The Thief and the Dogs

Gripping his revolver hard, he pondered the chance that might now be at hand, to bear down on his enemy and achieve his long-awaited goal. And then death, a final resting place. "Ilish Sidra," he said aloud, heard only by the trees as they drank in the breeze, "and then Rauf Ilwan. Both in one night. After that let come what may."

Tense, impatient, he did not have long to wait for a figure to come hurrying in the dark from the direction of the café towards the tip of the woods.

When there was only a yard or two left between the man and the road Said leaped out, leveling his revolver.

"Stop!" he roared.

The man stopped as if hit by a bolt of electricity, and stared at Said speechless.

"Bayaza, I know where you were, what you've been doing, how much cash you're carrying."

The man's breath came forth in a hiss and his arm made a slight, hesitant movement, a twitch. "The money's for my children," he gasped.

Said slapped him hard across the face, making him blink. "You still don't recognize me, Bayaza, you dog!"

"Who are you? I know your voice, but I can't believe," Bayaza said, then cried out, "Said Mahran!"

"Don't move! The first move you make, you're dead."

"You kill me! Why? We've no reason to be enemies?"

"Well, here's one," muttered Said, stretching his hand to reach into the man's clothing, locating the heavy purse and ripping it loose.

"But that's my money. I'm not your enemy."

"Shut up. I've not got all I want yet."

"But we're old pals. That's something you should respect."

"If you want to live, tell me where Ilish Sidra is staying."

"I don't know," Bayaza replied emphatically. "No one knows."

Said slapped him again, harder than before, "I'll kill you if you don't tell me where he is," he shouted. "And you won't get your money back until I know you're telling the truth!"

"I don't know, I swear I don't know,"

Bayaza whispered.

"You liar!"

"I'll swear any oath you like!"

"You're telling me he's disappeared completely, dissolved like salt in water?"

"I really don't know. No one knows. He moved out right after your visit, afraid of what you might do. I'm telling the truth. He moved to Rod al-Farag."

"His address?"

"Wait, Said," he pleaded. "And after Shaban Husayn was killed he took his family away again. He didn't tell anyone where. He was scared, all right, and his wife was, too. And no one knows anything more about them."

"Bayaza!"

"I swear I'm telling the truth!" Said hit him again and the man groaned with pain and fear: "Why are you beating me, Said? God damn Sidra wherever he may be; is he my brother or my father that I would die on his account?"

At last, and reluctantly, Said believed him and began to lose hope of ever finding his enemy.

If only he wasn't a hunted man, wanted for murder, he would bide his time, and wait patiently for the proper opportunity! But that misdirected shot of his had struck at the heart of his own most intense desire.

"You're being unfair to me," said Bayaza.

When Said did not reply, he went on: "And what about my money? I never harmed you." He held a hand to the side of his face where Said had struck him, "and you've no right to take my money.

We used to work together!"

"And you were always one of Sidra's buddies too."

"Yes, I was his friend and his partner, but that doesn't mean I'm your enemy. I had nothing to do with what he did to you."

The fight was over now and a retreat was the only course. "Well," Said told him, "I'm in need of some cash."

"Take what you like, then," said Bayaza.

Said was satisfied with ten pounds.

The other man left, dazed as if he scarcely believed his escape, and Said found himself alone again in the desert, the light from the moon brighter now and the whispering of the trees harsher. So Ilish Sidra has slipped out of his clutches, escaped his due punishment, rescued his own treacherous self, adding one to the number of scot-free traitors. Rauf, the only hope I have left is in you, that you won't make me lose my life in vain.

FOURTEEN

By the time Said had returned to the flat, dressed in his officer's uniform, and left, it was well after one o'clock. He turned towards Abbasiyya Street, avoiding the lights and forcing himself to walk very naturally, then took a taxi to Gala's bridge, passing an unpleasant number of policemen en route.

At the dock near the bridge he paid to hire a small rowboat for two hours and promptly set off in it south, towards Rauf Ilwan's house. It was a fine starry night, a cool breeze blowing, the quarter moon still visible in the clear sky above the trees along the river bank.

Excited, full of energy, Said felt ready to spring into vigorous action. Ilish Sidra's escape was not a defeat, not as long as punishment was about to descend on Rauf Ilwan. For Rauf, after all, personified the highest standard of treachery from which people like Ilish and Nabawiyya and all the other traitors on earth sought inspiration.