The Camel of Destruction by Michael Pearce Page A

wealthy, Europeanized Pasha. But Owen had lately begun to think seriously of marriage and was wondering now how Zeinab’s tastes squared with his income.
    ‘Stunning!’ he said, as she showed him the handbag she had just bought; though he was thinking less of the handbag itself than of its price.
    ‘Nice, isn’t it? Of course, it won’t do for everyday wear. Nor for special occasions. But I’m keeping my eyes open.’ The restaurant was already full, so full that a latecomer, a Greek, like the majority of the clients, had to have a table brought for him.
    ‘Ah well,’ said the newcomer, as the
patron
tried to squeeze him in, ‘at least you’re in the right business. You know what they say: serve food to Greeks and you’ll never be short of customers.’
    ‘The trouble is,’ said the
patron
, calling for the waiter to give the table a perfunctory wipe, ‘the customers are short of money.’
    ‘You too?’ said the Greek, picking up the menu. ‘You know, that’s just what I’m finding.’
    ‘Everyone’s finding it. There just isn’t the money about. An apéritif?’
    ‘Why not? Better not have anything after that, though. They count every millieme these days.’
    The
patron
poured him a glass of sweet Greek wine and took one himself.
    ‘Work for the Government?’
    ‘If only I did!’
    The
patron
laughed.
    ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘they never seem short of money, do they? I get quite a few of them in here, you know. From the Ministries. It’s a good steady trade. It’s that that keeps me going, really. Of course, there aren’t many of them in today, it being Friday.’
    ‘As a matter of fact,’ said the Greek, ‘I was hoping to meet one of them. A Mr. Fingari. He told me he often came here.’
    The
patron
looked round. ‘Not here today,’ he said.
    ‘You know him?’
    ‘Been here quite often lately.’
    ‘He was going to introduce me to some of his friends.’
    ‘He’s often here with friends. But I don’t think any of them are here today.’
    ‘You’d recognize them, would you? Look, I’ve got a job over here and I’ll be popping in most days for a bit. Perhaps you could point them out to me if you see them?’
    ‘Sure,’ said the
patron
, making way for the waiter.
    ‘Satisfied?’ asked Zeinab.
    ‘It’ll do,’ said Owen.
     
    ‘He’s claimed for lunch every day this week,’ said Nikos indignantly.
    ‘That’s all right.’
    ‘I hope it is all right,’ said Nikos. ‘We’re running out of money under that heading.’
    ‘Journal transfer some in from another account.’
    ‘Are you crazy? We’d have to ask Finance for permission first. And that would direct their attention to it. Is that what you want? Overspent the hospitality allocation?’
    ‘Perhaps you’d better put it under some other heading.’
    Nikos threw down his pen in exasperation.
    ‘You can’t do that! There are rules in this business, you know. They put you in prison for something like that.’
    ‘It’s only a little—’
    ‘It’s the principle. That’s the whole point. You’ve got to stick to principles. The same principles. Everyone!’
    ‘Surely no one would notice—’
    Nikos breathed heavily.
    ‘They have a whole Section which devotes itself to noticing. It’s called Audit.’
    He turned back to his papers and thrust out a hand. ‘Receipts!’ he commanded.
    The man standing in front of his desk put his hand in his pocket and fished out a crumpled piece of paper.
    ‘I’ve got discipline,’ he said.
    He was a Greek, the one, in fact, who had come to the restaurant late and talked to the
patron
. His name was Georgiades and he was one of Owen’s agents.
    ‘You!’ said Nikos witheringly. ‘You’re the one who’s led him into it.’
    Owen was roused to protest. ‘I’m just trying to do my job,’ he said. ‘All this stuff gets in the way.’
    ‘You’re the people who introduced it,’ Nikos pointed out. One of the first things Cromer had done when he was appointed