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

presume? The man is a poser and an idiot.
“As I’ve said during our several conversations,” the idiot went on, “I wish for you to help Monsieur Hjamal in his endeavours. I have loaned a lot of money to the fellow”—and I’ll believe that when chickens grow teeth—“and I don’t think I’ll see any of it back if someone doesn’t help him out of the hole.”
“I’m sorry to hear that you’ve spent money on a venture that seems to be doomed to fail at this point. However, in the same fashion that we couldn’t help Monsieur Hjamal then, we can’t help you now. I’ll repeat myself, Monsieur Rasheed: Carmine is not for hire. What’s more, I didn’t come here to bail out unwise investors.”
“I think you should listen very carefully to what I’m going to say next, Madame Kartz, I have seen both Monsieur Savoi and Madame McLean in Dakar, they have spoken very highly of your company and they are sending you their best regards.”
It was far too late in the night to play on words, and Talya didn’t want to elaborate on the Savoi subject at that hour.
Thankfully, Hassan began speaking, “I think you should leave now, Monsieur Rasheed, before I call on our two friends,” nodding toward the two men in the corner, “to escort you out. We’ve heard enough. Madame Kartz is tired and she doesn’t wish to be disturbed any further.”
Rasheed got up and said, “Have a good night,” bowing slightly, “Madame Kartz, Maitre...” He walked away then changed his mind, turned around and came back only to add, “By the way, before I forget—have a safe trip to Dakar. We’ll see you when you get there.” And he was gone.
The two bodyguards got up. The one that stopped Talya earlier came toward them.
“Madame Kartz, my name is Ashem and this is Yasanko.” He jutted a thumb over his shoulder at his partner behind him. “I’m sorry about what happened tonight before you left, but Monsieur Fade had not given us all the necessary information. Anyway, would you like us to follow this guy? He’s been roaming the hotel all evening.”
Both fellows looked alike. They were the same height and strong built, same square jaws; same deep-set eyes, similar attitude. They must be the Malian version of a couple of Feds.
Hassan was quick to react. “That’s all right, Ashem. I don’t think Monsieur Rasheed will bother us anymore tonight. But, if you find out which room he occupies, you could watch his movements and if he leaves before morning, I’ll ask you to come and call me right away. I’m in room 43.”
“Okay, we’ll do that. Madame Kartz, Maitre, we wish you both a good night.”
There was no sign of Abdul Rasheed anywhere when they made their way up the stairs. Hassan had taken a suite next to Talya’s. They just said good night to each other in the corridor, whispering the words so not to wake any one.
42
Hassan unlocked the door, walked in and closed it behind him. He leaned against the doorframe. His mind was abuzz with incoherent thoughts and his body was limp. Anger raged through his being. He threw the key on the bed and went to the mini-bar seeking something fresh to drink. The bottle of water he got from the bar wasn’t cold enough. He was burning up. He didn’t want to admit it but he felt the first chill of an onslaught of malaria. He had to get to bed, take some quinine and sleep it off. If he were lucky, the fever would have subsided by morning. Somehow, he doubted it. Had it been earlier in the evening, he would have rung Mohammed to tell him that Rasheed knew where Rheza and Savoi were, but it was too late, much too late...
43
Talya was exhausted. She had wanted to speak to this Rasheed character for ages. Now that she had had him right there in front of her, she had been tongue-tied. Perhaps she had too many questions for him. Perhaps she had been afraid of the answers he would have given her. Such as what he had said tonight, “...they are sending their best regards…” He obviously knew where Rheza and Savoi were. His message sounded more like a threat, some sort of ransom demand.
Maybe Talya was the one over-dramatizing this time. She scolded herself for letting her imagination run away with her.
After a much-needed shower, lying in bed trying to unravel her muddle thoughts, Talya fell asleep.
She awoke at three o’clock in the morning to a loud knock at her door. Stumbling out of bed, she opened the door without giving another thought about her safety. Ashem was standing in the doorway. He looked haggard.
“I’m sorry to wake you, Madame Kartz. Please come, Maitre Sangor is very sick,” he said hesitantly.
“Wait a minute, Ashem. What did you say?” Talya’s voice was unsteady with sleep.
“It’s Maitre Sangor…”
“Yes, yes. You say he’s sick? Oh, never mind. Have you called the doctor?”
“Yes, he’s on his way.”
“How do you know Maitre is ill?” She was slowly becoming aware of the oddity of this sudden call.
“I wanted to tell Maitre that Monsieur Rasheed was leaving, as he’d asked me to. When I knocked, there was no answer. So, I called the security guard and when we opened the door we saw Maitre—he was lying on his bed very sick with ‘palu’.”
Talya was horrified. Malaria! She was bewildered.
“Thank you, Ashem. Now, please, go back to him and wait for the doctor. I’ll get dressed.” Talya had only a nightshirt on. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
She hurried to the bathroom, splashed water on her face, brushed her teeth and dressed with the clothes that she had worn the evening before. What the heck … I’m not going to the debutante’s ball. …And if anything should happen to Hassan, Mohammed needs to be here. She picked up the phone and dialled Monsieur Fade’s home phone number, which he had given her at the bottom of his list of people to be contacted in Dakar.
“May I speak to Monsieur Fade, please?” She must have woken the man from a deep sleep. His voice was muffled as he answered in Bambara. Yet, as soon as he realized who was on the line he reverted to French.
“Madame Kartz? What’s happening? Are you all right?”
“Mohammed. I’ll call you Mohammed, if you don’t mind?”
“No. Of course not, I mean I don’t mind,” he muttered.
“Hassan is sick, very sick. I think it’d be better if you came to the hotel right away.”
“What’s wrong with him?” He sounded awake and alert now.
“Malaria … I think.”
“Not again! He’s been ill only three months ago. We almost lost him. I’ll be there in half-an-hour.” They hung up and Talya rushed to Room 43 down the hall.
44
She was sitting on the edge of Hassan’s bed. Talya had come in with the hotel nurse. She introduced herself in the hallway as they reached Hassan’s room. Her name was Justine, a pretty name for a pretty girl. She had a smiling face with almond shaped eyes. With her white smock and flat white shoes, she had the looks and the attitude of a typical nurse.
The sun was hot. The beach sand was white and glistening with each wave ebbing into the next. Hassan was looking at the ocean stretching its immensity before his eyes. The glare was intolerable. The birds, the vultures were diving down from the hill behind him. They were circling, screeching an awful song of hellish joy. What do they want? That girl, that body on the beach, a beautiful body on the sand. Hassan looked down at Rheza—her head to one side, smiling... “Hassan. The birds, Hassan, they are black... They want me to fly to the sky with them. Hassan, come with me. Come, Hassan…”
“I can’t, Rheza. Rheza. Rheza, wake up. Wake up …” Someone else was yelling these words.
“Wake up, Hassan, please wake up.”
Hassan woke up. Talya was sitting beside him on the bed. He was spent. He was drenched with his own sweat. What is Talya doing here? What time is it? He closed his eyes.
He went back to the beach. Rheza was far away. He was running. The black birds were coming closer. Another voice came to him. “Hassan, come on boy…” Who is it? Hassan couldn’t remember. He knew that voice but he couldn’t remember whose it was. What is Talya doing here? He opened his eyes again. He saw the man whose face he couldn’t remember.
“Hassan, please stay with us. We need you. Rheza needs you …” The voice was saying these words. Where is Rheza? I must find her. She must wake up ...”

When they saw the state Hassan was in, they tried to wake him without success. Justine deftly undressed him and they got another blanket, clean linen from the cupboard, and changed the sheets. They were soaked. Hassan hadn’t reacted to their ministrations. He lied there inert yet restless with convulsive movements. He groaned often. He mumbled words, broken sentences from time to time. His temperature must have been so high that Talya wondered how long his heart was going to stand the pressure.
Finally, Mohammed arrived with the doctor, a middle age man with a compassionate face. His dark eyes were inquisitive yet kind. He introduced himself as Dr. Ferron. Obviously, he was used to house calls in the middle of the night because he showed no sign of fatigue or irritation.
Still looking at his patient, he turned to Talya for an instant. “Have you given Maitre Sangor anything since you came in?”
“No, nothing. I came in with Justine and neither of us did anything but change the linen.”
“Do you know if he took any quinine today?”
“No, I don’t. But I’ve been with him for the whole day and I didn’t see him take anything, unless he took some before going to bed.”
Dr. Ferron then asked Mohammed to give him some background on his friend’s health and finally gave Hassan an injection and put him on an IV drip. That was surprising in itself, but Talya knew from experience, travelling with her father, that a physician in Africa often had hospital gear in the trunk of his car. Dr. Ferron came prepared.
After a while, Hassan seemed to calm down. He stopped muttering. He only called ‘Rheza’ a couple of times and settled back down.
Following another dose of quinine six hours later, Hassan opened his eyes at last. Justine ran downstairs to inform Dr. Ferron, who had returned to the hotel a half-an-hour earlier, knowing from practice, Talya supposed, approximately when his patient would wake up.
Hassan looked around as if he had seen his surroundings for the first time. Then he noticed that Talya was sitting on the bed beside him. “What are you doing here? What time is it?”
She didn’t answer. Tears were choking her.
Dr. Ferron came in and Talya moved away to let him do his job. She went