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feel about Nuri?”
    “More or less.”
    Mahmoud thought this over. Then he said: “Of course it adds to it when they’re foreign. I sometimes feel quite pleased when something like this happens.”
    “A kidnapping?”
    “When a Moulin gets kidnapped.”
    “You’ve got to take action.”
    “Oh, I know that. And I do.” He suddenly cheered up. “Though not in the hottest part of the day. There’s no point in going back now. I’ll go back about four. He’ll be up from his siesta then.”
    “He?”
    “Mr. Colthorpe Hartley. He came out on the terrace later, remember. He may have seen something.”
     
    “Fellow with long moustaches and sticks?” said Mr. Colthorpe Hartley. “Yes, I saw him. Always sitting there. Same table, same time. Looking as if he’s growing there.”
    “You’re sure it was yesterday?”
    Mr. Colthorpe Hartley considered a moment.
    “Yes. Definitely. Saw him when I came out of the hotel. I was a bit behind the others, you know. Had a longer shower than usual. Bit damned hot just at the moment, isn’t it? You need a shower even when you’ve just been lying down.”
    “And you definitely saw him?”
    “Oh yes. Exchanged nods. Don’t know the chap, of course, but you sort of know him when you see him every day. We pass the time of day. I say something, he says something back. Nothing much. I don’t think he speaks much English. And I certainly don’t speak French.”
    “He didn’t say anything yesterday? I mean, nothing particular.”
    “No. Hardly noticed me. Seemed a bit preoccupied. Mind on other things. Didn’t stay there long.”
    “Did you see him go?”
    “Did I see him go? Let me think. No. I don’t think I saw him go. Saw he’d gone, but that’s not the same thing.”
    “Can you pinpoint when that was? About how long after you’d got to the terrace?”
    “Well, I must have got to the terrace about four. Saw him then. Nodded to him. Sat down. Had tea. Noticed he was a bit fidgety. Then when I next looked up he had gone. Say about twenty minutes. Between twenty past four and half past four.”
    “But you didn’t actually see him go?”
    “No.”
    “You didn’t see him go down the steps, for instance?”
    “No. Don’t think he would have gone down the steps. Not by himself. A bit too shaky on his pins.”
    “With someone helping him?”
    “Oh, he could have managed it then, all right.”
    “But you didn’t see anyone?”
    “Helping him? No.”
    Mr. Colthorpe Hartley rubbed his chin and stared thoughtfully into space. A suffragi hurried past with a tray of coffee. The aroma came strongly across the room.
    “Saw someone else, though,” he said suddenly. “One of those chaps. Or not one of those chaps, one of the others. He was speaking to the Frenchman. Then he went across to the railings. Spoke to someone. As if he was on an errand for the Frenchman. Buying something for him.”
    “Did he buy anything?”
    “No. Just came straight back.”
    “To the Frenchman?”
    “Yes.”
    “Spoke to him?”
    Mr. Colthorpe Hartley hesitated.
    “Think so. Stopped looking. Can’t go on watching a chap forever, you know. Bad form.”
    “So you looked away.”
    “Yes.”
    “And when you looked again, the Frenchman had gone?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Just one thing more, Mr. Colthorpe Hartley,” said Owen. “You spoke of seeing a suffragi. Or one of the others. One of the others?”
    “One of the other chaps from the hotel. The ones who go out with parties. Take you to the bazaar.”
    “A dragoman?”
    “That’s right. A dragoman.”
    “Would you be able to identify him if we paraded the hotel dragomans before you?”
    “These chaps all look alike to me,” said Mr. Colthorpe Hartley.
     
    Mahmoud established with Reception the name of Monsieur Moulin’s
petite amie
and sent a note up asking if she could see him. Madame Chévènement replied that she was still indisposed but would make an effort to see him on the following morning at eleven