Respected Sir, Wedding Song, the Search by Naguib Mahfouz
“Give me a good reason why not.”
“I can’t.”
“Even if it has to do with your father?”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s meet today.”
“I can’t.” Even his father could not save him from the whirlpool of his fury.
“But it’s about your father. The object of your search.”
“So what?”
“Shall I come?”
“No,” he said impatiently. What news could she have? Anyway, what difference is it to him now? Zeitoun, that’s the objective. His father. That was probably a trick to get him to see her. He drank heavily. Cheap wine. Walking around trying to think of a plan to fool the watchful eyes.
I’ll go up to my room. But I shall not sleep. The detective will. At dawn, he crept slowly downstairs. A servant was sleeping in the lobby in front of the door, the locked door. He dared not wake the man up. He might be the detective. Slowly, he went back up the stairs. Suddenly an idea occurred to him. He raced up the stairs, all the way to the roof. A shiver ran through him as he passed the closed apartment. He crossed the roof to the wall of the adjoining building, and without hesitating for a second, jumped over to the building. Breathing heavily, he went down the stairs to the entrance. The doorman’s room was closed. The front door was closed. Damn! Nothing but obstacles. He tried the key that was in the lock. It didn’t work. Why? He tried the door handle. It worked. The door wasn’t locked. Why? He opened the door slowly, quietly. Suddenly a man blocked the now open doorway. “Who’s there?” a voice cried.
Without hesitation, he drove his fist violently into the man’s face and kicked him in the stomach as he doubled up. The man fell, silent, motionless. He rushed out into the cold empty dawn. Crossing the street quickly and racing toward the square. Without warning, he collided with something.
“Oh! Help! Please, please, I’m blind.”
“I’m sorry, it’s very dark,” he said as he hurried on. He shuddered. That cursed beggar. Ubiquitous.
The taxi drove toward Zeitoun. The detective is going to have a long wait. He got out of the cab at the beginning of Sahil Street. He walked toward the small bungalow. Daybreak was slowly filtering through the dark.
He knocked on the front door, not caring what lay ahead. Karima! There she was, just as she appeared on her first nocturnal visit. He pushed past her.
“Are you mad?”
They faced each other under a bare, glaring lamp.
“You must be insane.”
“Maybe.” He looked at her with his bloodshot eyes.
“Don’t you realize the consequences of your action?”
“It’s better than waiting without hope,” he hissed.
“You must wait. Don’t you see that my situation is far more critical than yours?”
“And how long must I wait? Till death? Why didn’t you phone?”
“Sawi would have recognized my voice.”
“Anyone could have spoken instead of you.”
“They asked me so many questions. I panicked.”
“You panicked? You who plot murders in bed while making love?”
“Don’t raise your voice. My mother’s asleep.”
“Isn’t she your accomplice?”
“You’re mad. You look so strange.”
“I must see your bedroom.”
“It’s just like any other room.”
“Don’t be funny, I must see who shares it with you.”
“Have you gone out of your mind?”
“Your cousin. Your previous husband. Isn’t he here?” he shouted.
“Who said so? No one is here. You’ve brought disaster upon us now by coming here.”
“I don’t care. I must see for myself.”
He pushed her roughly out of his way and opened the first door he saw. An old woman was fast asleep. Another door, another bedroom. Hers, most probably. He searched every room. No trace. “You’ve driven me crazy,” he cried, returning to the hall. “You must avoid him during the investigation.”
“Saber, I think someone is behind all this. Some cunning devil,” she said, trying to calm him down.
“Weren’t you married to your cousin?”
“I was.”
“And didn’t he sell you to the man you plotted to murder?”
“They’ll arrest us, you fool. Today.”
“Answer me.”
“You’re an idiot. I risked my life because I love you.”
“He came to sleep with you in this…whorehouse!”
“Can’t you see the truth? Have you forgotten what was between us?”
“Every woman is an accomplished actress in bed.”
“Please, please believe me. These are all lies!” She was almost hysterical.
“Do you think I’m afraid of hanging? I’ll never leave you to another man.”
“There is no other man. Believe me. If you don’t, they’ll get us before sunrise.”
“Whore! Liar! You destroyed my life with a lie.”
“Believe me, I beg you. I love you. All I’ve done is for your sake!”
“You destroyed me to enjoy the fruits of my crime with your lover.”
“You are my lover! Believe me before it’s too late. This man stepped out of my life years ago!”
“You divided things like only the devil can. I get the murder and you, the money.”
“Oh, what’s the use? We’re finished. Once more, won’t you believe me?”
“No.”
“Then what do you want?”
“To kill you.”
“And hang?” she screamed.
“I don’t give a damn anymore!”
Several footsteps, followed by thunderous banging on the door. Karima screamed loudly, “The police! It’s too late!”
He pounced on her savagely, blindly, his hands closing around her neck. Screams, the door banging, more screams, the door crashing open.
Seventeen
And where now, Saber? In jail, alone. No one visits you. You have no one. Elham is now a distant dream, a vision. She must have gotten over her love. She must be cursing it!
The newspapers carry the full story, Karima, Mr. Khalil, Mohamed Ragab, her first husband. Your photograph. The wedding photograph, even Elham, and of course, Basima Omran. The papers leave no stone unturned.
But in jail you are liberated from the vicissitudes of life, just as in the womb. Saber, arrested while murdering his mistress. Saber, there’s a story behind him. Basima Omran, queen of the Alexandria nightlife. She offered him in his poverty and despair an unknown father, a lost hope. The search for Sayed Sayed el-Reheimy. Love. Murder. Saber’s amorous adventures and conquests. Saber, the symbol of cruelty and corruption. They admired his love for Elham. How noble that was in the midst of a sordid story.
His mother afforded him a brief life of luxury; when that inevitably collapsed, he had to find a father or kill. The investigator suspected you from the first. You were constantly watched. Sawi spoke to you of Karima’s infidelity. That cunning old devil! What an idiot I’ve been!
Her first husband, Mohamed Ragab, denied any connection with the victim. It was the lover who fell in the trap. Was Ragab lying, or was he simply telling the truth? The papers don’t give any details of the part that resulted in your destruction. Will you find out the truth after death?
Mohamed el-Sawi, the doorman, spun his web of lies which ensnared you in the trap. The address you got out of him so effortlessly. The doorman of the building who almost caught you on your way to her. The detective recognized your voice as you apologized to the beggar when you bowled him over. Curse that beggar!
The papers splash your scandalous life just as they do your mother’s. A magazine made a study of your case. Learned men gave their opinions. Incompatible marriage between the old man and Karima. The prime cause of the murder. Poverty is the cause. Karima’s first husband sold her because of poverty. Karima is the martyr
of the class war. Saber’s upbringing in a den of sin. Saber’s Oedipus complex. In Karima he saw a mother substitute, and Khalil was a symbol of power, which he had to destroy.
He avenged the confiscation of his mother’s wealth. It’s a matter of a lost religious faith. If Saber had spent only a fraction of his efforts searching for God rather than searching for his father, none of this would have happened.
Saber shrugged his shoulders as he read all these comments. No one knows whether Karima was lying or telling the truth, or whether Reheimy existed or not, he told himself.
A lawyer called one day to see Saber. He thought he’d seen him somewhere before. But where and when, he could not remember. He felt comfortable in the lawyer’s presence. He was an elderly, distinguished-looking man.
“Are you the lawyer chosen by the court to defend me?”
“No.” Then, in a quiet voice, the lawyer said, “I am Mohamed el-Tantawi.”
Saber did not recognize the name. “Who gave you my case?”
“Consider me your friend.”
“But I have no money.”
The man smiled. “I’m Ihsan Tantawi’s elder brother. You know, the advertising manager of the Sphinx.”
“Oh! I see. I thought I had seen your face before.” Then sadly he asked, “Are you going to defend me?”
“Yes. If you’ll allow me.”
Suddenly Saber cried out, “Elham!”
The lawyer smiled but did not say anything.
“What about your fee?”
“Just the necessary expenses.”
Was it possible? Her love paying for his funeral!
“I’m afraid you’ll be wasting your time, sir.”
“The word ‘hopeless’ does not exist in our dictionary.”
“But I killed two people, premeditated murder, confessed.”
“And so…”
“And Elham. Why?”
“You don’t have relatives, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have a friend.”
“Even after I confessed?”
“She accepts that.”
He wiped at his tears. “The second tear in my life.”
“There’s nothing wrong with tears. Let’s get down to business.”
“I confessed everything.”
“There are circumstances.”
“What circumstances could possibly help me?”
“Your upbringing, love, jealousy, your feelings for Elham!”
“That’ll only give the newspapers more fodder.”
“We shall not give up.”
“It’s all like a strange dream. I came from Alexandria to look for my father, and then strange things happened which led me to forget my original purpose and finally drove me to jail.” He sighed and continued: “And now I have forgotten everything else and only remember my original intentions. Well, there’s not much use thinking about this now.”
“I might use it in the defense. I will say that this was the first crime. A crime that took place before you were born.”
“But now I remember something. Elham called me one day saying she had news about my father.”
“What did she say?”
“I didn’t see her. I was busy seeking revenge!”
“Well, I assure you, she knows nothing about him.”
Saber shook his head, bewildered and in despair. “The crime coverage in the papers, that is the best possible advertisement. Maybe it will bring some results.”
“I’m sure that any concern shown by your father now will make no difference whatsoever.”
“Maybe if he turns up some miracle will happen.”
“How?”
“If he really is important and influential.”
“He cannot change the law.”
“Listen, sir, my mother wielded influence once, and she was able to change the law right under the noses of the lawmakers!”
“Well, please explain to me how your father could possibly help you.”
Saber hesitated, then: “Escape maybe.”
“Your imagination is running away with you! Stop thinking about these possibilities; it’ll only bring on heartache.”
“Well, in any case, sir, I thank you, and I’ll be at your disposal in any way you wish. As for my wild hopes, well, sir, as you said, ‘hopeless’ is not a word in my dictionary!”
The judge pronounced sentence. Hanging. Saber followed the trial closely and expected his sentence. Nevertheless, he was stunned.
“We still have a chance to appeal,” said the lawyer.
“How is Elham?” asked Saber dejectedly.
“Not so well. The story in the papers, it seems, brought her father back from Assiut, and he insisted on taking her back with him, for a change of air.”
“So he crept out of his hole!” Saber cried out. “But my father…”
The lawyer smiled. “That reminds me. Would you believe that I have some news of your father?”
“No!”
“Yes.” The lawyer continued: “Did you ever hear of a newspaper commentator who used to sign his column ‘The Old Pressman’? Of course not; that was long before your time. He stopped writing twenty years ago. Well, he’s my neighbor in Heliopolis. He was also my teacher at the Faculty of Law. We were talking about your case, and I mentioned your father. He then cut me short and said, ‘Do you mean Sayed Sayed el-Reheimy? Well, I know him. The rich, handsome Reheimy. He was about twenty-five years old. That must have been over thirty years ago.”
“But didn’t your friend see the photograph in the paper?”
“He hasn’t picked up a paper in twenty years. And besides, he’s blind!”
“But the name, the description, the age.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“Where is he now?”
“I’m afraid he doesn’t know.”
“Did he tell you about my father’s first marriage?”
The lawyer smiled. “He told me that his only pleasure was love.”
“But my mother deserted him. Surely that’s something he wouldn’t forget.”
“In the life of a man like Reheimy, women change daily. You can’t distinguish between the deserter and the deserted.”
“My mother never spoke to me about this aspect of his life.”
“Maybe she didn’t know about it.”
“But you cannot hide marriage.”
“My friend, Aly Borhan, I mean ‘The Old Pressman,’ said that he married, very frequently, all sorts of women, old, young, rich, poor, widowed, married, divorced, even maidservants and prostitutes.”
“Amazing!”
“True.”
“But didn’t this pose problems?”
“Nothing stood in his way.”
Saber could not believe his ears. “What work did he do?”
“He was a millionaire. Love was his sole profession. Every time he was trapped, he just moved away somewhere else.”
“But my mother’s marriage certificate, I’ve still got it.”
“You’ll probably find countless others.”
“Was he never sued in court?”
“Who knows? He is divorced, that’s quite sufficient.”
“And what about the law?” said Saber sarcastically.
“He was never caught. Mr. Borhan said that once he had trouble with a virgin girl from a wealthy family. He left the country at the appropriate time.”
“When did he return?”
“He didn’t. The world became his playground. He could afford to pursue his hobby anywhere.”
“How did your friend know all this?”
“They used to correspond occasionally.”
“Does he have any idea where he might be now?”
“No. He never gave his address. And he never stayed too long in one place.”
“He must be well-known abroad.”
“Every millionaire is well-known. But he probably used different names. It’s more prudent in his line of work!”
“When did your friend receive
the last letter from him?”
“You know, my friend is over ninety now. He doesn’t remember things too clearly. All he remembers is that he received letters from every corner of the globe.”
“But he surely knows everything about his family.”
“He has none in Egypt. His father was an immigrant from India. My friend knew his father, and through him, his only son, Sayed. The father died forty years ago, leaving his fortune to his sole heir. He made his fortune in spirits. He has no heirs in Egypt except those that may have resulted from his amorous adventures.”
“Like me.”
“Yes, like you, if he is really your father.”
“I don’t doubt it, now that you’ve told me of his habits.”
The lawyer smiled and said nothing.
“Yes, his habits are my habits. But while he pursues them around the world, here I am in jail awaiting the hangman.”
“But he didn’t kill.”
“Your old blind friend doesn’t know everything,” said Saber bitterly.
“In any case, he is a millionaire.”
“What’s more important is that the law cannot touch him.”
“But you know that you are poor and subject to the law.”
“And I also know who my father was.”
“And to what avail?”
“Yes, unfortunately. My mother knew him better than your old friend. She made her fortune through him and was able to defy the law; she was unfortunate.”
“But he never knew misfortune.”
“It was impossible that I should have accepted work as a pimp after I discovered my true origin.”
“Unfortunately, you did not live up to your origin.”
“I looked for him.”
“And forgot about him. You said so yourself.”
“Because of a woman. He would understand that.”
“But he is not your judge.”
“But he is the one who deserted me.”
“He might have thought that you were as capable as he, and didn’t have any need of him.”
“Had my mother not deserted him, maybe.”
“But she did desert him.”
“It’s not my fault.”
“That’s true.”
“That was the real reason for the crime.”
“No. That’s too far-fetched.”
“But it’s a better reason than a chance meeting with someone like Karima.”
“I can’t.”
“Even if it has to do with your father?”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s meet today.”
“I can’t.” Even his father could not save him from the whirlpool of his fury.
“But it’s about your father. The object of your search.”
“So what?”
“Shall I come?”
“No,” he said impatiently. What news could she have? Anyway, what difference is it to him now? Zeitoun, that’s the objective. His father. That was probably a trick to get him to see her. He drank heavily. Cheap wine. Walking around trying to think of a plan to fool the watchful eyes.
I’ll go up to my room. But I shall not sleep. The detective will. At dawn, he crept slowly downstairs. A servant was sleeping in the lobby in front of the door, the locked door. He dared not wake the man up. He might be the detective. Slowly, he went back up the stairs. Suddenly an idea occurred to him. He raced up the stairs, all the way to the roof. A shiver ran through him as he passed the closed apartment. He crossed the roof to the wall of the adjoining building, and without hesitating for a second, jumped over to the building. Breathing heavily, he went down the stairs to the entrance. The doorman’s room was closed. The front door was closed. Damn! Nothing but obstacles. He tried the key that was in the lock. It didn’t work. Why? He tried the door handle. It worked. The door wasn’t locked. Why? He opened the door slowly, quietly. Suddenly a man blocked the now open doorway. “Who’s there?” a voice cried.
Without hesitation, he drove his fist violently into the man’s face and kicked him in the stomach as he doubled up. The man fell, silent, motionless. He rushed out into the cold empty dawn. Crossing the street quickly and racing toward the square. Without warning, he collided with something.
“Oh! Help! Please, please, I’m blind.”
“I’m sorry, it’s very dark,” he said as he hurried on. He shuddered. That cursed beggar. Ubiquitous.
The taxi drove toward Zeitoun. The detective is going to have a long wait. He got out of the cab at the beginning of Sahil Street. He walked toward the small bungalow. Daybreak was slowly filtering through the dark.
He knocked on the front door, not caring what lay ahead. Karima! There she was, just as she appeared on her first nocturnal visit. He pushed past her.
“Are you mad?”
They faced each other under a bare, glaring lamp.
“You must be insane.”
“Maybe.” He looked at her with his bloodshot eyes.
“Don’t you realize the consequences of your action?”
“It’s better than waiting without hope,” he hissed.
“You must wait. Don’t you see that my situation is far more critical than yours?”
“And how long must I wait? Till death? Why didn’t you phone?”
“Sawi would have recognized my voice.”
“Anyone could have spoken instead of you.”
“They asked me so many questions. I panicked.”
“You panicked? You who plot murders in bed while making love?”
“Don’t raise your voice. My mother’s asleep.”
“Isn’t she your accomplice?”
“You’re mad. You look so strange.”
“I must see your bedroom.”
“It’s just like any other room.”
“Don’t be funny, I must see who shares it with you.”
“Have you gone out of your mind?”
“Your cousin. Your previous husband. Isn’t he here?” he shouted.
“Who said so? No one is here. You’ve brought disaster upon us now by coming here.”
“I don’t care. I must see for myself.”
He pushed her roughly out of his way and opened the first door he saw. An old woman was fast asleep. Another door, another bedroom. Hers, most probably. He searched every room. No trace. “You’ve driven me crazy,” he cried, returning to the hall. “You must avoid him during the investigation.”
“Saber, I think someone is behind all this. Some cunning devil,” she said, trying to calm him down.
“Weren’t you married to your cousin?”
“I was.”
“And didn’t he sell you to the man you plotted to murder?”
“They’ll arrest us, you fool. Today.”
“Answer me.”
“You’re an idiot. I risked my life because I love you.”
“He came to sleep with you in this…whorehouse!”
“Can’t you see the truth? Have you forgotten what was between us?”
“Every woman is an accomplished actress in bed.”
“Please, please believe me. These are all lies!” She was almost hysterical.
“Do you think I’m afraid of hanging? I’ll never leave you to another man.”
“There is no other man. Believe me. If you don’t, they’ll get us before sunrise.”
“Whore! Liar! You destroyed my life with a lie.”
“Believe me, I beg you. I love you. All I’ve done is for your sake!”
“You destroyed me to enjoy the fruits of my crime with your lover.”
“You are my lover! Believe me before it’s too late. This man stepped out of my life years ago!”
“You divided things like only the devil can. I get the murder and you, the money.”
“Oh, what’s the use? We’re finished. Once more, won’t you believe me?”
“No.”
“Then what do you want?”
“To kill you.”
“And hang?” she screamed.
“I don’t give a damn anymore!”
Several footsteps, followed by thunderous banging on the door. Karima screamed loudly, “The police! It’s too late!”
He pounced on her savagely, blindly, his hands closing around her neck. Screams, the door banging, more screams, the door crashing open.
Seventeen
And where now, Saber? In jail, alone. No one visits you. You have no one. Elham is now a distant dream, a vision. She must have gotten over her love. She must be cursing it!
The newspapers carry the full story, Karima, Mr. Khalil, Mohamed Ragab, her first husband. Your photograph. The wedding photograph, even Elham, and of course, Basima Omran. The papers leave no stone unturned.
But in jail you are liberated from the vicissitudes of life, just as in the womb. Saber, arrested while murdering his mistress. Saber, there’s a story behind him. Basima Omran, queen of the Alexandria nightlife. She offered him in his poverty and despair an unknown father, a lost hope. The search for Sayed Sayed el-Reheimy. Love. Murder. Saber’s amorous adventures and conquests. Saber, the symbol of cruelty and corruption. They admired his love for Elham. How noble that was in the midst of a sordid story.
His mother afforded him a brief life of luxury; when that inevitably collapsed, he had to find a father or kill. The investigator suspected you from the first. You were constantly watched. Sawi spoke to you of Karima’s infidelity. That cunning old devil! What an idiot I’ve been!
Her first husband, Mohamed Ragab, denied any connection with the victim. It was the lover who fell in the trap. Was Ragab lying, or was he simply telling the truth? The papers don’t give any details of the part that resulted in your destruction. Will you find out the truth after death?
Mohamed el-Sawi, the doorman, spun his web of lies which ensnared you in the trap. The address you got out of him so effortlessly. The doorman of the building who almost caught you on your way to her. The detective recognized your voice as you apologized to the beggar when you bowled him over. Curse that beggar!
The papers splash your scandalous life just as they do your mother’s. A magazine made a study of your case. Learned men gave their opinions. Incompatible marriage between the old man and Karima. The prime cause of the murder. Poverty is the cause. Karima’s first husband sold her because of poverty. Karima is the martyr
He avenged the confiscation of his mother’s wealth. It’s a matter of a lost religious faith. If Saber had spent only a fraction of his efforts searching for God rather than searching for his father, none of this would have happened.
Saber shrugged his shoulders as he read all these comments. No one knows whether Karima was lying or telling the truth, or whether Reheimy existed or not, he told himself.
A lawyer called one day to see Saber. He thought he’d seen him somewhere before. But where and when, he could not remember. He felt comfortable in the lawyer’s presence. He was an elderly, distinguished-looking man.
“Are you the lawyer chosen by the court to defend me?”
“No.” Then, in a quiet voice, the lawyer said, “I am Mohamed el-Tantawi.”
Saber did not recognize the name. “Who gave you my case?”
“Consider me your friend.”
“But I have no money.”
The man smiled. “I’m Ihsan Tantawi’s elder brother. You know, the advertising manager of the Sphinx.”
“Oh! I see. I thought I had seen your face before.” Then sadly he asked, “Are you going to defend me?”
“Yes. If you’ll allow me.”
Suddenly Saber cried out, “Elham!”
The lawyer smiled but did not say anything.
“What about your fee?”
“Just the necessary expenses.”
Was it possible? Her love paying for his funeral!
“I’m afraid you’ll be wasting your time, sir.”
“The word ‘hopeless’ does not exist in our dictionary.”
“But I killed two people, premeditated murder, confessed.”
“And so…”
“And Elham. Why?”
“You don’t have relatives, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have a friend.”
“Even after I confessed?”
“She accepts that.”
He wiped at his tears. “The second tear in my life.”
“There’s nothing wrong with tears. Let’s get down to business.”
“I confessed everything.”
“There are circumstances.”
“What circumstances could possibly help me?”
“Your upbringing, love, jealousy, your feelings for Elham!”
“That’ll only give the newspapers more fodder.”
“We shall not give up.”
“It’s all like a strange dream. I came from Alexandria to look for my father, and then strange things happened which led me to forget my original purpose and finally drove me to jail.” He sighed and continued: “And now I have forgotten everything else and only remember my original intentions. Well, there’s not much use thinking about this now.”
“I might use it in the defense. I will say that this was the first crime. A crime that took place before you were born.”
“But now I remember something. Elham called me one day saying she had news about my father.”
“What did she say?”
“I didn’t see her. I was busy seeking revenge!”
“Well, I assure you, she knows nothing about him.”
Saber shook his head, bewildered and in despair. “The crime coverage in the papers, that is the best possible advertisement. Maybe it will bring some results.”
“I’m sure that any concern shown by your father now will make no difference whatsoever.”
“Maybe if he turns up some miracle will happen.”
“How?”
“If he really is important and influential.”
“He cannot change the law.”
“Listen, sir, my mother wielded influence once, and she was able to change the law right under the noses of the lawmakers!”
“Well, please explain to me how your father could possibly help you.”
Saber hesitated, then: “Escape maybe.”
“Your imagination is running away with you! Stop thinking about these possibilities; it’ll only bring on heartache.”
“Well, in any case, sir, I thank you, and I’ll be at your disposal in any way you wish. As for my wild hopes, well, sir, as you said, ‘hopeless’ is not a word in my dictionary!”
The judge pronounced sentence. Hanging. Saber followed the trial closely and expected his sentence. Nevertheless, he was stunned.
“We still have a chance to appeal,” said the lawyer.
“How is Elham?” asked Saber dejectedly.
“Not so well. The story in the papers, it seems, brought her father back from Assiut, and he insisted on taking her back with him, for a change of air.”
“So he crept out of his hole!” Saber cried out. “But my father…”
The lawyer smiled. “That reminds me. Would you believe that I have some news of your father?”
“No!”
“Yes.” The lawyer continued: “Did you ever hear of a newspaper commentator who used to sign his column ‘The Old Pressman’? Of course not; that was long before your time. He stopped writing twenty years ago. Well, he’s my neighbor in Heliopolis. He was also my teacher at the Faculty of Law. We were talking about your case, and I mentioned your father. He then cut me short and said, ‘Do you mean Sayed Sayed el-Reheimy? Well, I know him. The rich, handsome Reheimy. He was about twenty-five years old. That must have been over thirty years ago.”
“But didn’t your friend see the photograph in the paper?”
“He hasn’t picked up a paper in twenty years. And besides, he’s blind!”
“But the name, the description, the age.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“Where is he now?”
“I’m afraid he doesn’t know.”
“Did he tell you about my father’s first marriage?”
The lawyer smiled. “He told me that his only pleasure was love.”
“But my mother deserted him. Surely that’s something he wouldn’t forget.”
“In the life of a man like Reheimy, women change daily. You can’t distinguish between the deserter and the deserted.”
“My mother never spoke to me about this aspect of his life.”
“Maybe she didn’t know about it.”
“But you cannot hide marriage.”
“My friend, Aly Borhan, I mean ‘The Old Pressman,’ said that he married, very frequently, all sorts of women, old, young, rich, poor, widowed, married, divorced, even maidservants and prostitutes.”
“Amazing!”
“True.”
“But didn’t this pose problems?”
“Nothing stood in his way.”
Saber could not believe his ears. “What work did he do?”
“He was a millionaire. Love was his sole profession. Every time he was trapped, he just moved away somewhere else.”
“But my mother’s marriage certificate, I’ve still got it.”
“You’ll probably find countless others.”
“Was he never sued in court?”
“Who knows? He is divorced, that’s quite sufficient.”
“And what about the law?” said Saber sarcastically.
“He was never caught. Mr. Borhan said that once he had trouble with a virgin girl from a wealthy family. He left the country at the appropriate time.”
“When did he return?”
“He didn’t. The world became his playground. He could afford to pursue his hobby anywhere.”
“How did your friend know all this?”
“They used to correspond occasionally.”
“Does he have any idea where he might be now?”
“No. He never gave his address. And he never stayed too long in one place.”
“He must be well-known abroad.”
“Every millionaire is well-known. But he probably used different names. It’s more prudent in his line of work!”
“When did your friend receive
“You know, my friend is over ninety now. He doesn’t remember things too clearly. All he remembers is that he received letters from every corner of the globe.”
“But he surely knows everything about his family.”
“He has none in Egypt. His father was an immigrant from India. My friend knew his father, and through him, his only son, Sayed. The father died forty years ago, leaving his fortune to his sole heir. He made his fortune in spirits. He has no heirs in Egypt except those that may have resulted from his amorous adventures.”
“Like me.”
“Yes, like you, if he is really your father.”
“I don’t doubt it, now that you’ve told me of his habits.”
The lawyer smiled and said nothing.
“Yes, his habits are my habits. But while he pursues them around the world, here I am in jail awaiting the hangman.”
“But he didn’t kill.”
“Your old blind friend doesn’t know everything,” said Saber bitterly.
“In any case, he is a millionaire.”
“What’s more important is that the law cannot touch him.”
“But you know that you are poor and subject to the law.”
“And I also know who my father was.”
“And to what avail?”
“Yes, unfortunately. My mother knew him better than your old friend. She made her fortune through him and was able to defy the law; she was unfortunate.”
“But he never knew misfortune.”
“It was impossible that I should have accepted work as a pimp after I discovered my true origin.”
“Unfortunately, you did not live up to your origin.”
“I looked for him.”
“And forgot about him. You said so yourself.”
“Because of a woman. He would understand that.”
“But he is not your judge.”
“But he is the one who deserted me.”
“He might have thought that you were as capable as he, and didn’t have any need of him.”
“Had my mother not deserted him, maybe.”
“But she did desert him.”
“It’s not my fault.”
“That’s true.”
“That was the real reason for the crime.”
“No. That’s too far-fetched.”
“But it’s a better reason than a chance meeting with someone like Karima.”