The Burning Gates

by Parker Bilal

  ‘Think what you are saying.’

  ‘I have thought,’ said Makana. ‘This was all about the two of you and Na’il paid the price. And he’s not the only one. Indirectly, it caused the death of a woman. What happened about showing benevolence to others. Isn’t that written in the Quran?’

  Zafrani was quiet for a long time. Behind him the women carried on working, apparently oblivious to the conversation.

  ‘I don’t want any unpleasantness with my brother.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘What are you asking for your silence?’

  ‘Information.’ Makana struck a match. ‘The Iraqi Kadhim al-Samari. I need to know where he is. You have networks at your fingertips. You have people who work the streets, polit­icians, policemen, and you have those outside the law. If anyone can do it, you can.’

  Zayed Zafrani thought for a long time and then he nodded. ‘I will do this for you on one condition, that you never speak of this matter again. The trust between brothers is sacred.’

  ‘Like so many things,’ said Makana, ‘only when it suits our needs.’

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Light was fading as the three of them gathered on the upper deck of the awama. Sindbad picked up the telephone to order food. Cassidy leaned on the railings and smoked a cigar­ette. Makana joined him.

  ‘There’s no chance you have anything to drink around here, is there?’ Makana looked at him but said nothing. ‘I should have guessed,’ Cassidy sighed. ‘Okay, what happens now?’

  ‘Now we wait.’

  ‘That’s your plan?’

  ‘If Samari is in this country, Zayed Zafrani will find him.’

  ‘How do you know he’ll come through?’

  ‘It’s in his interest. He wants to buy my silence. It’s just a matter of time.’

  ‘Time is the one thing we don’t have a lot of.’

  ‘We have no choice.’

  ‘We’re giving Kane a chance to get ahead of us.’

  ‘If you have a better plan I’d be happy to hear it.’

  Cassidy grunted something unintelligible and turned to gaze moodily down at the river.

  Makana eased himself down into his big chair. He was in some pain. The thumping the bouncer had given him, along with general wear and tear, left him feeling battered and bruised. He seemed to have gone beyond normal fatigue and was floating through the world on a haze of cigarette smoke. His thoughts were with Bilquis. Why had Samari taken her and the boy? Revenge? He could have had her killed on the spot. Taking her with him suggested he had something else in mind. He could be planning to spend some time on her with his knife – not a thought that bore dwelling on. There was also the possibility that they were already dead and lying by the side of a road somewhere. Things were moving swiftly and Makana knew that Cassidy was right. They didn’t have time to spare. There was also Kane to consider. There was no telling what his next move might be. Another reason to find Samari fast.

  Somewhere upstream there was a party going on. Far enough away thankfully for the noise to be negligible. From time to time a purple streak would fly up into the night sky and burst into thousands of starry fragments that glowed for a moment or two before falling to earth, extinguishing themselves in the darkness.

  ‘They’re pretty aren’t they?’

  Makana turned to see Aziza standing beside him in the gloom. She put her elbows on the railing and gazed upwards at another rocket.

  ‘Did you solve the case yet?’

  ‘Not yet,’ said Makana.

  ‘But you will.’

  ‘You sound more sure of it than I am.’

  ‘You always do.’ She pushed herself away from the railing just as another gigantic fireball exploded into orange-and-green shards that floated dreamily down. ‘They’re pretty,’ she decided, with the kind of logic that makes a child so self-assured, ‘but they’re just a distraction.’

  As she disappeared Makana checked his telephone again. It wasn’t that he thought it might suddenly have stopped working so much as that he felt the need to do something. A boy on a noisy motorcycle turned up carrying bags full of fiteer, pancakes topped with cheese and meat and all manner of things. It was a mistake to let Sindbad order, he realised. He assumed everyone had the same gargantuan appetite as he did. Cassidy wandered over to take a look.

  ‘What is that, some kind of local pizza?’

  ‘Bizza? Yes, yes, bizza. Very good.’ Food was a universal language as far as Sindbad was concerned. He held up a box for the American to try one. ‘Bizza, Egyptian style.’

  Cassidy chewed and gave it his approval.

  ‘Not bad.’

  He sat down alongside Sindbad, who was delighted. Having endured Makana’s general indifference towards the business of sustenance, he was overjoyed to finally discover a kindred spirit. When his phone rang Makana got to his feet and stepped towards the railings, only to discover it was Sami.

  ‘Tell me you weren’t involved in that Wild West shoot-out this afternoon.’

  ‘Only as an observer.’

  ‘I knew it.’ Sami cursed under his breath. ‘You need to be careful who you trust.’

  ‘You found something?’

  ‘Your American friend, this man, Frank Cassidy. He was there also?’

  ‘Why do you ask?’ Makana glanced back to where Cassidy and Sindbad were cheerfully engaging in some kind of culinary exchange using sign language.

  ‘Someone claims to have seen him in a café near the Carlton. Did he shoot someone?’

  ‘He saved my life.’ Makana recalled the moment just before Cassidy shot Eddie Clearwater, when he had expected to be shot himself.

  ‘Well, he needs to stay low, the police have an alert out for him. I take it you have a plan?’

  ‘I think so.’ Makana paused. ‘We’re going after Samari, to get the girl back.’

  ‘Are you sure you that’s wise?’

  ‘Ask me that in twenty-four hours.’

  ‘I hope so. Take care, Makana. If there’s anything I can do to help . . . Oh, and by the way, Rania and I have decided to have a child.’

  ‘Well, that’s progress.’

  ‘I don’t know whether to laugh or cry,’ Sami said. ‘I’m not ready for this.’

  ‘You’re probably more ready than you think.’

  ‘Why am I taking advice from a solitary man who lives the life of a hermit?’

  Makana rang off and turned to face Cassidy, who was still chewing enthusiastically. ‘What is it?’

  ‘This may seem obvious, but do you happen to possess a gun by any chance?’

  ‘I don’t like guns,’ said Makana.

  ‘I’m not asking you to adopt one. I just think it might come in handy.’

  ‘I’ll take my chances. Carrying a gun is usually a good way of ensuring you get shot.’

  ‘You must have a different outlook here.’ Cassidy gave Makana a long stare. ‘Look, if it’s any consolation, if he’d wanted to kill her he would have done it straight away.’

  Makana studied Cassidy for a moment. ‘Tell me again about your son.’

  ‘My son?’ Cassidy stopped chewing.

  ‘The one in the picture. You said Kane murdered him?’

  ‘We’ve been over all of this. Virgil must have figured out what Kane was up to. Maybe he threatened to talk. Kane was already on thin ice after Afghanistan. If Virgil reported him for torture abuses that might be enough to put a dent in Kane’s plans.’

  ‘How close were you to your son?’

  ‘What can I say, he was my son.’ Cassidy wiped his mouth carefully with a paper napkin. ‘The truth is, after we got divorced he stayed with his mother. I didn’t see him that much. I had problems of my own, I guess. I was a homicide detective with a drink problem. What do you want me to tell you?’

  ‘Nothing. I was just curious.’

  ‘Look, my son is dead. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’m going to find Kane.’ Surprised, perhaps, by his own anger, Cassidy ran a
hand through his hair and stared at the floor for a moment.

  ‘We should try to get some rest,’ Makana said finally.

  They arranged themselves as best they could. Cassidy lay down on the divan and closed his eyes. Sindbad stretched out on a rug on the floor and was snoring instantly. Makana sat back in the big chair and smoked in silence. The night was unusually quiet. As the sounds drifted away and a cold breeze chopped at the river, Makana could hear the water slapping against the side of the awama. His eyes must have closed for a moment or two, because when his telephone began to vibrate in his hand he jerked awake in an instant. It was Zayed Zafrani.

  ‘I am told you must try looking east. The Sinai Peninsula.’

  ‘A little more detail would help.’

  ‘He has a villa along the coast from Sharm el-Sheikh, outside Santa Katerina.’

  Makana listened as Zafrani outlined directions, kicking a snoring Sindbad awake as he did so. Cassidy was already on his feet. Together the three of them made their way up the path to the road. The big eucalyptus tree swayed back and forth in the night air as if troubled.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  The Thunderbird rumbled contentedly over the smooth tarmac as Sindbad put his foot down and they raced along the open road leading east from Cairo. It still took a while to get out of the city. A minor accident blocked one carriageway. A huge lorry had collapsed on its side, spilling its load of sacks and barrels across the road. Then they were clear, driving through wide open landscape, surrounded by darkness. It was a relief to leave all of that behind. The only lights visible came from small towns in the distance, or cars that flashed by in the opposite direction. There wasn’t much traffic. Long-range taxis and lorries, the occasional bus.

  ‘What do you plan to do once we get there?’ Cassidy asked from the back.

  ‘I haven’t actually thought that far ahead.’

  ‘Great. What is this place we’re going to?’

  ‘Santa Katerina. It’s a monastery.’ Makana handed a map over. Cassidy produced a flashlight from his pocket. ‘There’s a small town nearby.’

  ‘How long to get there?’

  Makana estimated another six or seven hours at the rate they were moving, so long as they didn’t run into more traffic. He rolled down the window and let the cool night air in. There was nothing visible beyond the strip of the road. The world seemed to hover just out of reach of the headlights.

  ‘I have to say it’s kind of peaceful out here, once you get away from it all.’

  Makana wondered at the wisdom of bringing the American along. In part he felt he owed it to him for saving his life. On the other hand, Brigadier Yusuf Effendi would probably have a field day to know that he was in the company of a man wanted for shooting another American in broad daylight, that he was helping a fugitive and a murderer. In the back seat Cassidy folded his arms and closed his eyes as he sat back and tried to sleep. Makana looked out at the darkness ahead of them and wondered what he would do when he found Samari.

  After four hours they were running low on fuel. Sindbad pulled off the road beside a petrol station in the middle of nowhere. It was still early and they would have to wait for it to open, but it wasn’t worth the risk of driving on. There was no telling where the next fuel stop might be. Makana closed his eyes for a moment and the telephone in his pocket began vibrating. He got out of the car to answer the call.

  ‘Where are you?’ Okasha asked.

  ‘I’d rather not say.’

  ‘Don’t play games with me, I don’t have time for this.’

  ‘Any luck with tracking down Kane?’

  ‘No, our mysterious American friend has disappeared from the face of the earth, apart from a curious incident that happened yesterday afternoon and now has us on high alert.’

  ‘An incident?’ asked Makana.

  ‘Don’t try that with me. A car that sounds suspiciously like that museum piece you’re driving around was identified.’

  ‘Kane went after Samari.’

  ‘Downtown Cairo turned into Baghdad. Do you have any idea how much pressure there is to bring the culprits in?’

  ‘I can only imagine.’

  ‘That’s right. You’d better stand well clear of this when it goes down.’

  ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’

  ‘I’m serious. There are questions in parliament. They want people to hang. The American embassy has become involved. This is an international incident.’

  ‘As soon as I have something I can give you, I’ll call.’

  ‘You’d better, for your sake.’

  Makana hung up and stared at the distant hills. He turned as he heard Cassidy come up behind him.

  ‘Where did you learn to speak English anyway?’

  ‘I watch a lot of movies.’

  ‘I bet you do.’ There was a long pause, then Cassidy said, ‘You asked me about my boy.’

  ‘Virgil.’

  ‘At heart he was a good kid, but he got himself into a lot of trouble when he was growing up. Part of that was my fault, I guess. Too busy trying to put the world right, fighting my own demons. I had my problems and in the end, well, I guess that’s why people break up. That was hard on him. I read somewhere that divorced kids always blame themselves in some way. You ever married?’

  ‘A long time ago.’

  ‘Well, it sticks with you. Anyway, 9/11 had an effect on him. I mean, he started to straighten out, began to ask himself questions, about being an American, things like that. The way people live in other parts of the world. He wanted to do good. I think that’s why he signed up to go to Iraq.’

  ‘You mean he joined the army because he wanted to help the Iraqis?’ Makana was thinking that he would never really understand the Americans.

  ‘Sure, that and the family tradition. I was in the Marines and my old man was in Vietnam. My grandfather fought in France during World War Two. Still, surprised the hell out of me, I can tell you. I was proud of him. You won’t remember this, but right after 9/11 President Bush made a speech. He said this was not a war on Islam, that this was about helping people to free themselves of a tyrant, to bring them democracy. Well, I guess Virgil was young enough to believe some of that stuff.’

  Cassidy lit a Camel and offered one to Makana. ‘That’s why Kane killed him. Virgil was an idealist. He joined the army because he wanted to make the world right. It was only once he was in Iraq that he realised he’d joined up for all the wrong reasons.’ Cassidy paused to look out at the light spreading over the barren landscape. ‘He said his sergeant had told him not to think about all that negative stuff, how the fat cats in Washington were turning this war to their own profit, how they were getting rich on the blood of young men like himself and his buddies. The Iraqis didn’t seem to care for their help either. They threw stones and cursed them. War is an ugly thing, but a war without honour is worse than hell.’

  The air was cold. The sun seared its way out of the earth on the eastern horizon. There was something reassuringly ancient about the sight, a ritual that kept repeating itself over and over. Some days it seemed to Makana that they had forgotten the things that wise men once knew. Cassidy was still talking.

  ‘He only had a few months to go. I tried to encourage him to keep his head down and just get through it. All he had to do was come home and everything would be all right.’

  ‘But it didn’t work out like that.’

  ‘Kane murdered him, and for that he’s going to pay.’ Cassidy’s impatience spilled over and he kicked the dust and turned away. Makana watched him go, marching across the grey sand in a wide circle, trying to work off his frustration.

  Makana wasn’t sure how Cassidy would react when he came face to face with Kane, but he was glad to have the American along. He leaned against the side of the car and watched the light spreading on the eastern horizon. The prospect of going up against Samari was not one that he relished, but he couldn’t see that he had any choice in the matter. Bilquis didn’t know about the listening dev
ice in the telephone. She knew nothing about Kane and his men, which meant that she would deny everything. Samari would not believe her and in all probability would then set about torturing her, or her son.

  ‘Kane may be ahead of us up there,’ Cassidy said when he came back.

  Makana had the same feeling. He wasn’t sure how, but he had the feeling that Kane was always one step ahead of them. The audio bug in the telephone explained how he had learned of Samari’s visit to the tailor’s shop, but how many other tricks did Kane have up his sleeve?

  Off in the distance a faint light caught his eye. A fierce, insistent blink far back on the road.

  ‘Kane doesn’t give up. He’s come this far, he’s not going to stop now.’

  Makana tore his eyes away from the road to examine the American. Cassidy stepped closer.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I’m too emotionally involved. It’s affecting my judgement. Well, that’s bullshit. I’m a cop, just like you were.’

  The lights were red and blue and they were approaching at high speed from the west, the direction of Cairo. Makana went over to the Thunderbird and nudged Sindbad awake.

  ‘Find the attendant and wake him up. Get him to fill the tank.’

  Sindbad did as he was told. Three dark-blue armoured Land Rovers. They were heavy and slow, their windows protected by metal grilles. A big screen across the front windscreen was tilted back onto the roof to allow the driver to see where he was going. Makana watched them draw close and drive straight by. He shivered involuntarily at the cold and wished he was wearing more than the thin windcheater he had pulled on, although in a couple of hours he knew he would be too hot. The lights carried on into the distance. Makana was hoping they would keep going, but he saw them slow and come to a halt. Then they wheeled around and came back.