Pascali's Island

'Have you told anyone else?' he said. 'About finding the head, I mean.'

Fortunately I had anticipated this question. I had, in fact, learned from him. 'No,' I said, 'but I have left a written account of everything, from start to finish, in a sealed envelope, with forwarding instructions in the event of my disappearance or death.'

'I very much doubt it,' Mister Bowles said. 'Still… I'll give you a hundred. You are entitled to something, anyway.'

'A hundred and eighty,' I said, with relief – while bargaining one is safe. 'I won't take a piastre less.'

We argued for some time with that spurious intimacy, a kind of imitation friendship, which such negotiations induce. In the end I exacted a promise of one hundred and fifty liras, contingent of course on the deal with Mahmoud Pasha going through. I promised in my turn to act as intermediary with Izzet this evening, when he comes with the money. And so we parted, he to retire to his room, I to make my way back here.

One hundred and fifty liras! I can hardly believe it. I shall get some new clothes in Constantinople. A couple of silk shirts, a new suit. Then, suitably dressed, I can make my approaches to your officials. A new pair of spectacles too. My present ones do not suit my eyes, as I have explained, and besides the frame has been broken and repaired with wire, so they are unsightly in every sense. Once I have the money I can be on the next boat.

This report will be finished then, of course – my departure will bring it to a natural close. Mister Bowles too will be leaving, and the report has centred on him. This brings us to a very delicate juncture, Excellency. My whole situation has changed in the course of the last few hours, and our relationship, yours and mine, has changed with it. I have realised from the begi

I thought it didn't matter, you see. I thought my life was at an end. One final shape, as perfect as I could make it, wrought at the edge of the abyss, then my body toppling over. But everything is changed now, my life is opening up before me. Some small clerical post perhaps. My needs are few. The remaining years devoted to the collating and editing of my papers… You see how things are, Excellency, I ca

The smell of blood hangs over the island. On my way back I could smell it, thick and heavy in the midday heat. It seems to me that I can smell it still. Here and there blood-sodden patches on the roads. Below the market place a small group had gathered, among them children with round eyes. In their midst a sheep, mute, combed and dressed for death, horns gilded, fleece dyed red with he

I was waiting for death like that sheep, until today. Red morocco and gilt lettering. Dedicated of course to you, Excellency.

He did not come. He was not in his room, either. Izzet and I were there punctually at seven, but no Mister Bowles. Izzet had the money in a cloth bag, all ready to hand over. We sat there for ten minutes, making uneasy conversation. Then Mardosian approached us and handed me a sealed envelope. Nothing on the cover. Inside a note for me, very brief, without salutation. 'Unavoidably detained,' he said. 'The troops are still on the site. Tell them I refuse to negotiate until these troops are removed. Tell them it is a matter of principle.' Small neat writing. His signature at the end. I looked up dazed from this to meet Izzet's peering gaze. 'He can't come,' I said.

'Why not?'

'He doesn't say. He refuses to go on with the agreement until the soldiers are removed from the site.'

'Allah, Allah,' Izzet said, raising his hands. 'What difference can that make now? He has nothing more to do on the site.'

'He says it is a matter of principle.'

'Principle?' Izzet rose abruptly. His face was bitter with rage. 'Shaitan take his principles,' he said. 'And him, and you. He is playing games with us.'

'I will see him,' I said. 'I will arrange another meeting.'

'I advise you to be quick, arkadeshim. The Vali is not a patient man. It is on your head now.'

'Yes,' I said. 'I will see to it.' With anguish I watched him walk away, carrying my freedom in his bag. What can have happened? What bee has entered Mister Bowles's head? He did not seem to mind so much about the soldiers this morning. He made no conditions then.

All my hopes, Excellency. I can write no more tonight, my misery is too great. I must see Mister Bowles.

He did not return to his hotel last night, or if so, it was very late. I waited, but he did not return. This morning, however, I have seen him. And I still ca

It was by the merest chance that I was led to him. I knew he had not been back to the hotel. I was walking through the market when I saw three men at a fruit stall, men I had not seen before. I always pause to observe strangers, it is ingrained habit with me.

I took them at first for Greeks, but there was something different about the way they carried themselves, and about their gestures. Besides this, one of them, while deeply ta

After hesitating a moment I followed the man in the blue jacket, not too close; but keeping him well in sight. He walked down Saliras Street, almost to the end of it, then turned quickly into the little bar there, called the Agoraki. I had some idea of walking in after him, but fortunately stopped outside and looked through the window, standing against the wall at an angle that made it difficult for me to be seen. I did not see anything of the man I had followed except one of his blue sleeves and a brown hand on the table. But opposite him, full in my view, was Mister Bowles. He was talking, and I could imagine the pauses, the eloquent blurts. Excellency, he was not at the hotel last night, but he was fresh and clean-shaven. He looked like a man that had slept, and breakfasted. I saw him raise his head and laugh.