The Forgiven by Lawrence Osborne Read Free Book Online Page A

speculating to dispel their unease.
    Richard came in finally, at half past one. He was flustered and his face was damp, and when he saw the body, he went cold and officious.
    “I want to know if we emptied his pockets thoroughly?”
    “It was illegal,” Hamid whispered, “but we did it anyway.”
    “There was nothing in them,” Dally snapped. “Which is not really possible. Where are the Hennigers?”
    “They’re at dinner. I think I calmed them down.”
    “Was he drunk?”
    “Not at all. I don’t know what happened.”
    “Not drunk now ,” Dally sneered. “He ran right over him. The kid wasn’t just hit. Am I right, Hamid?”
    They thought for a while. Richard stepped slowly around the table. The boy had cropped hair, dark bronze skin with blue tattoos. A high, perfect, aristocratic nose and wide, sensual lips. It was a tragic waste of an exquisite boy, he thought airily.
    Dally took his arm, going into a rapid English that would make their words private in front of the staff. He was visibly upset.
    “What are we going to do, Richard? You’ve called the flics . So now it’s going to be a circus.”
    “What would you suggest?”
    “I think we should get it settled tonight. We can pay them.”
    “Settled? They have to find out who he is first. When they find that out, it might change.”
    “Jesus, are you kidding?”
    “I don’t think we have anything to worry about. It’s clear what happened.”
    “Oh, is it? Is it clear that he has nothing on him? It’s like he’s beenrobbed. I don’t think anything is clear at all. I think that limey is hiding something. Any chance to fuck with us, and they will.”
    “They?” Richard opened his eyes wide.
    “The Moroccans. They will , too. They will fuck with us.”
    “He must have a family,” Richard said quietly, nodding at the body.
    “That’s what I mean. The family will show up—and then they’ll fuck with us. They’ll say the infidels killed their boy.”
    “They might, yes. Which would be true.”
    Then he added, “Dally, you really should calm down a bit. They’re not going to fuck with us.”
    Hamid looked at them intently, since he understood at least half of what they were saying, and his eyes seemed to pluck words out of the air and devour them. He understood that they were discussing fear of Moroccans. It was only natural. The rumors would spread like wildfire, and he wanted to touch them on the shoulder and tell them how little liked they were by the indigènes . Or rather, how little trusted they were. He was inclined to offer them some help, but he also enjoyed their sudden helplessness. It was interesting, to say the least. Truly, there was no line of people waiting at the gate of Patience.
    “What do you think, Hamid?”
    “I think, Monsieur, we should tell the staff to not tell anyone in Tafnet.”
    And he smiled, because it was impossible.
    “Yes,” Richard said dutifully. “Can you ask them?”
    Suddenly there were tears in Dally’s big brown eyes, and a cow look ruined his superbness.
    “How?” he moaned.
    The staff stirred, and they pulled out a chair for him. Richard asked them to close the doors to the garage and keep them shut. The guests’ cars were all parked in the open inside the ksour walls. It was childish, because of course they would find out, and it was not as if they would come storming down to the garage in a mob. It was more to calm Dally and help him retain his sanity.
    “Get us some drinks from the house, will you?” Richard said to Hamid. “Two Scotches. We’ll take them outside.”
    The weather had been stifling lately. The Chergui was blowing, with its saline taste and its withering scorn. Living things scattered before it.
    They went outside to the gate, and the light of the stars cooled their minds by emptying them. The river echoed below, with its promise of cool, and gradually Dally stopped crying. “That poor fucking kid,” he kept saying, as if he wanted to pound something with his