BAMAKO - Aribert Raphael (red queen ebook TXT) 📗

of hours.” He bowed to everyone, and was gone.
Mohammed and Johan got up, and they all marched out of the restaurant. They went to the elevators; two of them stood with their doors wide open. Four of them took one, Hjamal and Rasheed the other. They arrived together on the sixth floor and went to the apartment without a word. Talya led the way into the living room and everyone chose its individual seat.
Hjamal sat in one corner of the sofa, putting his briefcase between his legs and his elbows on his knees. He stared at the floor.
Johan sat in the other corner, putting an elbow on the armrest. He crossed his legs and seemed ready for anything anyone would care to throw at him.
Mohammed picked the chair across from Johan and Talya took the other, opposite Hjamal.
Mohammed’s face showed severity and determination. His eyes were roving from one person to the other. Apparently, he was analyzing their behaviour before the meeting began, probably much in the same way he would before a political reunion.
Hassan came to sit on the armrest of Talya’s chair. He, too, rested his gaze on everyone in turn, seemingly appraising the situation.
Rasheed brought a stool from the bar, which he placed between the sofa and Mohammed’s chair. He sat his back turned to the terrace door. He looked ill at ease as usual.
When Talya first saw him in Bamako, he reminded her of a snake, hiding underbrush. Today however, he couldn’t hide. Perched on his seat, he was well in evidence.
Once everyone was settled, Talya decided it was time to tackle the reason for their meeting head on.
“Monsieur Hjamal, I’ll come straight to the point. As I’ve stated yesterday, there is no doubt in my mind that you’ve had a part to play in the disappearance of my associates and in the murder of Richard Gillman. I don’t want lengthy explanations of any sort. I want straight answers to several questions.” Rasheed started fidgeting on his high chair. “As I said last night, I’m prepared to hear the truth. So I’m asking you again: do you know where Monsieur Savoi and Madame McLean are at this moment?”
“I’ll repeat what I told you yesterday: I frankly don’t know, Madame Kartz.” He shook his head. “Abdul told me Monsieur Savoi was in Dakar. I expected to see him in my office to discuss a possible business arrangement, but he never showed up. As for Madame McLean, all I know is that she was in town. I’ve never met her.”
Hjamal’s arrogance had abated slightly, but that didn’t mean his guard was down. Johan moved from the sofa and went to sit at the bar. Knowing him as Talya did, she thought he probably wanted to sit where he could watch the little gathering in action rather than taking part.
“And you, Monsieur Rasheed, what is your answer? Do you know where my associates are?”
He took his glasses off and wiped them with his handkerchief. “Me? How should I know, I only did what I was told,” directing his reply to Hjamal.
“That’s what I thought,” Talya said. “Tell me then, how come you came to Bamako, proffering menaces to Maitre Sangor and myself, and stating you’d seen both of my colleagues?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never threatened you or Maitre Sangor in any way. All I remember saying is that I met Monsieur Savoi and Madame McLean in Dakar. That’s all I’ve said.”
Hjamal’s attention was riveted on Rasheed. “Tell me, Abdul, you were gone several days last week and I learned that you’d used the plane. Where did you go?”
Rasheed was sweating profusely. He took his handkerchief out of his pocket again and dabbed his forehead. “As if you didn’t know. What’s the point in me telling you?” He was visibly frustrated at the pressuring questions.
“Because, I’m asking you. Where did you go?” Hjamal shouted.
“You know as well as I do I went to the mine site,” Rasheed said, expostulating.
Hjamal turned to Talya. “Let me tell you what I suspect happened.” He reclined against the back of the sofa, crossed his legs, and began with the story he wanted her to hear. “As you know I was in Vancouver weeks ago, asking for Carmine’s assistance in exploiting a mining site in Eastern Senegal. I hadn’t met James Flaubert until that time. He should have been aware of the relation that existed between Sabodala and me, although, he never said so when I met with him.” He looked at Talya fixedly. “But you know that, you were there. I never led on that I intended to claim ownership of Sabodala nor that I was in the process of founding Minorex.
“As for my relationship with Monsieur Savoi, I’d known about him for sometime. Charlatans have a reputation that precedes and follows them everywhere. So, when I came home I asked Abdul to get in touch with him to establish a common-accord between Minorex and Carmine through him. I had learned he had received money from Carmine and I became curious. But, you came on the scene.” He smiled.
Although she knew he was lying, suddenly Talya recalled their meeting in Vancouver vividly. The charm, the enticing attitude, the blatant egotism—it all came back.
“You scared Savoi out of his wits,” Hjamal went on. “When he arrived in Dakar, he phoned me. During our conversation, he revealed the money had been spent and he wanted to take refuge behind Minorex. He wanted me to say we had made a deal and invested Carmine’s funds into the mine and he was not to blame for the loss. How he could even think for one moment I would go for this scam, I don’t know. I may be many things, Madame Kartz, but gullible I’m not.” And how gullible do you think I am, Monsieur Hjamal? Talya said nothing. “In any case, I smelled a rat. I asked him to come to my office as soon as possible. He never showed up. So, I told Abdul to find him and to have him removed from circulation until I could contact you.”
“You see, you see,” Rasheed exploded, uttering the words with rage in his eyes, “you’ve said it. You wanted me to remove him. I did what I was told. I removed him all right—all the way to the mine. And I did the same with his stupid niece.”
In a flash and with superb agility, Mohammed rushed the fellow off his perch and slammed his fist into the clenched jaw. The stool went flying out through the opened terrace door, and before anyone realized what had happened, Rasheed was spread on the floor. Everyone was stunned. Hassan quickly pushed Mohammed away from his victim while Johan, who’d sprung off his stool, lifted Rasheed from the floor. Hassan took Mohammed away from the scene into the bedroom. Talya followed them. They sat the distraught man on the bed.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, abashed. “But you know what Rheza means to me. This monster had no right to lay a hand on her.”
“No one is going to blame you for punching this dog,” Hassan said soothingly. “Allah will look upon you with all the forgiveness and understanding you deserve. Don’t worry. We’ll make Rasheed pay for what he did.”
Talya said, “You stay here for now, Mohammed, and we’ll handle this. Trust me,” and walked out of the room.
Of all the feelings Talya had experienced in her life, the one of disgust was perhaps the most virulent, and right then she was thoroughly disgusted with Abdul Rasheed. He didn’t deserve pity he deserved punishment. He was a criminal—Talya was convinced of it.
In the living room, she found him sitting on the sofa glasses in hand, mopping his face with his handkerchief, looking dishevelled and deeply offended. Johan was standing over him ready to punch the man a second time if he tried to move.
“Madame Kartz, I’ll file charges—”
“You’ll do nothing of the kind, Monsieur Rasheed,” she cut-in angrily, “and I suggest you go into the other room until we can sort this out.”
Following Talya’s suggestion, Johan grabbed Savoi by the lapels of his wrinkled jacket and practically threw him in the second bedroom saying, “And don’t say a word, you fucking weasel, or I’ll shut your trap for good!”
“I’ll get you for this…!” Rasheed hollered in response to Johan’s deliberate insults.
Before Johan had time to lock the door of the room, Hjamal was on his feet and pushing past him. “Sorry, Johan, but let me have a word with him,” Hjamal said.
Johan shrugged and stood aside. Talya watched the scene. I wonder what he’s going to tell him. However, if Talya was hoping to understand a word of what was to be said between Hjamal and Rasheed, she was out of luck. Their entire heated exchange consisted of a string of expostulations in Malenke—the Senegalese dialect—which Talya could not interpret.
Once Hjamal had vent his anger, he came back to take his seat on the sofa. “I’m sorry, Madame Kartz—”
Johan then locked the door, put the key in his pocket and regained his seat at the bar.
“No, not at all, I’m the one who should apologize.” Talya said, shaking her head. “You see, Monsieur Fade is Madame McLean’s uncle. She’s a widow and he feels a responsibility toward her—”
“I understand, Madame, believe me, I do. And I hope that now you’ll believe me when I say I didn’t know where Monsieur Savoi and his niece were.”
Talya had regained her seat across from him. She couldn’t bring herself to give credence to the man she had wanted to trust ever since she first saw him in Vancouver, but now, more than ever, she wanted to listen to him. He had a story to tell.
Suddenly, Talya saw Mohammed come out of the bedroom. He still looked angry. He advanced into the living room hesitantly at first. Hassan grabbed him by the arm from behind and whispered something in his ear. Mohammed shook his head and took a few more steps to stand over Hjamal who looked at him defiantly.
“I apologize for my earlier behaviour toward your associate,” Mohammed began. “However, it’s obvious you are ultimately responsible for the abduction and for detaining two members of my family. And that, Monsieur, is an offence I will not set aside. Therefore, and once I’m back in Mali, I will file extradition papers against you and I’ll have you face the courts when ever the authorities will have done with you here. You can rest assured, Monsieur Hjamal; I will stop at nothing to have you brought to justice.”
Hjamal was astonished. He turned to Talya and got to his feet, briefcase in hand. He was ready to leave. Talya didn’t want him to go anywhere. They needed to talk—him and her. Although equally stunned, Talya thought something like this had to be expected. Mohammed was a strong believer in Islam’s justice, and he wouldn’t let this matter rest without taking some form of action against the man he thought responsible for unwarranted treatment of members of his family.
“Will you excuse me for a moment?”