 Go on. And the Moezen rolled down the steps right at my feet. Before I could get anything out of him, somebody else in a Moezen's robe showed up. There is no other Moezen at the Minorette. You're right, Grego. He wasn't a Moezen. He wasn't an Egyptian. He had on German field boots and he carried a Luger. Jordan, what fantastic tale are you trying to make me believe? Now listen to me, Sam.