BAMAKO by Aribert Raphael (smart books to read txt) 📖

waited for Hassan to come back. Talya was sure he was going to knock on her door at any moment now. She picked up the phone and dialled Chantal’s number.
“Hello, Chantal, how are you doing?”
“Hi, Talya, I’m doing fine, thanks. I’ve spoken to Jean-Claude and he was able to give me some details about Richard Gillman that may be of interest to you…”
“Hold on. I think it’ll be better if you come to the hotel and have dinner with Hassan and me. After all, it may be our last opportunity to meet before I leave.”
“I don’t want to impose. Besides, I’m tired and I’m expecting a call from my daughter tonight. I’d really like to be home when she rings. Maybe tomorrow would be better and I can give you the details over the phone, there isn’t much. You see…”
“Chantal, please,” Talya cut-in somewhat abruptly, “I rather speak to you in person. Even if you don’t stay for dinner, do me a favour; come as soon as you can.” Talya hung up.
There was a knock at the door.
“Who is it?” Talya wanted to be sure that it was Hassan and not Rasheed.
“Hassan, Talya. May I come in?”
Talya let him in without a word. He closed the door behind him and as she turned around, Hassan put his arms around her and held her for a long while. In the safety of his arms, an insidious sense of helplessness had crept up silently to overwhelm her.
When she pulled away from his embrace, she shook her head slowly and told him about her phone call to Chantal. “I didn’t want to explain over the phone what was going on, but I wanted to hear what Jean-Claude had to say and I’ve asked her to come over.”
“Why did you ring her? You know what the ambassador said.”
“I know what he said. I’ve heard what everybody said today.” She was frustrated. “And if you look back at what’s been happening and at what’s been said—not only today but ever since I’ve set foot in this town—you can only draw one conclusion: nothing and no one seem to be what, or who they really are.”
“What do you mean?” Hassan looked at her in puzzlement.
“Do you remember what you told me this afternoon? “We are not in a theatre playing a part—” In fact, we are all playing into the hands of someone. We’ve been taken for a majestic ride. Unfortunately, Richard Gillman lost his life playing a part for an evil producer.”
“Talya, do you know what you’re saying?” Hassan was sitting on the bed beside her.
“Yes, of course I know what I’m saying. Look, in the first place, you’ve got Rheza; she comes to me for help, although she doesn’t need any. Savoi doesn’t show his face when I arrived in Bamako. He goes in hiding supposedly. In reality, he’s gone to Dakar to meet with Hjamal. Hjamal comes to Vancouver and says he’s got money, when in fact; he’s running out of funds. Last, you’ve got Rasheed, who pretends to come here to bring back Rheza’s car. Do you see what I mean?”
“Yes, I see … and we don’t even know if any of these actors are going to continue playing the same role. Like Rheza, as you’ve said, she could be a willing participant today and tomorrow a hostage or even the victim of blackmail throughout the scene.”
“Exactly! We’ve been through a house of mirrors at the fair. Now we’ve got to find the right door to get out.”
“And pray do tell me which door is that?”
Talya got up, put her bag on her shoulder and walked toward the door of the room.
“This one, Hassan. Down the stairs we go looking for Abdul Rasheed.” She smiled.
“You must be crazy. But if you think this door is leading us out of this mess, and talking to Rasheed will bring us closer to finding a solution, I’m with you.”
At the bar, there were two people sipping on tall drinks. They threw a long meaningful glance in Talya’s direction. She smiled in reply and wished them a “good evening.” Hassan grabbed her by the elbow and whispered, “Who are they?”
“I don’t know, Hassan. New arrivals I suppose.” Hassan didn’t know what to make of this latest encounter—neither did Talya. When you know you are being watched, you become suspicious of everyone around you, even innocent people who greet you at the bar.
“Never mind—let’s try to find our friend Monsieur Rasheed,” Talya said.
Hassan questioned the barman who had brought their lunch upstairs a few hours earlier. They spoke in Bambara. Once their little tête-à-tête ended, Hassan turned to Talya to explain that Rasheed had come down to have a drink at the bar that afternoon. He had asked at what time the restaurant opened. He had also queried Talya’s comings and goings. Obviously, Rasheed wanted to know if she was a regular patron and the best time for a chance meeting.
The lounge was busy as usual at this time of night. They walked away from the bar and grabbed a corner table where they could talk quietly. As she sat down, Talya noticed two individuals sitting a couple of tables behind them. They were watching them.
Talya reclined against the back of the chair. “So, what do we do now?”
“I suggest we do nothing. The man is going to show up, of that I’m sure. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
“What about if we called him—he must be in his room right now, we could force the issue?”
“No, we shouldn’t. He’s not one of your regular businessmen that you call for a meeting. For all we know he may be watching us right now. As I’ve told you before, you should never be at anyone’s beck-and-call. So, let him come to you. Let him brew for a while. He’ll show up soon enough. Have patience.”
“Patience,” Hassan said. I don’t have any left. But he’s right (I guess). She took a sip of the juice the waiter had brought to the table. They waited.

41
A few minutes later, Chantal came in and sat down across from Talya without a word.
She greeted Hassan and glared at Talya saying, “Why did you hang up on me?”
“Sorry about that, but you’ve got to hear what happened after you left this afternoon to understand why I did what I did.”
“Apologies accepted but explanation needed.” The traces of annoyance in Chantal’s manner suddenly loosened into a broad smile.
“All right, here we go…” Talya recounted the conversations she and Hassan had with the ambassador and James. She also told her about her misgivings; the events, the people and everything taking a different shape when put under a magnifying glass.
When Talya finished, Chantal looked into her purse, fetched out a notepad, scribbled a few words and handed her the little sheet she had just ripped off from it. She had written, “Monsieur Rasheed called me before I left.”
Talya passed the note to Hassan saying, “Okay, that does it!”
Hassan read it and leaned back on the chair, shook his head in disbelief and gave the paper back to Chantal.
“We’ll have to go someplace else to talk,” Talya said. “We should go to the restaurant where we went the first week I was here.” She looked at her attorney. “It is a quiet place and yet very public. We could hide in the middle of the crowd sort of thing.”
Hassan got up. “All right. But do we go in separate cars?”
Chantal and Talya rose from their seats as well.
“No. I think it’s better if we stay together,” Talya replied, “and Chantal, can you tell your chauffeur to wait for you here? By the way, when is your daughter calling?”
“Not before ten o’clock this evening. So there is plenty of time for us to go out and come back before she rings.”
“That’s fine then. Shall we?”
Talya went to the bar where George handed her the bill to sign. Once done, she quickly rejoined her friends in the parking lot, not noticing that someone was following her. As she was reaching Hassan’s car and as he was opening the passenger door for her, a tall man came up and stood behind Talya. She turned to face the intruder.
Obviously, he had overlooked the first rule of etiquette in Islam—not to address an accompanied lady without her escort’s explicit approval.
“Madame Kartz, may I ask where you’re going?” His presence towered over her.
Talya took two steps back to look at the individual questioning her movements. He had come so close that she almost kicked him where she shouldn’t. Just a reflex of mine.
“Sir.” She glared at him from her rather diminutive stature, “I don’t know who you are nor do I know what gives you the right to ask me such a question, but, I’ll tell you. I’m going out for dinner with my friends. If you wish to follow us, that’s fine with me. But that is all I’ll allow you to do.”
With that, Talya turned, sat on the front seat, and slammed the door away from him, almost catching his fingers in the process.
Hassan, who seemed desperate to punch the fellow senseless during their little spat, had a few harsh words for him, and the man retreated. He stood on the front steps, still looking at them as Hassan got behind the wheel and started the motor running.
Chantal, who’d gone around the vehicle noiselessly to sit in the backseat, closed the car door. “What was that all about? Who stopped you?”
Talya smiled. “One of my guardian angels, I suspect.”
“My goodness, this is getting exciting.” Chantal seemed to be taking everything in good humour.
“I don’t know about exciting. I only know that I don’t like the way things are shaping up. All this fuss, I mean. I don’t appreciate being watched. Even if someone has decided that it’s for my own good.”
Reversing the car out of the parking lot, Hassan said, “The man was assigned to follow us. Apparently, he’s from the Primature. He’s all right.”
He may have been all right, but Talya couldn’t accept being tailed while they were still in Bamako. “I’ll be glad to get out of here,” she said under her breath.
While driving through the now darkened and emptier streets of Bamako, Hassan turned his head to Talya for an instant. “Why do you stubbornly refuse to accept any form of protection? You know Rasheed is after you. Who’s to say that he’s not waiting for you to be alone so that he could induce you, or force you to go to Dakar with him?”
She shot an unnerved glance at her lawyer. “Don’t you understand? Rasheed only wants to entice me into action. He doesn’t want to antagonize me at this juncture. That would be disastrous for Hjamal. You must see that. Anyway he’s not in his country; crossing the border with me would be much too difficult for him, I would think.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. The ambassador was right. These people have contacts everywhere and if Rasheed wants to take you to Dakar, or