The Snake-Catcher’s Daughter

‘I don’t think they meant any harm, sir.’

‘Enough to knock you out for thirty-six hours? No harm?’

‘I think it was just that they didn’t want me to see anything.’

‘McPhee,’ said Garvin dangerously, ‘what was it exactly that you were doing?’

McPhee was silent.

‘You can tell us about it, old chap,’ said Owen, trying to be helpful. ‘We understand about such things.’

‘What things?’ said Garvin.

‘Bad women,’ prompted Owen gently.

‘Bad women?’ said Garvin incredulously.

‘Bad women?’ said McPhee, looking puzzled.

‘Sorry!’ said Owen. ‘It was just that I thought –’

‘Really, Owen!’ said McPhee in tones of disgust.

‘You’re obsessed, Owen,’ said Garvin. ‘Keep out of it. McPhee, what were you doing there?’

‘I was attending a Zzarr, sir,’ said McPhee bravely.

‘A Zzarr!’

‘In my own time. Off duty.’

‘I should bloody hope so,’ said Garvin.

‘What is a Zzarr?’ asked Owen.

‘A casting out of devils. From a woman.’

‘They’re held in secret,’ said McPhee. ‘You don’t come across them very often.’

‘Especially if you’re a man,’ said Garvin. ‘Did you say you were attending one?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘I thought no men were allowed?’

‘They’re not, sir. Usually.’

‘Then how did you come to be there?’

‘I – I invited myself, sir.’

‘Using your position as Deputy Commandant?’

‘Yes, sir. I’m afraid so, sir.’

‘Why?’

‘Just interest. Curiosity, sir. You see, sir, they happen so rarely. At least, one comes across them so rarely. Little is known about them. There’s nothing about them in Lane, for instance. So –’

‘You thought you would add to the world’s knowledge?’

‘Yes, sir. In a way.’

‘Deputy Commandant!’ said Garvin disgustedly. ‘Casting out devils!’

‘My interest was purely scientific, sir,’ said McPhee stiffly.

‘Oh yes. I dare say.’

McPhee’s enthusiasm for traditional Egyptian ceremonies and rituals, the deeper mysteries, as he called them, was well known.

‘Did it occur to you,’ asked Garvin bitterly, ‘that your presence there might become known? Would, in fact, certainly become known by just about everyone in Cairo? Blazoned abroad in every newspaper?’

‘No, sir,’ said McPhee, hanging his head.

‘Listen,’ said Garvin: ‘how many British officers are there in the police, all told?’

‘Two, sir. Not counting Owen.’

‘Just you and me. Controlling a city the size of Cairo. How do we do it?’

‘Well, sir,’ said McPhee, slightly puzzled, ‘we can call on our men. Good men, sir, fine chaps … the army …’

‘Bluff!’ said Garvin emphatically. ‘We run the country by bluff. If somebody called our bluff we wouldn’t last five minutes. We survive,’ said Garvin, ‘only by means of credibility. Credibility! How much bloody credibility do you think we’ll have left when it gets about that we spend our time casting out devils?’

‘It was off duty,’ said Owen.

‘Thank you, Owen. You’re quite right. I have to speak precisely when there are lawyers, of the barrack-room sort, around. That we spend our spare time casting out devils.’

‘It won’t happen again,’ said McPhee.

‘I’m not sure I can afford the chance of it happening again.’

‘No, sir,’ said McPhee. ‘I understand, sir.’

‘I can’t afford my Deputy Commandant behaving like a bloody fool,’ said Garvin. ‘I can’t even afford him looking like a bloody fool.’

‘No, sir.’