BAMAKO by Aribert Raphael (latest books to read .TXT) 📕

name is Abdul Rasheed,” he whispered in Talya’s ear.
What the…? Incredible…
You could have knocked her down with a feather.
“Abdul Rasheed. Here? In this hotel?” Talya was unable to contain her amazement. “The man is not short on guts. What the hell is he doing here? Please, excuse my language both of you.” She was stunned.
“Let’s go back to the room and decide what we should do next.” She took Chantal’s hand to lead her away quickly before she had time to react or add to Talya’s conspicuous outburst.
At that moment, George, the bartender came out of the lounge carrying a large tray full of sandwiches and a jug of orange juice, and approached the three of them.
“Madame Kartz, shall I take these to your room or would you like to eat downstairs at the bar?”
“Would you mind taking the tray upstairs? Thank you. We shall have lunch in my room.”
“By the way, ma’am, there was a Monsieur Rasheed asking for you this morning.”
“Did he now?”
“I told him you’d gone out early and I didn’t know when you’d return. Shall I tell him to call on you the next time I see him?”
It took a couple of seconds for the implication of this statement to register, and before Talya could reply. “No, George, it would be better if you just leave it up to him to find me, Okay?”
“No problem. I haven’t seen you all day.” He smiled and winked. He knew instantly that Talya didn’t want to be found.
The three of them climbed the stairs back to her room, George in tow. Chantal still had the letter in her hand. Once in the room, George deposited the tray on the table by the window and left the room discreetly.
Sitting down on the bed once again, Chantal said, “I really don’t know what to say, Talya. Apart from the fact that James and Jean-Claude went to Senegal last year and visited a property that seemed promising; I can’t see how we are any more involved?”
Hassan went to stand by the desk and looked at the two women in turn.
“But we are, Chantal, we are,” Talya said. “Not you personally of course, but Jean Claude and James are involved because they talked to Richard Gillman when they were in Sabodala—the same property mentioned in the letter. And as you’ve read, Richard was the engineer on site at the time.” Talya poured herself a glass of juice. “And Mr. Rasheed, the man whose name was mentioned downstairs a few minutes ago, is Monsieur Hjamal’s assistant (or he introduced himself as such) and Monsieur Hjamal is the President of Minorex.”
“You don’t say,” Chantal said wide-eyed.
Talya held out a hand and continued, “Wait. There is more. This Rasheed fellow, as you’ve heard, is staying here, in this hotel. He arrived last night apparently and he was driving Rheza’s car. And, we all know who Rheza is, don’t we?”
“...you mean Mr. Savoi is the missing link?”
“Exactly! Months ago, Richard Gillman was kidnapped, maltreated, and repatriated. Two days ago, he re-appears dead on a beach in Dakar. Then the police find my name scribbled in the margin of the letter you’ve just read. And now, Hjamal’s assistant is driving Rheza’s car looking for me….”
Throughout the next few minutes, the three of them remained silent. They needed to eat their lunch and digest this new turn of events. Hassan, as usual, ate very little. Obviously, he didn’t like sandwiches. He didn’t fancy western food. He preferred rice and vegetables. On the opposite end of the scale, Chantal and Talya couldn’t stop eating until the tray was bare.
Talya emptied her glass. “What do you suggest we do now?”
Hassan began pacing the floor, looking out the window. “May I use your phone?” He seemed to have come to a decision.
“Of course—who are you calling?” Talya asked.
“Mohammed.”
“Mohammed Fade? Why?”
“Think, Talya. Why would I want to ring Mohammed?”
“...Because Monsieur Fade knows Abdul Rasheed?”
“Madame Gauthier, would you give Talya a gold star? She found the answer all by herself,” Hassan said as he reached for the phone on the desk.
“It’ll be my pleasure, Maitre.” Chantal giggled and Talya smiled, although she was much too pre-occupied to find any of this amusing. They watched Hassan dial the phone number.
“Mohammed? ...Thank you. I’m fine, and you? I’m with Talya and Madame Gauthier at the Grand Hotel. Yes, we did…. No, she doesn’t…. I suppose so….”
Talya hated these one-way conversations. You always have to guess what is said at the other end of the line.
“...Did you know that Rasheed drove here last night in Rheza’s Mercedes?” Yet Talya did hear Monsieur Fade’s outburst at the mention of Rasheed’s name in connection with his niece.
They watched Hassan listen intently for a long moment. “Okay, we should be able to come down in an hour or so….” Then he hung up after a few courteous words in Bambara.
Chantal and Talya were looking at Hassan, with bated breath, waiting for him to tell them what Mohammed Fade had said.
“Mohammed is expecting you and me, Talya, in an hour at his office.” Hassan sat on the bed once again. “He said the ambassador has called him this morning and he (the ambassador) expected a call from James Flaubert tonight to explain his presence at the mine site last year. He’ll probably question James at length regarding his meeting with Richard Gillman. Also, as you two must have guessed, Mohammed didn’t know about Rasheed being here. He said that we should be leery of the man and try to avoid meeting him before we had a chance to talk.”
Chantal stood up and smiled at Talya. She looked sorry for herself when her name wasn’t called to go and see Monsieur Fade.
“I’ll go home and phone Jean-Claude right now. He’ll tell me what’s happened at the site last year. I should be able to report to you when you get back from Monsieur Fade’s office.”
Talya stared at Hassan. “Why did Monsieur Fade specify that only you and me should go and see him?”
“We cannot involve Madame Gauthier in all of this, Talya. We’re not in a theatre, playing a part. This is reality. We cannot endanger anyone else.”
“So, you still think there is more to this than meets the eye?”
“Definitely, don’t you?”
“Yes, perhaps I do. But I don’t want to over-dramatize the whole affair.”
“Over-dramatize! Talya, a man is dead. Your company is involved. James and you both know the suspects—because Hjamal and Rasheed are just that: suspects in a murder case. What’s more you’re intending to go and face these two. What could be more dramatic than that? You’ve heard what the consul said. He clearly wanted to warn you of the impending dangers that your trip to Dakar may bring about. As far as I’m concerned, I would like you to take this business a little more seriously. Ultimately, I think it very unwise to involve Madame Gauthier more than she is already through her husband.”
Of course, Hassan was right. Talya shouldn’t play the story down but she didn’t want it blown out of proportion either.
“Okay but let’s keep everything into perspective.” Didn’t I say that before?
Chantal was standing by the door, her hand on the doorknob and ready to leave. “Hassan is right, Talya, and you know it. If anything should happen to either of you, I should be home ready to help and not underfoot just because I like the excitement.”
“All right, all right, both of you. But you’ll ring me tonight to let me know what Jean-Claude said, okay?”
“Of course, but I must go now. You kids take care of yourselves …” and, she was gone. Kids? Did she really say that?
Talya then called the busboy to come up and take the empty tray and both she and Hassan went down with him. In the next few minutes, they were on their way once more to Monsieur Fade’s office. Having never had the displeasure of meeting Monsieur Rasheed, Talya couldn’t tell if he was observing her leaving the hotel or not. Too late now.
38
By three o’clock, Talya and Hassan were sitting in Monsieur Fade’s office. As usual, the man had the phone receiver hanging from his ear. He looked troubled. The person at the other end of the line didn’t seem to allay any of his anxieties. His attitude was tense and fidgety. At last, he hung up and swivelled his chair toward his two visitors.
“I’ve just finished talking to Monsieur Rasheed.”
“You what?” Hassan said, lifting an eyebrow incredulously.
“You’ve heard me correctly the first time. I don’t want to repeat myself.” Monsieur Fade threw a sharp glance in his friend’s direction. Hassan bowed his head not to return the glare.
“As I was saying, Hassan, I’ve just finished talking to Abdul Rasheed. And as you’ve told me, he’s in Mali looking for Madame Kartz.” He looked at Talya pointedly. “The pretext I used to call him was that he had been seen driving my niece’s car and since I hadn’t heard from her in some time, I told him I was a little worried.”
Talya’s curiosity was mounting. “And what did Rasheed have to say to that?”
“He was very vague. He said he had talked to Rheza a couple of days ago. She was still in Dakar then, and she had been searching for her uncle. He said she had not found him yet and wanted to come back to Mali with him. Apparently, she suggested for him to take the car across the border while she took a flight back. So according to him, Rheza should have arrived in Bamako yesterday.”
Hassan unbuttoned his jacket. “Have you checked if Rheza has returned home yet?”
“No, not yet I haven’t. I phoned her children every morning to inquire about their mother, and the reply has been the same for nearly three weeks now. Rheza is still in Dakar.”
“I have no doubt she is still in Dakar,” Hassan agreed, while taking his jacket off and putting it on the back of his chair. “But I doubt Rheza would lend her car to such a person or would leave Dakar without finding her uncle. I am also certain that she would have phoned her children if she had any intention of coming back.”
“Those are my exact thoughts. I’m sorry if I was cross with you earlier, Hassan, but this whole affair has me on edge.” Monsieur Fade then reclined in his seat and reflected, “If I had borrowed a car to bring it anywhere on behalf of someone, I would’ve contacted that person immediately when I arrived, and return the property without delay. I certainly wouldn’t have gone to the hotel and park the car without alerting the person’s family first.”
While listening to the exchange, Talya became impatient to bring this matter to a head. She wanted to know what brought Rasheed to town. “What about meeting with Abdul Rasheed before I leave?”
Hassan’s mouth fell open. “Talya! Why do you always have to precipitate the inevitable?”
“Why not? The man has the answers we’re looking for—at least some of them—and I would have thought you would be