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possible
    to jump from his building to hers, across the
    narrow alley that divided them. When he was
    48
    younger he would probably have tried
    it. Ali, his brother, would certainly have been up
    for the challenge. Ali, however, was dead and he
    himself now had responsibilities. It was a twenty-
    metre drop to the ground and with a wife and
    three young children he couldn't afford to take
    such risks. Or perhaps that was just an excuse.
    After all, he'd never liked heights.
    He added coffee and sugar to the boiling water,
    allowing it to bubble up to the rim of the flask
    before pouring it into a glass and going through
    into the front hall, a large gloomy space off which
    all the rooms in the flat opened. For six months
    now he'd been building a fountain here and the
    floor was an assault course of cement bags and
    tiles and lengths of plastic tubing. It was just a
    small fountain and the work should have taken
    only a couple of weeks. Something always came
    up to distract him, however, so that the weeks had
    dragged into months and it was still only half
    finished. There wasn't really room for it and his
    wife had complained bitterly about the mess and
    expense, but he'd always wanted a fountain and,
    anyway, it would bring a bit of colour to their
    otherwise drab flat. He squatted and poked at a
    pile of sand with his finger, thinking perhaps he'd
    have enough time to set a few tiles before going
    into the office. The phone rang.
    'It's for you,' said his wife sleepily as he entered
    the bedroom, 'Mohammed Sariya.'
    She handed him the receiver and slipped out of
    bed, lifting the baby from its cot and disappearing
    into the kitchen. His son came in and leaped onto
    the bed beside him, bouncing up and down.
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    'Bass, Ali!' he said, pushing the boy away. 'Stop
    it! Hello, Mohammed. It's early. What's going on?'
    The voice of his deputy echoed at the other end
    of the line. Khalifa held the phone with his right
    hand while using his left to fend off his son.
    'Where?' he asked.
    His deputy answered. He sounded excited.
    'You're there now?'
    Khalifa's son was laughing and trying to hit him
    with a pillow.
    'I told you to stop it, Ali. Sorry, what was that?
    OK, stay where you are. And don't let anyone go
    near it. I'll be right over.'
    He replaced the receiver and, seizing his son,
    turned him upside down, kissing each of his bare
    feet in turn. The boy roared with laughter.
    'Swing me, Dad,' he cried. 'Swing me round.'
    'I'll swing you round and out of the window,'
    said Khalifa. 'And then maybe you'll fly away and
    let me have a bit of peace.'
    He dropped the boy on the bed and went
    through into the kitchen where Zenab, his wife,
    was making more coffee, the baby suckling at her
    breast. From the living room came the sound of
    his daughter singing.
    'How is he this morning?' he asked, kissing his
    wife and tickling the baby's toes.
    'Hungry,' she smiled. 'Like his father always is.
    Do you want breakfast?'
    'No time,' said Khalifa. 'I've got to go over to
    the west bank.'
    'Without breakfast?'
    'Something's come up.'
    'What?'
    50
    He looked at the woman hanging washing on
    the roof opposite. 'A body,' he said. 'I probably
    won't be home for lunch.'
    He crossed the Nile on one of the brightly painted
    motor launches that plied back and forth between
    the two shores. Normally he would have taken the
    ferry, but he was in a hurry and so paid the extra
    and got a boat to himself. Just as they were pulling
    off an old man came hurrying up, a wooden box
    clutched under one arm. He grasped the rail of the
    boat and clambered aboard.
    'Good morning, Inspector,' he puffed, setting
    the box down at Khalifa's feet. 'Shoeshine?'
    Khalifa smiled. 'You never miss a trick, do you,
    Ibrahim?'
    The old man chuckled, revealing two rows of
    uneven gold teeth. 'A man has to eat. And a man
    has to have clean shoes, too. So we help each
    other.'
    'Go on, then. But be quick. I've got business on
    the other side and I don't want to hang