency! By God, we haven’t done anything!”
By now Alku was panting with anger. He said nothing for a while, trying to control his breathing, and then thundered at them, “Wailing like a bunch of women! By God, I shall show you no mercy. I don’t accept that the camera could have been installed without your knowing. You bunch of turncoats. You all deserve a good thrashing, and you would get it, by God, if I had not given my word.”
Alku fell silent, and suddenly an ugly, nervous smile appeared on his face. Then he spoke again, spitting out his syllables like darts. “Henceforth, you will not get a piastre in tips. You will subsist on your salaries alone.”
It took a few moments for the shock to sink in. By the time some had started imploring Alku for a more merciful punishment, he had turned on his heel and, as if hearing nothing, had marched off down the stairs, heading for his car with Hameed prancing along behind him.
SALEHA
Said quarreled with Kamel so loudly that it might have come to blows had my mother not intervened. Afterward, Said went back to Tanta, and calm returned to the apartment.
The next morning, Aisha came to visit us. When my mother started to speak, Aisha interrupted her, “Fayeqa told me everything.”
My mother sighed.
“So, what do you think?”
Aisha wiped her brow with the palm of her hand and answered, “Look, Saleha. I know that Said and Fayeqa want you to stay with Abd el-Barr until they sign the contract for the factory.”
No one said a word. Aisha wiped her face again and continued, “God knows, Saleha, that I love you as my own daughter. I want the same for you as I would for Fayeqa. Of course you have to get a divorce.”
My mother’s face showed great relief.
“God preserve you, Aisha,” she said quietly, “for speaking so honestly.”
“Fayeqa didn’t like it when I told her,” continued Aisha. “She gave me hell on the telephone. Naturally, she is looking out for her husband’s interests. But I speak the truth, and Saleha cannot stay with that man for a day longer.”
“Kamel is trying to make Abd el-Barr divorce her,” said my mother. “I hope God will provide someone better next time.”
Aisha went back to being her usual, jovial self. She bit her lips, raised her eyebrows and added, “Of course she’ll find someone better next time. Saleha is a living doll. And she is still intact. Virgin as the day she was born. Any man would want her.”
In spite of my anxiety, I could not help laughing. Aisha seemed unable to hold a conversation without talking about sex. My mother gave her a big hug at the front door as she left. I was touched that she was on our side. If Said went into business with Abd el-Barr, it would be to Fayeqa’s benefit, but even so, Aisha believed that I should have a divorce. For all her racy talk, she was good in all senses of the word. How many men would stand up for the right thing if it went against their own interest? After hearing what Aisha had said, I felt a sense of relief. Why should I not go and study mathematics, which I loved so much? I was immensely cheered as I reviewed my theorems with music blaring out of my radio. I got off to a creaky start solving the problems but slowly got back into the flow. Numbers fired my imagination. I always imagined them like stars scattered across an imaginary sky as I performed operations on them in my head. I was so absorbed in my books that I did not notice the bedroom door opening. Suddenly, I was aware of a movement. I turned around and found Kamel standing there.
“I’m so happy to see you studying again,” he smiled.
“I’m not exactly studying. I’m just going over a few problems for fun.”
“All the Gaafars are talented. By the way, I have been making inquiries about you doing the baccalaureate from home.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The Ministry of Education has instituted a system whereby you can sit for the baccalaureate from home. We can bring tutors for you, and then you can sit the examination.”
“But I’m afraid I’ll fail,” I said without thinking.
Kamel sat down next to me and put his arms around me.
“You will pass, God willing. I’ll bring the form you have to fill in on Saturday.”
I was overcome with a sense of gratitude. Kamel leaned over and kissed me on the forehead before leaving the room, shutting the door gently behind him.
I thought about what he had said. I could not go back to the Sunniya School. I would not be able to bear the looks of pity or schadenfreude from the girls and the teachers. But nor could I bear the nightmare of being a new student in a different school. There was also the possibility that a state school would n
ot admit me at all. I had heard that the Ministry of Education had tried to ban married or divorced girls from going to school. The only option was what Kamel had suggested. I would have to cover the whole syllabus at home, but the thought made me feel suddenly invigorated. I threw myself back into the problems until the dawn call to prayer sounded.
The next day, I woke up at noon. I took a shower and rushed to the kitchen to help my mother, but she insisted that I have breakfast first. She made me a plate of fava beans mashed with olive oil and lemon juice, which I took to the dining room and ate hungrily. I heard the doorbell, and after a little while, my mother appeared, looking worried. She walked over to me and whispered uneasily, “Saleha, Abd el-Barr is here.”
I looked at her and said nothing.
“Abd el-Barr,” she repeated, “is in the sitting room and wants to see you.”
“I don’t want to see his face.”
“Saleha, the man has come all the way over here.”
“Have you changed your mind, Mother?”
“Oh, Saleha, I haven’t changed anything, but the man is in our home. Courtesy dictates that you see him. You will have to deal with him before it’s all over. If you refuse to see him, he could start making things difficult.”
I realized that by law I was still the wife of Abd el-Barr. It was in my best interests not to upset him further until he had agreed to a divorce. I asked my mother to make some tea and wait with him until I got dressed. I put on the white dress and combed my hair, leaving two locks dangling over my forehead. I put on some red lipstick and a bit of powder. I was astonished at what I was doing. If I could not stand Abd el-Barr, why was I making myself look nice for him? Maybe it was to let him understand what he was losing or perhaps to let him see that his absence was having no effect on me.
When I went into the sitting room, I found my mother sitting across from Abd el-Barr, who was wearing a gray suit and a white open-necked shirt. He jumped up and smiled as he greeted me. “How nice to see you, Saleha.”
The Automobile Club of Egypt Page 40