City of the Lost. Will Adams

…?’ asked Zehra.

      A grimace, a little flicker of the eyes. ‘When you asked your question a moment ago, it reminded me of something, that’s all. Of someone. A man. He came to one of our rallies. To two of them, actually, though we only spoke once.’

      ‘Where?’

      ‘In Famagusta. Both times in Famagusta. You know the Eastern Mediterranean University? In a lecture hall there. That was one reason he stood out. He was much older than the other students. Not that there were so many of them, mind you. What with the bombs starting to go off, and people thinking we had something to do with them.’

      ‘This man,’ prompted Zehra.

      ‘Yes. He stood to one side and watched. Very still, very quiet, very intense. He spooked me a little, if I’m honest.’ He nodded towards his front door to indicate the two policemen outside, the power structure they represented. ‘I assumed he was one of them, there to take names, scare people off, find things to use against us. But nothing came of it so I forgot about him. Until he showed up at our next Famagusta rally too. This was maybe three or four weeks ago. There’d been another bomb by then, the worst until yesterday’s, so that even fewer people were there, for all that we denounced the bombings furiously at every opportunity we got. Anyway, he came to talk to me afterwards.’

      ‘And?’

      ‘He asked me the same question you did. And he asked me to give him my word too. That’s what made me think of him. I told him what I told you: that we were men of peace who deplored the use of violence; and, moreover, that our involvement in a bombing campaign wouldn’t merely be vile, it would be stupid too, because he could see for himself how people were turning against our cause. He didn’t seem surprised. It was more like it was confirmation of bad news, like a second opinion of cancer. I asked him what was going on. I told him that if he knew anything he had to go to the police. He said he knew nothing, he simply wanted to make sure he could trust us before contributing. He asked me what we needed. I didn’t want him around the campaign, if I’m honest, so I told him we needed money. He promised to see what he could do. That’s all, I swear. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.’