“That was very clever,” the bishop put in.
“It is my business to be clever!” said Jakoub, showing his teeth a little, as he looked round from one to the other of us, malignant and implacable.
I was at a loss as to how to continue the conversation. I felt as I have sometimes felt when trying to play chess for the entertainment of better players, uncertain even as to whose move it was next. It was therefore a great relief to me when Edmund spoke in a tone that suggested his intention of taking command of our side.
“You had better tell us,” he said, “why you have come here, and what it is that you want.”
“I have come for the money I am owed, I and Van Ermengen effendi. I have my papers, my account.”
He sought in the unfamiliar pockets of what tailors call a “lounge suit,” and produced a folded sheet of foolscap which Edmund took from him.
“We have already had all this by post from Van Ermengen,” Edmund remarked as he looked over the paper. “Why did he send you here?”
“Because you did not answer. You sent no money,” Jakoub answered doggedly.
“And suppose we send this money to Van Ermengen, how are you going to get your share from him? If we enable you to escape the police here, will you go back to Egypt? Don’t take me for a fool, Jakoub. It won’t help you.”
“You pay me my share here. I care no more for Van Ermengen.”