BAMAKO - Aribert Raphael (red queen ebook TXT) 📗

was going to transfer the whole village to the third hill and replace every hut, house, building and what ever else made up the village of Sabodala, with new and more comfortable housing, amenities for everyone, and then some.
As he put them through the paces of his dream, amazement replaced anger. Admiration replaced disgust and wilfulness to make it happen, replaced doubts and distrust. They went back to their seats.
“What you’ve just shown us, Monsieur Hjamal, is admirable. Do you realize if you had come clean when you were in Vancouver none of this would have happened?”
“I know that now, Monsieur Flaubert. I guess pride is a very bad guiding light when you take a trip into darkness.” I would have to remember that one.
“Now what about your second question, Madame Kartz, or do you have any more?”
“Just a couple; you asked Richard to come back to work for you, didn’t you?” The fisherman casting his net once, then twice….
“How, how on earth did you know that?” Hjamal looked at her, evidently shocked.
“I didn’t know it for a fact until just now. It was the only plausible explanation. Am I correct or not?”
“Yes, you are. In fact, when I left Vancouver and got no help from you,” Hjamal said, looking at James pointedly, “I went to Toronto and contacted Richard. Since he had been fired from his old job and he was looking for work, he accepted my proposition to come back as a consultant readily enough. I gave him a ticket and an advance there and then, expecting him to show up at the site a couple of weeks later, but the strange thing was that he never made the flight between Nouakchott and Dakar on the appointed day. He just showed up a month or so later and asked me if my offer still stood. I took him back because he was a good engineer—when he put his mind to it.”
Talya nodded. “If I am right, Richard used your ticket for something else. And the last question is this: when was he supposed to land in Dakar?”
“That I can tell you for sure—it was in December of last year.”
“Good. That coincides with the stamps in his passport. I mean, there is a stamp showing he landed in Nouakchott alright, but none showed him landing in Dakar.”
“So what did he do in the meantime? Where did he go? How did he live? He didn’t know anyone here, not that I’m aware of.”
“Oh no, Monsieur Hjamal, he knew quite a few people here ... and he knew Abdul Rasheed.”
“Abdul? But I thought he’d be the last person Richard—”
“Please bear with me until tomorrow,” Talya cut him off in midstream, “I think I’ll have all the answers for you by then.”
James got to his feet. “I think we should leave now.” He apparently did not want to prolong the discussion. “We have taken much of your time and shouldn’t abuse of your hospitality. I’ll be in touch with you tomorrow afternoon and maybe if I can impose on Maitre Sangor’s assistance, we could start drawing the agreement we spoke of.”
Hassan nodded in James’s direction as he stood up.
They shook hands with Hjamal and Hassan led Talya out of the office. She could sense he wanted to re-assert his position. He knew she felt something for the man, and he was probably feeling insecure about Talya’s tacit relationship with Hjamal. She felt a storm approaching, when she looked into his eyes, as they were leaving. James followed close behind so Hassan couldn’t say anything. It was just as well, it would give him time to cool off until they returned to the hotel.
As they got to the car, and standing in the parking lot, James said, “I’ll need to have a talk with you two when we get back to the hotel. There are some things we need to clear up.”
“Which things are those?” This unexpected request had peeked Talya’s curiosity.
“Well, for one thing, you seem to have a penchant for our Monsieur Hjamal, which could be dangerous.”
“Me? I don’t have a penchant for anyone. Really, James,” she said with fervour.
“But you do. It’s clear that you have some sort of admiration for this man, and that, Talya, is very dangerous.” She saw Hassan smile. Unknown to James, he had found an ally.
“Yes, you’re right, I have to agree I do admire him for what he dared to do, or better for what he’s planning to do, but don’t you?”
“Yes I do. There’s no denying it, his plan is admirable. However, I haven’t lost sight of the fact that the man is a dangerous individual—for him ‘his ends justify his means’ and you’ve seen him in action. Any means was justified as long as he attained his goal. That’s all I’m saying. Just be careful.”
“Monsieur Flaubert is right, Talya. And I know what you’re going to say,” Hassan rejoined.
“And what am I going to say?”
“For a start, you’re going to say: But.” At these words, James laughed heartily. Hassan smiled and so did Talya.
“I can see that you know Talya much better than I expected,” James said.
“Not yet, Monsieur Flaubert, not yet, not as much as I’d like to…”
Looking at her companions, Talya broke-in, “Well, if you gentlemen are done with your bantering, we could perhaps get to the ambassador before he gives up on us,” climbing in the backseat after Hassan opened the car door for her.
James got in the car. “Of course, I forgot, Sir Gillian. He must be on tender hooks by now. So let’s get on with it shall we?”
While they were driving through traffic at a snail’s pace, Hassan turned to James. “I am curious. You said that you wanted to talk to me about something, and may I ask what would that be?”
“Yes, you may ask, but you won’t get an answer right now. I don’t want to be responsible for you to have an accident in downtown Dakar. You’ll have to wait until we’re safely back at the hotel.”
Hassan smiled.
98
Similar to the Canadian consulate in Bamako, the Dakar embassy offices occupied the third floor of a modern building, which was located not far from Hjamal’s building.
The waiting room was like any other waiting room Talya knew. A bunch of chairs aligned opposite a counter behind which people were busy at their desk filling forms or doing what ever it was that they were doing. When they went in, James took the lead, marched to the counter and presumably announced their arrival for the meeting with his Excellency. He returned to sit beside Hassan and Talya and told them that the ambassador would be right out.
Sir Gillian Faulkner came out of a side door to meet them, his hand outstretched and a broad smile across his face. They shook hands. James made the introductions and they trotted through the door under the watchful eye of a Royal Canadian Mounted Police Officer, in traditional uniform.
His office was of a modest size and decorated with taste. Desk and chairs were antique pieces, probably taken from his home or brought in from Europe. They sat down across from him, and waited. He was skimming a document in front of him.
Sir Gillian was the picture of an Englishman—Talya’s picture anyway. He was tall with a lanky frame and a nonchalant attitude. The grey hair and moustache, the thin face and deep-set, blue eyes under thin eyebrows gave the impression of stoicism. Not much would move him. Yet, when he put his reading glasses on, she thought how fatherly and amiable the man looked. The commanding officer, she had heard on the phone was not the man she saw sitting at the desk. She wondered where the bowler hat and the umbrella could be.
“Ms Kartz,” Sir Gillian began, addressing Talya from over his spectacles, “I have just received a document, which may be of interest to you. In fact I’m sure it will answer some of the questions you should have in mind to pose at this very minute.”
“May I ask what the document in question is?”
“You may indeed, Ms Kartz. Before I reveal its content, however, I’ll ask you to confirm a few points for me. First, I would like you to tell me the name of the person whom you suspect to be responsible for the murder of Richard Gillman, that is, if you know his name, and then I’ll ask you to clarify your involvement, if any, with this person.”
“Yes, of course, I will tell you what I suspect has happened, and who the guilty party may be. Yet, I have no evidence to support my allegations. You see, the story I am prepared to put before you is only the logical conclusion I have drawn after analyzing all of the facts and information I have received or gleaned during the past several weeks. I have no proof to support any of these deductions. So, if this is understood, I am prepared to tell you the whole story from beginning to end.”
“Once I’ve heard what you’re about to say, Ms Kartz, I may be in a position to assist in gathering the evidence you may need to substantiate your allegations.” That’s what I call playing ball in a discussion.
James and Hassan, who had been watching the exchange much like they’d be watching a tennis match, decided to recline in their seat and listen to what was sure to be a long story. James had heard it the day before and Hassan had been involved in it from almost the beginning. His Excellency took his glasses off and began folding and unfolding the branches in a rhythmic gesture.
“But before you start, I must ask Mr. Flaubert and Maitre Sangor a question, if you’ll permit me?”
“By all means…” Talya shot a fleeting look at her companions.
“Gentlemen, I recognize that you’ve been involved in this affair perhaps willingly or maybe unwittingly. Therefore, and not knowing what Ms Kartz is about to reveal and whether or not it will implicate either of you, I must ask you if you wish to leave the room to shield yourselves from undue revelation or provocation?” Goodness, doesn’t he know that Hassan and James have nothing to do with the murder of Richard?
James shifted in his chair. “I’ve had the privilege of hearing the story first hand last night, and I don’t think Maitre Sangor or I have anything to worry about.”
“Your Excellency,” Hassan began, “you have put your trust in me once before by asking me to escort Madame Kartz to Dakar. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to do what you asked at the time. However, now I believe she is in need of my presence as her counsel. So, if you’ll permit me I’ll be staying at her side for the duration of this conversation.”
“Good, and since that’s settled, Ms Kartz, please go on.”
“Thank you,” Talya said, taking a sheaf of notes out of her purse. “As you are aware, this story began several months before our involvement….”
It took the better part of an hour to get to the end of her recital. At which time the ambassador turned to Hassan.
“Maitre Sangor, when you and Ms Kartz are going to face the authorities tomorrow morning, I suggest that you open the proceedings with a statement to the effect that she will have no official authority to