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Mamur Zapt #13
A Cold Touch of Ice (A Mamur Zapt Mystery) by Michael Pearce (4-Jul-2011) Paperback
In this classic murder mystery from Michael Pearce’s award-winning series, set in the Egypt of the 1900s, the Mamur Zapt investigates the murder of an Italian man in the backstreets of Cairo. Cairo, 1908. When an Italian man is murdered in the city’s back streets, there is concern that this could be some kind of ethnic cleansing. Were the guns in his warehouse anything to do with it? Gareth Owen – the Mamur Zapt – has to find out fast.And then there are other difficult questions. What are Trudi von Ramsberg and Gertrude Bell really doing in Cairo? As the Mamur Zapt is drawn deeper into the investigation, he’s not the only one who has problems over where his allegiance lies…
Unknown Binding
First published January 1, 2000
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About the author
Michael Pearce
92 books52 followersMichael Pearce grew up in the (then) Anglo-Egyptian Sudan. He returned there later to teach, and retains a human rights interest in the area. He retired from his academic post to write full time.
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Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
February 13, 2020
Gun-running - a sideline job in Egypt just before the Great War. Owen, the Mamur Zapt, must protect British interests before the country is split in two.
You must be really special to get a death threat
A man pushed his way through the crowd and arrived at the bar beside Owen.
‘Wahid whisky-soda!’ he instructed the bartender. ‘No, make that a double. After all,’ he said, turning to the company, ‘it’s not every day that one gets a death threat in the mail.’
‘Yes, it is,’ objected the man on his other side. ‘I get one every morning.’
‘Ah, but that’s just from colleagues or from the Finance Department. Mine,’ said the man, pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket and waving it with a flourish, ‘is the Real Thing.’
‘Can I have a look?’ Owen stretched out his hand. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘it’s the same handwriting.’
‘Same as what?’
‘The one I got.’
Someone peered over his shoulder.
‘It’s just an ordinary bazaar letter-writer!’ he said disgustedly. ‘That doesn’t count!’
‘Just because you haven’t got one, Patterson!’
‘How many other people have had one?’ asked Owen.
Several other people put up their hands.
‘You see!’ said the first man. ‘It’s just people who are important. Sorry about that, Patterson!’
Some had their letters with them.
‘I was going to have mine framed, so that my grandchildren will see that once upon a time I was a man to be taken seriously.’
They passed them to Owen.
‘It’s all the same handwriting,’ said Owen.
‘You mean it’s only one man? Well, that is a relief. I thought it was everybody that wanted to kill us.’
‘It’s just some nut? Well, I do feel let down!’
‘Don’t worry prematurely,’ counselled Owen. ‘Perhaps he means it.’
A slower time - Egyptian Time . .
In Cairo at that time investigating a crime was not the responsibility of the police. Nor, most definitely—with the exception of political crime—was it the responsibility of the Mamur Zapt. When a crime was suspected, it was reported to the Department of Prosecutions of the Ministry of Justice, the Parquet, as it was known, and the Parquet would appoint one of its lawyers to conduct an investigation. Ordinarily the appointment would come first. Mahmoud being Mahmoud, however, he had seen a responsibility waiting to be taken and had been unable to resist taking it, with the result that by the time—the following afternoon—that he was actually appointed to the case, he had already been pursuing his inquiries for some hours.
Don't drink the Water
A water cart was coming along the Sharia ed Dakhaliyeh, presumably with drinking water for the Consulate. It was one of the modern ones which had recently been introduced, with a tanker-like top. You could hear the water swilling around inside in time with the gentle movement of the cart.
The driver stopped beneath the trees and wiped his face with a fold of his galabeah. He sat there for a moment looking round him. Then he climbed up on top of the tank and unscrewed the heavy cap. He bent down and splashed water up over his head and arms. Then he stood up, lifted his galabeah, and peed into the tank.
Soon after, Owen saw the water cart turn into the Consulate gardens.
. . . . .
Later in the Consulate, he found himself standing beside Miss Bell.
‘Could I have a drink, do you think?’ she said. ‘It’s very hot.’
Owen beckoned to a waiter.
‘No, thank you,’ she said, ‘not one of those. I think I’ve had enough already.
Could you bring me a glass of water, please?’ she said to the waiter.
‘As a matter of fact,’ said Owen hurriedly, ‘I’m not sure that, just at the moment, that would be a good idea.’
Friendship strains the ability to tell the truth as Owen - the Mamur Zapt finds out
Enjoy!
You must be really special to get a death threat
A man pushed his way through the crowd and arrived at the bar beside Owen.
‘Wahid whisky-soda!’ he instructed the bartender. ‘No, make that a double. After all,’ he said, turning to the company, ‘it’s not every day that one gets a death threat in the mail.’
‘Yes, it is,’ objected the man on his other side. ‘I get one every morning.’
‘Ah, but that’s just from colleagues or from the Finance Department. Mine,’ said the man, pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket and waving it with a flourish, ‘is the Real Thing.’
‘Can I have a look?’ Owen stretched out his hand. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘it’s the same handwriting.’
‘Same as what?’
‘The one I got.’
Someone peered over his shoulder.
‘It’s just an ordinary bazaar letter-writer!’ he said disgustedly. ‘That doesn’t count!’
‘Just because you haven’t got one, Patterson!’
‘How many other people have had one?’ asked Owen.
Several other people put up their hands.
‘You see!’ said the first man. ‘It’s just people who are important. Sorry about that, Patterson!’
Some had their letters with them.
‘I was going to have mine framed, so that my grandchildren will see that once upon a time I was a man to be taken seriously.’
They passed them to Owen.
‘It’s all the same handwriting,’ said Owen.
‘You mean it’s only one man? Well, that is a relief. I thought it was everybody that wanted to kill us.’
‘It’s just some nut? Well, I do feel let down!’
‘Don’t worry prematurely,’ counselled Owen. ‘Perhaps he means it.’
A slower time - Egyptian Time . .
In Cairo at that time investigating a crime was not the responsibility of the police. Nor, most definitely—with the exception of political crime—was it the responsibility of the Mamur Zapt. When a crime was suspected, it was reported to the Department of Prosecutions of the Ministry of Justice, the Parquet, as it was known, and the Parquet would appoint one of its lawyers to conduct an investigation. Ordinarily the appointment would come first. Mahmoud being Mahmoud, however, he had seen a responsibility waiting to be taken and had been unable to resist taking it, with the result that by the time—the following afternoon—that he was actually appointed to the case, he had already been pursuing his inquiries for some hours.
Don't drink the Water
A water cart was coming along the Sharia ed Dakhaliyeh, presumably with drinking water for the Consulate. It was one of the modern ones which had recently been introduced, with a tanker-like top. You could hear the water swilling around inside in time with the gentle movement of the cart.
The driver stopped beneath the trees and wiped his face with a fold of his galabeah. He sat there for a moment looking round him. Then he climbed up on top of the tank and unscrewed the heavy cap. He bent down and splashed water up over his head and arms. Then he stood up, lifted his galabeah, and peed into the tank.
Soon after, Owen saw the water cart turn into the Consulate gardens.
. . . . .
Later in the Consulate, he found himself standing beside Miss Bell.
‘Could I have a drink, do you think?’ she said. ‘It’s very hot.’
Owen beckoned to a waiter.
‘No, thank you,’ she said, ‘not one of those. I think I’ve had enough already.
Could you bring me a glass of water, please?’ she said to the waiter.
‘As a matter of fact,’ said Owen hurriedly, ‘I’m not sure that, just at the moment, that would be a good idea.’
Friendship strains the ability to tell the truth as Owen - the Mamur Zapt finds out
Enjoy!
November 13, 2011
Michael Pearce is an unqualified success, if you like good characterizations, an exotic locale and a satisfying mystery that illuminates real history from the early part of the twentieth century.
Gareth Owen is the head of the secret service in Egypt. He is called the Mamur Zapt. It is an interesting position, in that he works for the Khedive, the ruler of Egypt. But he is British, because at the time of the novel, 1912, Egypt is a British protectorate. The Brits are in no way about to allow Egyptian police free rein to poke about in private affairs. Owen is an interesting character, urbane, very focused on Cairo, and not much on things like the desert and rural Egypt. Well, he has enough to do, it seems, Cairo being a central gathering place for agents and counter-agents of every stripe.
It is 1912 and Lord Kitchener has come to Egypt to assume the ruling hand. There are many tensions in the air, because, although America was blissfully unaware , war clouds were gathering and already attempts are being made to implant a German nation inside the Egyptian government. The Turks are at war with the Italians, increasing the pressure and destabilizing the normal tensions of the place. Then an Italian businessman, a long-time resident of Cairo, is murdered. Normally such an event is not in the Mamur Zapt’s purvue, but he is naturally acquainted with the local government authorities. When it becomes likely that the fighting in Tripolitania is somehow related to the murder, Owen is drawn in. More complications arise of both a professional and personal nature.
There is a wedding, there are disagreements within and without Owen’s personal life and we are made privy to some eternal prejudices which affect Owen and his colleagues. Yet ther are no polemics here. The author’s matter-of-fact straightforward style draws us in and maintains the interest and the tension without resorting to devices like car chases and shootouts.
Pearce is a master at bringing to vibrant life in subtle and direct ways the life of turbulent Cairo from its high governmental maneuverings to common, everyday events. In the intense heat and dust of the city and the important camel caravan oases, Owen walks a slow steady path to motive and resolution. This is a fine police procedural with many excellent nuances.
November 19, 2013
Some series writers never seem to get their characters growing and changing or moving along in their lives. Pearce manages this with ease. In this novel the First World War is looming and old customs and relationships are threatened. As Cromer's Egypt is radically altered under Kitchener the poor old Mamur Zapt has to balance his role and keep out of Kitchener's way. Alas, Gareth cannot do this.
However this is Pearce writing so gloom and doom do not win the day. Pearce manages, with his usual skill, to turn the German problem and the death of Morelli, into an amusing but thought provoking tale. He also weaves in gun running, Germans trying to get hold of the local trains, and a wedding.
Anyone liking intelligent humour will enjoy all the Mamur Zapt books. Start at the beginning with 'The Mamur Zapt and the Return of the Carpet' an dwork your way through whenever you need something to read which will make you laugh.
February 5, 2020
A nice little mystery, set in pre WW1 Egypt which was still part of the Ottoman Empire although administered by the British. A good feel of time and place and the divided loyalties of both locals and expats.
March 4, 2023
If you like well-written mysteries in an exotic locale, these Mamur Zapt stories from Michael Pearce might be for you. I've enjoyed all of them I've read so far, and I'm looking forward to reading more in the series. Not world-changing or over-the-top, just solid characters in an interesting time and place.
January 28, 2020
Italy and Turkey are at war, and many Egyptians have become anti-Italian, indeed anti-European. Many in the British government have received threatening letters. An Italian ex-pat has been murdered, and guns are found in his warehouse. There is much for the Mamur Zapt and Mahmoud to investigate. As well, other changes are taking place, not least the appointment, as Counsel General, of Kitchener--a man not given to taking advice. In the years leading up to WWI, the jockeying amongst all those with interests in the African continent is intense, and the challenges for the Mamur Zapt ever growing.
September 30, 2012
In Egypt, during the year 1912, rising nationalistic fervor is making the work of Gareth Owen more complicated. Owen is the the Mamur Zapt, the British Chief of the secret police in Cairo. years ago the British stepped in to Egyptian affairs after a call for help from the Khedive who was the Egyptian ruler and who was concerned about the financial stability of the area. The British have settled in very nicely now, thank you very much and even though things are better they seem to have put down roots!
The current problems that heating up an already very warm climate are stemming from a war that has broken out between the Ottoman Empire and Italy over the territories now known as Libya. The Ottoman empire was the major controlling force in Egypt and the Cairenes favored their position and while there were many Italians living in Cairo anti italian feelings were growing. When an Italian man who had lived and worked in Egypt for decades was murdered Gareth Owen and his friend Mahmoud of the Egyptian law enforcement wanted to solve this murder quickly before the situation becomes more inflamed.
This story covers the time during when the famous Lord Kitchener becomes the British consul in Cairo, and when T. E. Lawrence, the archeologist is settling into the early part of his fame. The sights and scenes of Cairo, the heightened tensions of war times, gun running, spying, secret brotherhoods, all combine to make this an interesting exciting story.
The current problems that heating up an already very warm climate are stemming from a war that has broken out between the Ottoman Empire and Italy over the territories now known as Libya. The Ottoman empire was the major controlling force in Egypt and the Cairenes favored their position and while there were many Italians living in Cairo anti italian feelings were growing. When an Italian man who had lived and worked in Egypt for decades was murdered Gareth Owen and his friend Mahmoud of the Egyptian law enforcement wanted to solve this murder quickly before the situation becomes more inflamed.
This story covers the time during when the famous Lord Kitchener becomes the British consul in Cairo, and when T. E. Lawrence, the archeologist is settling into the early part of his fame. The sights and scenes of Cairo, the heightened tensions of war times, gun running, spying, secret brotherhoods, all combine to make this an interesting exciting story.
April 23, 2020
Nice mystery with cameos by Lawrence of Arabia and Gertrude Bell. Explores the emotionally charged situations created by imperialism, plus, camels
January 31, 2011
This story rambled a little more than the others I've read by this author. Still, it kept my interest as it included many historical elements that were handled both casually and accurately. It should appeal equally to the reader who is familiar with the period as well as one who is not.
June 11, 2019
Okay.
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews