Birds of the Nile by N E. David Page A

particularly in the few days since he had been away from his base in Cairo, Blake had begun to forget what it was like to be at work. The prolonged absence was steadily etching away his memory. What on earth had he found to do all day in that drab and dreary office? How had he managed to fill his working hours? More especially, how would he have reacted to the current situation and what would he have done about it? Had he been inChancery he would probably have filed a report, but from his distant position in the Trade Section his only option would have been yet another memo to the First Secretary.
Certain political elements are active in the area south of Luxor…
And after expending considerable time and effort in setting out his views, he would no doubt have received the usual perfunctory reply.
Thank you for this valuable information which I have now passed on to the relevant area
. Then he would have heard nothing. What good had it ever done? Although in the mundane atmosphere of the Embassy, it had always been enough to make life bearable.
    But as he kept reminding himself, he was no longer a member of the Service so he could hardly write a memo now. And as he’d quickly discovered, it was a radically different proposition to be confronted with affairs in the field rather than viewing them from the safety of the Embassy. If he was to solve his conundrum over Reda, an alternative approach would be required. He needed more information, he needed to talk to someone, someone who knew what was going on, someone who had their finger on the pulse.
    A name immediately sprang to mind and he decided to give Carpenter a call. Carpenter – steady, reliable, British to the core and whose sole purpose in life seemed to be to gaze out of a window and watch the world go by.
    The ship’s phone sat on the bedside table in front of him. Blake wondered whether it was purely internal or whether it would have an outside line – and even if it did, he preferred not to risk being overheard. He took his mobile out of the drawer and turned it on, praying for a signal. Fortunately he was able to find an immediate connection, and after the inevitable round of buzzing and clicking, Carpenter’s languid tones came on the line.
    “Hello? Trade Section? Can I help you?”
    “Carpenter? Is that you? It’s Blake.”
    Even after just a few days away, it was a relief to hear afamiliar voice and to know his old world was still there.
    “Good Lord! Aren’t you supposed to be on holiday somewhere? I thought you’d be halfway up the Nile by now.”
    “I am.”
    “Good for you! I trust you’re having a good time, you lucky bugger. I have visions of you lounging on a sumptuous barge, propped up by acres of cushions and being fanned by a cohort of dusky maidens.”
    “Not quite – it’s just an ordinary cruise ship.”
    “Ah well, one can always live in hope. Anyway, how’s the bird-watching going? Seen any of those dickney whatsits you were telling me about?”
    “You mean Senegal Thick-knee. No, I haven’t – but the birding’s fine, thank you.” Actually it wasn’t, but he decided not to elaborate. “Look, something’s come up and I need to ask you a favour.”
    “Fire away, old boy. You know me, always happy to help.”
    Exactly, which was why Blake had decided to call.
    “I can’t go into the details right now, it’s a complicated story, but I need some background information on someone. Do we still have access to the Egyptian Police computer records?”
    “I think so – such as they are. Subject to the usual bribe, of course.”
    “Of course. But don’t worry about that, I’ll sort it out with you when I get back. So if I were to give you a name, do you think you could see what they’ve got?”
    “I don’t see why not. Anything for a friend.”
    “Thanks.”
    So far so good. Blake cleared his throat in preparation for what was to come next. He knew he was pushing it a bit but it was always worth a try.
    “And you