There’s no alternative but to go forward. Control yourself. Forget the look, the last look on Khalil’s face. Forget also the last cry uttered by a dying man, a murdered man. The return to the hotel was a terrifying experience. Just like confessing. Your careful planning, useless. You should have left the hotel long before the crime. Enough of this dithering. The beggar, still singing despite everything. He made his way through the crowd of onlookers. A policeman stopped him.

“What happened? I’m a resident here.” He saw Sawi, his face tear-stained and pale. “What happened, Sawi?”

Sawi burst into tears. “Mr. Khalil has been murdered!”

“Murdered!”

“He was found murdered in his bed. God’s curses on the killer.”

The lobby was crowded with policemen and detectives. In Khalil’s chair sat the senior officer, and on his right, in Karima’s chair, was another man. The senior officer was busy looking through some papers. One of the guests was sitting opposite the officer. The officer reminded him very much of his father. He felt suddenly weak at the thought but then noticed that the officer was a much younger man. How silly, he thought; everyone seems to look like my father. Should he wait or go straight to his room? He was just about to go upstairs when the man sitting in Karima’s chair said, “Please wait in the lounge.”

He walked into the lounge and sat with a group of hotel guests. “What happened?” he asked.

“Mr. Khalil was found murdered.”

“How?”

“Who knows? The police have asked us all to stay here for the investigation. They’ve searched everywhere.”

He heard subdued, choking sobs. There in the opposite corner of the lounge sat Karima. She was sitting between an old woman and an elderly-looking man. How could he have not noticed her when he entered? What should he do? After some hesitation he went over to her. “My profoundest sympathies, madam. You must be strong.”

She didn’t look up, but continued to sob. He went back to his corner, shaking his head as though in shock at the crime. Was it a mistake, what he just did? Could this old woman be the mother of the Alexandria sweetheart? What are the police thinking? Did they inquire about the resident in room thirteen? Was he already the subject of investigation? Do they understand criminals, as he understands loose women? He hated them all. Hated them to the point of killing!

“What now?” he asked the group.

“You’ve only been here a few minutes. We’ve been here since morning.”

“Have they questioned the other guests?”

“Yes, and they let them go. Our turn has not come yet. They also questioned the wife, her mother, and her uncle.”

“But I believe she wasn’t here.”