“Well, we’ll have to go with what we have. We’ve sent word to this Alexander. Assume he’ll be arriving in the next few days. By then, this will be all over the dailies.” He shook his head. “The paperwork will be unbearable.”
“Paperwork is part of the modern world. I’ll start looking in the morning. Have your people send me the forensics report. I’ll check back when—”
She stopped abruptly as someone rounded a corner, almost running into them. The young policeman. He held a cup, trying and failing to not spill its contents. His face registered surprise at seeing her, then relief at finding Aasim.
“Inspector! Your coffee?” He offered up a cup that looked half-full. Aasim accepted with a flat look.
“Agent Fatma,” the policeman greeted, more polite than before. “Looking for you as well. There’s someone to see you.” He turned. “She was following right behind. I hope I didn’t—ah, there she is now!”
Fatma looked to find another figure darting around the corner. A young woman, wearing a black coat and long dark skirts that swished as she moved. At seeing them, her face lit up from within a sky-blue hijab.
“Good evening,” she greeted, catching her breath. She took in Aasim before turning to Fatma. “Agent Fatma, I managed to catch you. Praise God!”
Fatma looked her over uncertainly. “I’m not sure we’ve met…?”
“Ah! Where’s my head?” The woman began fishing about in a tan leather bag slung over a shoulder. After an awkward while, she retrieved something quite unexpected. A silver badge bearing her likeness and the words EGYPTIAN MINISTRY OF ALCHEMY, ENCHANTMENTS, AND SUPERNATURAL ENTITIES.
“I’m Agent Hadia,” she said. “Your new partner.”
Fatma thought she could almost hear Aasim’s moustache twitch at the words.
CHAPTER FOUR
The boilerplate eunuch at the Abyssinian coffee shop set down two white porcelain cups before leaving in a whir of spinning gears. Fatma took her own, a strong floral Ethiopian blend, which was fast edging out the more traditional Turkish varieties in the city. She took a sip. Just right—one spoon of coffee, one of sugar, with just enough foam. The shop was more a café than a traditional ahwa, boasting modern amenities and a modern clientele. It also stayed open all night, and she came here often at the end of a shift to unwind.
At least, that was the usual routine.
Fatma rested her cup to sift through the papers in the folder in front of her. She’d shared an awkward and silent ride from Giza looking them over—at least three times. Either that, or be forced to actually have a conversation. Now, she spoke aloud as she read. “Hadia Abdel Hafez. Twenty-four years old. Born into a middle-class family in Alexandria. Studied comparative theological alchemy at university there. Graduated top of your class.” She paused, looking up. “Spent two years teaching at the Egyptian College for Girls in America?”
Hadia, who sat with hands wrapped around her cup of black mint tea, perked up beneath her coat—looking relieved to finally be talking. Fatma had almost forgotten what the Ministry’s uniforms for women looked like, since she’d long opted out of wearing one. There was also that sky-blue headscarf that so blatantly stood out. Patterned or colored hijabs were still frowned upon by more traditional or rural Egyptians, even here in Cairo. She obviously wanted it known she was a thoroughly modern woman. “I thought the queen’s mission might let me put my degree to good use,” she answered.
Fatma arched an eyebrow. “They’re not too fond of alchemy in America.”
“The mission is in New York—Harlem. Worked with immigrants in Brooklyn too—Roma, Sicilians, Jews. All people suspected of bringing in ‘foreign customs.’” She wrinkled a bold nose in distaste.
No need to explain. America’s anti-magic edicts were infamous. “Returned to Egypt and accepted into the Ministry Academy on your first attempt. Graduated in the 1912 class and was assigned to the Alexandria office. But now you’re here. In Cairo. As my … partner.” Fatma closed the folder, sliding it back across the table. “Not every day a new partner arrives, at a crime scene, carrying her résumé.”
Spots of color bloomed on Hadia’s beige cheeks, and her fingers fidgeted around the folder’s edges. “Director Amir intended we meet tomorrow. But I was already up late at the Ministry when I got word of the case. So I took a carriage over and decided to introduce myself. And maybe now, thinking about it, that wasn’t the best idea…”
Fatma let her trail into silence. The Ministry had been pushing for agents to take on partners. She’d managed to wriggle her way out of it. Everyone knew she worked alone. Amir certainly did. Likely he’d planned to spring this on her tomorrow, once everything was official.
“Agent Hadia.” The woman perked up, her dark brown eyes at attention. “I think there’s been some mistake. I didn’t request a partner. Nothing personal, I just work alone. I’m sure they can pair you with someone else. There’s an investigator in the Alexandria office—Agent Samia. One of the first women in the Ministry. I’ll put in a letter if you like.” There. She even managed a sympathetic face. No need to be cruel.
Hadia stared, mulling something before setting her tea down. “I was told you might not take to having a partner right away. I was given an assignment with Agent Samia on graduation. Turned it down. Told her I wanted to work with you.”
Fatma stopped mid-sip. “You turned down working with Agent Samia? To her face?” Agent Samia was one of the most imposing women she’d ever met. You just didn’t say no to her.
“She wished me God’s good fortune. And here I am.”
“But why work with me? I don’t have anywhere near Samia’s experience.”
Hadia looked incredulous. “Why work with the youngest agent to graduate from the academy—at twenty? Who was assigned to the Cairo office? Who made it to special investigator in just two years? Whose cases are now required reading at the academy?”
Fatma grunted. This was what notoriety got you.
“I thought
