“There’s no more talk of the murder in the papers. All news stopped suddenly.”

The old man was close to tears. “May God rest your soul, Mr. Khalil. I knew him for sixty years.”

“How old was he?”

“Over eighty.”

“When did he marry?”

“Ten years ago.”

“It’s a strange marriage, don’t you think?”

“He married when he was young. He had a child; then suddenly, tragically, he lost his family. He remained single for a long time until she came along. He loved her as a father would his daughter, above anything else.”

“That sounds reasonable, considering.”

“He was a good man, kind and generous. He helped me raise and educate my children.”

“How did he get married?”

“He used to travel frequently to Alexandria.”

“Alexandria! Is she from Alexandria?”

“No. He used to stay with a friend of his who lived in Tanta. She was married at that time.”

“Married?”

“Yes, to her cousin, a good-for-nothing. He met her at this friend’s.”

I am talking too much. “How did they get married?” Saber’s curiosity made him reckless in his questions.

“She got a divorce, and they were married.”

“She married a man over seventy?”

“Why not? He gave her honor and security.”

“And peace of mind,” Saber interjected heavily. He remembered his mother’s last words. “But a good-for-nothing, as you describe her ex-husband, wouldn’t divorce such a beautiful woman. Why did he divorce her?”

“Everything has its price.” The old man immediately regretted this remark.

Saber noticed and said quickly, “Anyway, those things are past.”

“I’ve said more than I should. Ever since I saw him lying in his blood, I’m not myself. May God forgive me.”

A pimp’s whore. A purchased slave. A coolheaded criminal, a vessel of unbelievable pleasures, your torturer to the end. Groundless intuition, nothing else, led you to this bloody hotel and flung you into crime, murder, blood. Just like the intuition that made you chase the car like a maniac.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Coffee and more coffee to alleviate the rigors of a sleepless night. He watched the telephone through a cloud of cigarette smoke. When will Karima ring? A heavy downpour lasted for a few minutes, leaving the streets soaked and muddy. Karima, silent as the dead, not realizing his agony. Heavy drinking, sleepless nights, nightmares. All this will leave traces on you, easily observed by watchful eyes. As for Karima, she doesn’t care. One of the residents approached his table and asked if he might share it with him. The lounge was very crowded. He must be the last of the residents who were here when it happened. Obviously he is seeking some juicy gossip.

“They’ve arrested the killer,” the man said.

“Yes, I know,” said Saber, hiding his fear and annoyance behind a smile.

“Aly Seriakous?”

“Yes.”

“Theft was the motive, I believe,” said the man, settling comfortably into his chair. “I was wrong.”

“What did you think?”