Egypt

The crude wooden door he took me to gave away nothing of the business inside. The sign of the arrow was drawn on it, big and crude. Someone had added a pair of gigantic balls to the symbol. Inside I could hear raucous laughter, and wild shrieks.

He knocked, according to a code. Someone was talking, cursing the interruption, and the door creaked open a fraction on its hinges-just enough for me to slam it wide and enter. Inside everything was squalid: naked young girls in opium drowses lay in desultory poses on couches or on the floor, and young men in groups shouted aggressively in triumph as they played euphoric games of senet, or traded jokes and insults. But as soon as the men saw me, they leapt to their feet, jeering provocatively, making threatening gestures with their knives, and pornographic ones with their fists and tongues, ululating as they approached. Behind them I saw a few small, long-necked jars of opium juice. These lads were the next step up from the boy I was with. All wore the arrow amulet on leather necklaces. All wore their hair braided in the same style. I held the dagger close to the boy’s throat. Suddenly he was angry and vicious, knowing he had been badly shamed, and fearing his life was worth even less than mine to his gang. A couple of the larger, more senior lads stepped forward, their ostentatious knives drawn.

‘Gentlemen, I know this visit is unannounced, but I want to speak to your glorious leader. About this…’

And I held up a papyrus bearing the sign of the black star. They stared at it. One grabbed it from my hand, his eyes glittering.

‘Where did you get this?’ he demanded.

‘From the mouth of a dead dealer,’ I said. ‘We both know what it’s about, and I’ve got information. But I’ll only talk to your leader.’

I was blindfolded, and made to wait on a low stool. I listened to the shouts and arguments, and the taunts that came my way. But none of the lads harmed me. Finally I was yanked to my feet, and we set off. Three of them pushed me roughly through passageways and side streets, accompanied by the boy. I could hear the business of the city going on in the distance, and I knew we had moved out of the slum, into a better area. Whenever anyone approached they were warned away. Eventually we arrived at our destination. I was ushered inside. The air was cool, and smelt clean, and I heard the sound of water, and splashing, and the giggling, seductive laughter of girls. The blindfold was removed.

I was in a bathhouse, in one of the private chambers set out with couches for resting. Before me stood a Nubian man, tall and slim. He gazed at me. His stony eyes were alert with intelligence. He wore many gold necklaces, and bangles. He cracked his neck dramatically, and sauntered over to assess me more closely, running his long, ostentatiously serrated gold dagger around me, as if I were a slave he might acquire or destroy.

‘Who brought this person uninvited into our place?’ he asked quietly.

The Nubian boy was terrified. He looked down. The man raised his chin, almost tenderly.

‘You made a mistake, Dedu. A bad mistake. You’ve betrayed us all. Do you understand that?’

The boy nodded slowly. His lower lip was trembling now.

‘Please…’ he whispered.

‘Please what?’ said the man.

‘Please, my lord. Don’t kill me.’

The man pondered, watching the boy.

‘Wait there,’ he said. ‘Think about your error.’

The boy nodded and bowed humbly. I didn’t have time to feel sorry for him.

Then the gang leader turned to me.

‘Normally, I only see Medjay officers by appointment, by night. Is this visit for business, or pleasure?’ he asked.

‘Something of both,’ I responded.

He chuckled, playing with his knife, executing complex little moves he’d honed for performance and intimidation.

‘You’ve got a lot of audacity coming in here like this. Now I have to decide whether to kill you or listen to you. I think I’ll listen to you, and then kill you afterwards. You’d better have a good story. Who knows? It might even prolong your life-for a while.’

He threw out the men who had brought me and the pretty young girls who lay about on the couches. Then, when they had all sauntered or scurried away, and only he, Dedu and two bodyguards remained, he offered me a low stool, with exaggerated politeness.

‘I’ll stand. I’ve come to discuss this.’

I held out the papyrus. He glanced at it, nonchalant.

‘So what?’

‘I found it in the mouth of my closest friend. His head had been separated from his body.’

‘Ah, your closest friend.’ He grunted with sarcastic sympathy. ‘Alas, death is everywhere. The God Seth, Lord of Chaos and Confusion, is surely walking the streets of this city once more. Now he does not even spare the fine law-enforcing officers of the Medjay. What are things coming to? And what is it you want from me?’

‘I’m sure you are also familiar with this symbol. It has been found in the mouths of others-dead young dealers who were, I’m sure, in your employment.’

‘And so?’

‘And so we have something in common,’ I said.

Suddenly his knife slammed into the wall, just a hair’s breadth from my face, near my eye, and juddered there. I stared at him, unmoved.

‘You and I have nothing in common. And I still don’t know why you are here. I think, and I can find no answer. You had better help me out, quickly,’ he said.

‘You, I assume, want to know who has been slaughtering your boys, and taking away your business.’

‘And what do you want?’ he asked.

‘I want to know who killed my friend. And I want to kill him.’

He nodded, delighted by this.

‘Ah, revenge, it is so beautiful,’ he said. ‘But my question is this: what can you do for me that I can’t do for myself?’

‘A deal. Mutual benefit. We share all our knowledge. I’m a Medjay detective. This gives me authority, and it grants me access to places you could never reach. However, you will back me up. You will tell me what you know about this new gang. We’ll combine intelligence. You provide the force, if and when the time comes. And then you can take your revenge. But the crucial clause is this: the killer of my friend is mine to do with as I choose.’

He put the tips of his fingers carefully together and smiled.

‘You think this is funny?’ I said. ‘You think I’m here to amuse myself?’

He nodded, as if somehow impressed by my reckless behaviour.

‘You are truly angry, my friend, and I admire your thirst for revenge. But perhaps you did not think carefully enough about coming here. Perhaps you didn’t think about respect.’

‘I thought carefully. You know who I am. You could easily kill me if you wanted. So why else would I take this kind of risk unless I was-sincere?’ I replied.

He chuckled at the word, repeating it to himself as if it were the punchline of a joke. Then he reached for a jug of wine, and poured us each a measure.

‘Sit down, my sincere friend,’ he said, in a warmer tone. ‘Let me tell you about myself.’

And so it was I ended up listening to one of the most notorious and ruthless bosses of the city’s cartels. I found him to be a hard, intelligent businessman, with an astute sense of theatre; his own grand style of violence he deemed a necessary part of business. It was an expression of power, and a demand for respect. Of course, he was prepared to use it whenever it suited him, which was often; but he was no psychopath. In fact, he saw himself as a benefactor, for the men under his control were young, and otherwise hopeless, and he believed he was shaping their lawlessness to more useful ends. The vast profits of his trade he saw as a reasonable redistribution of wealth. He was himself simply profiting like a businessman from a new market of consumers-the affluent young of Egypt, who could afford the luxury of opium, and then, when pleasure turned to addiction, who could maintain that, too. He had even devised a special deal; the first hit was free. Thereafter, they bought from him. He had no concern for their welfare; in the direct terms of his morality, that was their responsibility.