Selected Detective
CHIEF INSPECTOR ABDUL IBN-HASANI

“You're a dreamer, Khalifa! It always has been and will continue to be so! Lousy dreamer!” Chief Inspector Abdul ibn-hasani smashed his fist against the table, stood up and approached the window of his study, angrily throwing a glance at the first pillar of the Luxor Temple, the crowded place of tourists who were looking at the monument of Ramses II and listening to the explanation of the guide.

With broad shoulders and a large body, thick eyebrows, a tall and flat nose, he is well known for his grumpy nature and arrogance. The first trait manifested, as is happening now, in a high tone of voice, a red face and a small blood vessel protruding under his right eye. While the second manifested in his various petty favorites, one of them was a beautifully cut false hair perched on his bald head like a tangled collection of Nile grass.

The thud on the table had slightly shifted the position of the fake hair, and, while pretending to scratch his forehead, he fixed the location carefully back to its original position, slightly tilted slightly to the left, he was looking at it, which is seen through his reflection on the mirror hanging on the wall.

“Truly dumb!” snapped. “I mean, for God's sake Man, it was already twenty years ago.”

“Fifteen years.”

“Fifteen, twenty what does it mean? Too bad to worry back. That's core. You spend too much time with your mind stuck in the past. You should have been looking for new air for a moment.” He turned to face Khalifa, looking at her sharply, an expression not quite as successful as someone trying to get serious with a small animal squashed and perched on his head.

In another situation Khalifa must have struggled to hold back her laughter.Today, she barely noticed the fake hair, as it was so focused on what she was saying.

“But, Sir...”

“Times!” Hasani snapped, advanced forward and steadied his posture, arms folded, standing under the frame of President Hosni Mubarak's photo, a figure he always raised when he was about to give his lectures.

“That's where we work, Khalifa. Here and now. There are many crimes committed every day, every hour of every day. And that's what we have to deal with with with concentration, not something that happened ten, or more, years ago. Something that was already solved back then, I must add that!” His brows fused for a moment, as if he was not quite sure that his last sentence was reasonable.it passed so quickly and, while widening his chest, spread out, he poked Khalifa who was sitting in a low chair in front of his desk.

“This has always been your problem. When I have said it once, it means I say it a hundred times the inability to focus on the present. Too much time to look around at the museum, and it always is. This Tutankhamun, the Antenaben..”.

“Akhenaten,” Khalifa correcting.

“Well, you are so again! Who cares whatever the name. The past is over and done, is irrelevant anymore.Today, that's more important!” Khalifa's fascination with the past has always been the subject of disagreement between these two men; it's one thing, and the other reality, is, that Khalifa was one of the few police officers in the police force who refused to be intimidated by hasani.Why the Chief had such a disrespect for history, is rather strange indeed, indeed, it was never known to Khalifa although he suspected it was because hasani had no knowledge of her and therefore it would always be unfavorable for him if the conversation started to turn in that direction. Whatever the case, there will always be something that hasani raises whenever he wants to bully Khalifa, as if detective work and an interest in her wealth legacy are nothing short of proud.

“Will they be happy!” hasani yells, “People pimps, thieves and fraudsters. Wouldn't they be so happy if we spent all our time just toying with the case that was completed fifteen years ago, while they calmly and peacefully continued their activities, being touts, being touts, stealing and..” He paused for a moment, looking for the right word. “cheating!” Finally he shouted. “oh, yes, won't they be happy! We'll just be laughed at!” The blood vessels on the side of his eyes were throbbing even firmer than before, fat green veins creeping under the surface of his skin. Khalifa pulled out her cigarette, leaned forward, lit it and stared at the floor.

“maybe there has been an injustice,” he said slowly, smoking his cigarette, absorbing the nicotine in it.

“Uncertain, but of course very possible. And whether it was the case fifteen years ago or thirty years ago, I think we are responsible for investigating it!”

“But, what proof have you got?” shouted Hasani.

“What proof, man? I know you're not the one who let facts follow the conspiracy theory cycle, but I need more than just maybe."

“As I said, nothing is certain..”.

“Nothing at all, you mean!”

“There are some similarities.”

“There are similarities between my wife and a fucking water buffalo, but that doesn't mean she stays in her own poop pool while eating coconut leaves all day!”

“Too many similarities to be called just a coincidence,” continued Khalifa, lecturing her superiors, refusing to be defeated.

“Piet Jansen was involved in the murder of Hannah Schlegel. I know it. I know it!”

He could feel his own voice rising while gripping his own knee with one hand, smoking his cigarette deeply to calm himself.

“Begini,” he said while trying to keep his tone slow and measured. “Hannah Schlegel murdered in Karnak. Jansen lives next door to Karnak!”

“So do a thousand others!” hasani spray. “And five thousand people visit the place every day. Then what do you mean? they're all involved?” Khalifa ignored the question and emphasized again.

“Ankh symbol and rose-shaped decoration on the panel of Jansen sticks fit with the punch marks found on the face and skull of Schlegel. Both marks never really count properly.” Hassani flicked her hand no matter what.

“There are thousands of objects with such a design printed on its surface. Tens thousand. This argument is too weak, Khalifa. Too weak.” Again, this detective ignores the words of his superior and

proceeding.

“Schlegel is Israeli Jewish. Jansen hates Jews.”

“For God's sake, Khalifa. After what they did to Palestine, everyone in Egypt hates that damn Jew. What are we gonna do? bring in whole population for asking?” Khalifa still refused to be transferred.

“Guard in Karnak said he saw someone rushing out of the area with something strange on his head. ’Like cute little bird’ as he explains.

When I was at Jansen's house, I found a hat that fit the description hanging on the back of the barn door. Hat with feathers tacked on it.” Hassani exploded in a long laugh.

“This sounds weird and stupid. The guard, if my memory is correct, is half blind. He could barely see his own hand, let alone someone 50 meters away from him. You're really desperate, Khalifa. Or, even more so, the worse. Cute little bird? You don't understand what happened, man!” Khalifa made a final puff on her cigarette, pushed her body forward, and turned her cigarette off in the ashtray on the side of the table.

“There's one more thing!”

“Oh, please just say,” hasani said, clapping. “I haven't laughed like this in years.” Khalifa sat back.

“Yes, yes, I know!” hasani.

“And Tzfardeah, a Hebrew word meaning toad.” Hasani's eyes shrink.

“So?”

“Jansen has a genetic condition that makes him have a netted foot, like a toad.” He spoke quickly, trying to get the words out before his boss scoffed.surprisingly, Hasani said nothing, just walked to the window and stood up, looking far out, his back facing Khalifa, he said, the two hands on his side clenched as if he was holding a pair of invisible suitcases.

“I know that individually nothing means a lot of this,” Khalifa continued, trying to take advantage of the opportunities at hand. “But, when you receive everything, you have to stop and start thinking. Too much for a coincidence. And even if it all depended on the circumstances, there was still the matter of antiques on the lower floor of the man's house. Jansen is a thief. I know it. I can feel it. He needs to be investigated.” Hasani's fist tightened so that his fingers turned white.They were silent for a while, then he turned towards Khalifa.

“We will not waste any more time on this case,” he said slowly, deliberately, the controlled anger in his voice was more gripping than the bluff of any model. “You understand, the man is dead, and in any case he is involved, whatever he has done, it is past. There's nothing we can do for that.” Khalifa looked at Hasani full of astonishment.

“And muhammad Jamal? Innocent man could be falsely charged.”

“Jamal is dead too. We can't do anything!”

“His family is alive. We owe...!”

“Jamal found guilty in court. He openly admitted that he robbed the old woman.”

“That just doesn't mean he killed that woman. He always denied it.”

“He killed himself, for God's sake. Confession like what else do you want?” Hasani stepped forward a few steps.

“The man is guilty, Khalifa. Wrong is sin. He knows it and we know it too. We all know that! We all.” his eyes are wide open. There was something else in his eyes too.

A kind of despair, even fear. It was not something Khalifa had seen before. He lit another cigarette.

“I don't.”

“What? What did you say?”

“I don't think Jamal is guilty. I doubt it, I have doubted for a long time and it is getting stronger.it is possible that he robbed the woman, but Muhammad Jamal did not kill Hannah Schlegel. I knew it at the time, but I didn't have enough guts to say no.

I think deeply that we all know it .. you, me, Chief mahfudz..!”

Hasani stepped forward and smashed his fist into the edge of the table, thus flying a few strands of floor paper.

“Enough already, Khalifa! Enough, you hear?”

His whole body was trembling. Saliva gathers at the corner of his lips. “The psychological problem you are experiencing is your personal business, but I have a police station that I have to run, I have to run, and I'm not going to reopen the case fifteen years ago just because an idiot had a crisis of conscience. You have no proof, no one, to say that Muhammad Jamal did not kill Hannah Schlegel except in your mind, which from your words just now about the feathers and frogs will seem increasingly distant from stable conditions. I've always known that you're not made of good things, Khalifa, and this reinforces that even more. If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen. Go and be an archaeologist or whatever you want or want to do, and leave me to continue the work of catching criminals. Real criminals, not imaginary ones!” Forgetting that he was wearing fake hair, he reached over and scratched the top of his head, releasing a few strands of hair that were half down covering his forehead. With a grumble he took it all in and threw it, returned to his shirt and sat down, taking a deep breath.

“Forget it, Khalifa,” said. His voice suddenly sounded strange. “You understand what I'm saying? For the sake of everyone, Muhammad Jamal killed Hannah Schlegel, Jansen died in an accident, and there is no connection between the two. I won't reopen this case.” His eyes glared and then dropped back down, evading Khalifa's gaze.

“Now, there's a scene at Winter Palace that says that the jewelry was stolen. I need you to go over there and see this case. Forget Jansen and do the appropriate police work for once in your life!” He squeezed a stack of paper in front of him, his jaw tightening. Khalifa realized there was no point in continuing the debate. He stood up and walked towards the door.

“The key,” hasani said. “I don't want you to keep Jansen's house behind my knowledge.” Khalifa turned around, took the key of Jansen's house from her pocket and threw it at Hasani, who caught it with one hand.

“Don't step over me in this, Khalifa. Youunderstand? Not this one!”

The detective was silent, then opened the door and stepped into the corridor.

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