BAMAKO - Aribert Raphael (red queen ebook TXT) 📗

you’re from Ethiopia?”
“Yes. My parents were fortunate enough to be able to send me away when I was a boy. I hope to return to my country some day soon, when I have saved enough money to buy them a nice house for when they get old.”
61
The clock on the control panel was showing 15:00. Hassan unbuckled his seat belt. He wanted to stretch his legs and get a drink from the cooler.
Samir stopped him. “Don’t tell me you want to miss the landing?”
“You mean it? We’re actually going to land?” Hassan could not believe it.
“Oh yes, we are. Your nightmare is nearly over. We had a tail wind since a little before Tambacounda and we’ll be on the tarmac in fifteen minutes.” Samir smiled at his friend. At last they were landing. Hassan buckled up, this time with some keenness in his movements.
“You’re serious? But I don’t see the strip yet.”
“You don’t have to see it, but it’s there just below these clouds. Let me show you.”
Matching action to words, Samir smoothly turned the aircraft to the left and started his descent through the cotton balls ahead of them. Samir put on his headset again and returned to his ‘pilot talk’ to the Dakar control tower.
Hassan was alert, yet apprehensive. Somehow, he believed Talya had not stayed in Sabodala—she was safe, and in Dakar. He tried to think were she would have gone after landing. Hjamal had invited her, probably to his home. Knowing Talya, she wouldn’t go there first, it would be throwing herself into the proverbial lion’s den, and she was too smart for that, unless she’d been forced to do it. The ambassador had reserved rooms at the Meridien. Yes, that’s where she must be … unless she’s still in Kedougou.
Samir looked at him—it was time to recall Hassan to attention. “Would you tell Monsieur Fade to buckle up, please?”
Hassan turned his head around and practically yelled at the top of his lungs, “Mohammed. If you are still of this world would you buckle up, we’ll be landing soon.”
Over the noise of the engine, Mohammed didn’t hear his friend call. He had fallen in a deep slumber from which he would only awake after touch down.

62
When they arrived at the Meridien Talya was in awe. Majestically dominating the tip of a promontory, the edifice itself could have been easily compared to a mosque. To the right of this magnificent sandstone structure, a golden cupola rested over a low building extension such as the arm of a giant holding a golden ball. To the left, and partly encircling the complex, the ocean’s expanse encroached on it with the fiery rage of crashing waves. A modest plaque, near the entrance told Talya this ‘guest house’ had been designed, built and donated by King Fahd of Saudi Arabia. The building had been erected originally for the purpose of hosting a symposium, which had taken place some years earlier.
The lobby wasn’t a ‘lobby’ per se. This circular reception hall rose to the full height of six marble columns. Daylight streamed through the huge dome above. From its moulded brass rim, ancient lamps descended to some three meters above the floor. The number ‘six’ has significance in Islam and it seemed to have played a major role in the design of the edifice. Six floors encircled the hall, hosting a total of three hundred and ninety six rooms. On each floor there were six corridors counting eleven rooms each, which is the numerical representation of Allah, or sixty-six rooms per floor.
A number of chairs and small antique escritoires were set against the columns. Multicoloured, intricately woven carpets partly covered the marble floor. An incredible sense of peace and respect enveloped her as Talya entered the place.
The front desk area stretched along two walls partially recessed under the floor above. Discreet spotlights set under the counter illuminated its elaborately carved wooden base. From the hall and beyond a large archway, Talya entered what is called an ‘atrium of life’. A young baobab stood massively at the centre of it. This ‘tree of life’, as it is referred to in the Koran, was surrounded by an impressive terrarium of exotic plants and flowers, and covered by a gigantic glass cupola. It was probably the one Talya observed when they came in.
There were a dozen leather-covered sofas placed at an angle around the terrarium. Standing over immense Persian rugs, a number of men were talking in soft voices. The spotlights casting their beams from the low ceiling encircling the cupola shone discreetly over the green and white marble floor, while avoiding the carpets. Talya would have taken her shoes off if she hadn’t been told this was a hotel and not a mosque.
She hadn’t accompanied Pierre and John to the registration desk. They had told her to wait for them in the atrium. They joined her a few minutes later, handing her the key to her ‘new home’, as John called it. They went up the lift and walked along a large corridor, on the sixth floor to the suite now assigned to her diminutive self—she felt very small indeed amid the grandeur surrounding her.
In an instant, the electronic key unlocked the door to her domain. The suite was in fact a large apartment. Talya’s mouth fell open when she passed the threshold.
“Wow!” Finally, she had found a word to interrupt her amazement and then a sentence came out, “Pierre, John, this is unbelievable. I can’t possibly accept to stay here. I don’t know what to say.”
“Would you prefer we drive you to the Terranga?” Pierre asked, snickering.
Talya smiled. “This is the most magnificent snare anyone has ever lured me into. I’m very much indebted to you both.”
“Never mind that,” John said. “Please, make yourself comfortable. We’ll go to our regular rooms and let you sleep or do what ever your heart desires for a few hours. We need to call our boss and advise him of these new developments. We’ll ring you later to see if you are free to have dinner in our humble company.”
“Of course, I’ll be free. I’ll make sure of it. In the meantime, I’ll follow your advice and rest for awhile. And again, thank you.”
They both walked to the door together, leaving Talya to admire the exquisite taste with which her new home had been decorated. Quite incredible! There were two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room and a dining room both opening onto an immense terrace dominating a swimming pool, an outdoor restaurant and the ocean beyond. This is too much, really. What am I supposed to do with all this space? Perhaps I should organize a tea party for the ambassador. The ambassador! Talya had completely forgotten about him.
She went to the one bathroom. Good gracious! A Jacuzzi! Talya stood agape in front of the sunk-in bathtub. Shaking her head, she opened the tap, lifted the lid of one of the jars lined-up on the bath-shelf, and poured some blue salts in the sparkling water. It had been weeks since she had luxuriated in one of those soapy clouds. As the blue water ran into the tub, she went on a tour of her kingdom.
Cream, thick carpets covered the entire suite. The bedrooms had nothing left to be desired, sumptuous and inviting beds in each of them. In one room, dark green flowery cushions emphasized the design of the bedspread and recalled the light green striped wallpaper colours. The second bedroom was a repeat of the same décor, this time in blue. There were lithographs on each wall—landscapes in the green room and seascapes in the blue one.
In the spacious living room, the white four-seat sofa and chairs were arranged about a long table. A black tree stump supported its glass-top, in the middle of which, a brightly-coloured flower arrangement broke the whiteness of the furniture. In the corner to the left of the entrance, there was a bar with four white padded stools standing opposite. A couple of spotlights shone on the series of glasses and decanters arranged on the built-in glass shelves behind it. Encased ceiling lights were casting patches of white and faint pink over the floor and furniture, the effect of which promised to be even more striking at night.
In the dining room, six black chairs around the lacquered table stood proudly in front of a matching sideboard over which the decorator had chosen to hang a vividly coloured abstract painting. There was an enormous crystal bowl of fruit in the centre of the table.
On the terrace, there were three chairs, a lounge chair and a glaze-topped table.
There were magazines on the coffee table, drinks of all kinds in the bar and colourful cushions strewn all about the place. And ... all those treacherous mirrors in the bathrooms—no disguise, make-up or a hair out of place would stand the scrutiny of their reflection.
Once undressed, Talya descended slowly into heaven; yes, ‘Heavenly’ was the word she would have used to describe the sensation. She read the latest Vogue and sipped on an ice-cold bissap juice, of which she found a big jug in the fridge below the bar. She had forgotten the purpose of her visit.
63
As soon as they landed, and they were taxiing toward the private airport, Samir and Hassan saw the Lear parked in front of the passengers’ lounge. Had there been a possibility for Hassan to jump out of the aircraft, and run after his quest, he would have done so. As for Mohammed: the wheels touching the ground had been enough to bring him out of the dream world. All three men lost no time. Once Samir’s plane arrived at the hangar, they alighted from the aircraft and unloaded their cases. Samir went to the tower to file his flight report while his passengers went through customs and waited impatiently by the exit door, where Samir joined them a few minutes later. They hailed a cab and directed the chauffeur to the Meridien.
Upon reaching their destination, Hassan didn’t take any time to admire the surroundings. He went immediately to the reception desk, Mohammed in tow. There, he was promptly informed that ‘no’, they had not registered a Madame Kartz as a hotel guest during the past two hours, but they still had a reservation in her name for the next day.
Upon hearing this, Hassan was on the verge of collapse. Mohammed didn’t know what else they could do. They both went to sit in the atrium near the baobab.
“What do you suggest we do now? Where is she?” Hassan asked.
“I don’t know. She may have gone to Hjamal’s place since he invited her.”
“No. She wouldn’t have done that, I’m sure she wouldn’t.”
“Maybe the pilots left her at the mine.”
“I’ll kill them. I swear to you. If this Hjamal touched her, I’ll kill him…”
“Hold on, Hassan, let’s wait for Samir and listen to what he has to say.”
The Touareg had remained by the desk. He had silently watched his two companions getting nowhere with the clerk. He let them go to the atrium alone. Then, when they were out of earshot, he turned to the receptionist. “Perhaps you could help me, Miss Katy…” He had read the nametag pinned on her dress.