“The Americans?” Hook shook his head. “Well, I’d never have thought that. Russians, perhaps, French, yes, maybe the Italians but never the Americans. Why the devil are the Americans getting mixed up with Egypt?”
“I only had an imperfect view, sir, but it was James Boyce without a doubt and a man he called Malloy.”
“I don’t know either of these names,” Hook tapped his fingers on the desk. “And I can hardly ask the US Consul for confirmation.” He sighed. “We have sufficient complications out here without adding more. And the other fellow was Albech Bey, you say?”
“Yes, sir. That was the name Boyce used.”
“Strange that Boyce should willingly volunteer that he knew Albech Bey. I have my eye on him. He is a Circassian, one of the Ottoman officers in Egypt, but he seems to have pinned his st
