The Jokers - Albert Cossery [39]
“Virility,” said Heykal. “Poor Abdel Halim was only so sure he’d lost his because he was wasting it on an old woman with faded charms. His snobbery—his obsessive desire to be the lover of a famous singer—overwhelmed everything else. It would have been unworthy of his fortune to sleep with some unknown young woman who nobody talked about but who would have satisfied his desire. People would call him cheap. He just wanted to impress his fellow citizens.”
“That’s entirely correct,” said Riad. “But that’s not all. Would you believe what they found on the wall above the urinal? A poster with a picture of the governor and a text extolling his virtues! Strange coincidence, don’t you think?”
“What exactly are you saying? That the portrait of the governor was responsible for the heart attack?”
“Indubitably. Abdel Halim was, by several accounts, drunk. The governor’s face looking down on him while he urinated—reminding him, you could say, of their bone of contention...What a terrible shock!”
“Interesting theory,” admitted Heykal.
“And it’s a crime! You could justifiably claim that the governor killed him. Indirectly, of course, but still—doesn’t change the fact that it happened that way. So what do you think of that?”
Once again Riad batted his eyes; he was like a novice hooker who has but a single trick with which to launch her career. He wanted Heykal to know that he too possessed a critical mind, that he could savor the humor of the situation just as much as Heykal. But his plan fell flat. His companion was uninterested.
“Nothing to say?” Riad was downcast. “I would’ve thought a story like that was made to please you.”
“It pleases me enormously,” said Heykal, in order not to disappoint the young man totally.
Riad smiled hopefully but without batting his eyes; it was useless. He launched into a violent diatribe against the governor, certain that Heykal would approve.
“The governor has launched a brazen ad campaign,” he said. “He must think we’re imbeciles. What I read on that poster was absolutely inane—stupefying. His abuse of power has gone too far, don’t you think?”
“My dear Riad, you’re much too young to be able to appreciate the man and his merits,” responded Heykal. “He’s an exceptional person; he knows what he’s doing. I admire him more and more with each day. Your naiveté pains me.”
Riad’s delicate, feminine features expressed infinite disappointment, as if he’d just been told of his own death. But it was worse: it was the collapse of a whole way of looking at things he had believed he shared with Heykal. He searched in vain for an appropriate reply to Heykal’s condescending allusion to his youth, but his thoughts were interrupted by the distant roar of an ambulance heading toward the casino. It got louder as it approached, piercing the air with its anguished wail. At the sound of this harbinger of disaster, the people around them froze in expectation. Riad, head swaying, looked Heykal up and down, and his smug expression returned, as if the noise of the siren had proved him right. But Heykal had turned back to the governor’s box; he was transfixed by the spectacle taking place there. The governor was standing on his chair, scanning the room with his big, bulging eyes in an attempt to locate the origin of the danger; he looked ready to crush a revolution. Then the siren stopped, and Soad let out a peal of laughter. She was looking at Heykal; their eyes met, and his smile was more mocking than ever.
9
THAT MORNING, looking out at the sea from high up on his sunny terrace, Karim had had an intuition that the day would be ripe with comical events. Now, giving them time