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Authors: Trevor Corbett

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BOOK: An Ordinary Day
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Durant shrugged his shoulders. ‘You know, maybe I didn’t kill her, but I also didn’t save her, and that’s almost as bad as killing her.’

Heath frowned and for the first time looked puzzled at one of Durant’s answers. ‘You didn’t save her? From what, from whom?’

‘From Ben Salem.’

‘Salem?’

Durant nodded and looked down; it was difficult to conceal his anxiety. He was betraying the Agency; he had succumbed to an interrogation which hadn’t even involved electric shocks or cold water or bright lights.

‘It’s not me you want, it’s Ben Salem. You want a suspect, he’s your suspect. He travelled with Elhasomi, he was staying with her, he killed her. We think he may also have killed a local person.’

Heath rubbed his chin, raised his eyebrows almost imperceptibly, and looked at the empty coffee cup on the table beside the stained dockets.

‘Can I get you another cup of coffee?’

Ambassador Albirai walked briskly through the arrivals hall at Durban International Airport and sat down at a table closest to the fish tank. Masondo observed him from a distance, and then made his way over to the table. They shook hands.

‘Ambassador Albirai,’ Masondo said, ‘I was expecting someone else.’

Albirai avoided eye contact and shook his head. ‘Mr Masondo, such an important matter, I will give it my personal attention.’

‘Well, I’m honoured, sir. I hope we can help.’

‘We invest a great deal of effort and expense in our diplomats. We send them to the far corners of the world to represent our great country. We do not expect them to come back in body bags.’

Masondo thought for a minute. ‘This is a very isolated and peculiar case and certainly not the norm.’

‘South Africa is supposed to protect visitors, especially visiting diplomats.’

‘Mr Ambassador, I can assure you, the police are doing everything in their power to identify and arrest the perpetrators of this crime. I think we were as shocked as you to hear of how Ms Elhasomi died. Our Foreign Minister sends her most fervent sympathies.’

‘Indeed. Ms Elhasomi was carrying out official duties for her country and she died a heroine.’

Masondo rubbed his chin thoughtfully, mainly for effect. ‘I’m curious, Mr Albirai, why Ms Elhasomi didn’t declare herself to our Foreign Affairs Department. We could have arranged protection for her.’

Albirai spoke immediately, almost as if he had the answer ready, Masondo thought. ‘Ms Elhasomi was in your beautiful country to meet people in the tourism industry. She wears two hats. She is a political officer at the People’s Bureau and also a tourist consultant. It was not a diplomatic mission as such; it was follow-up work for our government.’

‘If she wasn’t wearing a diplomatic hat, then she can’t have diplomatic immunity, Mr Albirai. You can’t have it both ways. Was she wearing any other hats? How many hats can one person wear before we start asking questions?’

‘What are you insinuating, Mr Masondo? I do not think I like your tone.’

‘I hope we don’t have reason to suspect she was involved in some sort of unsanctioned or, God forbid, illegal activity?’

Albirai laughed. ‘We are a disciplined nation, Mr Masondo. We do not have rogue diplomats running around and undermining other countries’ sovereignty. We are South Africa’s friends. I can assure you, her business was official.’

‘The fellow she was travelling with, Mr Salem, was he official too?’

Albirai’s eyes narrowed and Masondo noticed a slight twitch under his right one. ‘I am not aware of a travelling companion. Who is this Salem?’

Masondo read the non-verbal cues clearly. Albirai honestly hadn’t known about Salem.

‘She arrived with him, drove around with him, slept with him, and, we suspect, she was murdered by him.’

‘You monitored Ms Elhasomi from when she arrived?’

‘Well, Mr Albirai, as you said, it wasn’t a diplomatic mission, so it must have been some other type of mission, and we wanted to know what type of mission. We were aware of some of her movements, some of the time.’

Albirai shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He looked genuinely disappointed. ‘The icon of democracy, the best constitution in the world, and you follow our diplomats around. Shame on you, Mr Masondo.’

‘You’re right, shame on us. If we’d arrested Elhasomi on her arrival in South Africa, she might still be alive today. We’re aware she came into this country, with or without official sanction, to do business with a local criminal called Farouk Ali. I love this country, I fought hard for freedom, and it’s the very democracy you are referring to which I am trying to protect.’

‘I am shocked, Mr Masondo, and disappointed at your government’s treatment of foreign guests. I am sure our great leader will be raising the issue of good neighbourliness at the next au meeting. You have a duty to protect our nationals … No, it is more than a duty; it is an obligation.’

Masondo leaned forward until his face was only centimetres from Albirai’s. ‘I don’t know where your indignation comes from, sir, or where you’ve parked your high horse, but I do know this – we will find Elhasomi’s murderer and we will ensure justice is done in the South African way. I will choose to ignore the fact that Elhasomi was illegally in possession of large sums of us dollars and was buying something from a known crime boss with a history of smuggling
WMD
material.

‘We need to develop an understanding here, Mr Albirai. There are many avenues of investigation I can pursue, and I could choose any one of them. I would rather focus my investigations on finding Elhasomi’s murderer than waste my investigators’ time on trying to figure out what she was doing here while she was alive.

‘Now, what do you want me to do, Mr Albirai? You tell me what you want me to do.’

A housekeeper greeted Amina at the door of Ali’s home and showed her into one of the reception rooms. Amina thought briefly about Durant and Shezi’s sojourn into the house a few months previously and wondered how they’d found their way around the interior. It was a bizarre feeling being in the house of the target, a man she’d observed for so many months in his office and knew so much about, but had never met. It was hard to imagine that the pictures and sounds that were streamed to her office originated within the walls of this real house. Sometimes Amina felt her job was like a virtual-reality game. The individuals involved became unreal, playing their specific roles on specific stages. It was hard to believe that they had a life outside those roles.

At length, large double doors opened and the housekeeper came in, carefully manoeuvring a wheelchair into the room. Amina stood up and walked across to the woman in the wheelchair and extended her hand.

‘As Salaam Alaikum, Mrs Ali, I’m Dr Soraya Khan.’

The woman in the wheelchair raised her hand without looking up. ‘I am Azizya Ali. Where is my husband?’

Amina sat down next to Mrs Ali as the housekeeper left the room.

‘I called you, Mrs Ali, because I’m also concerned. I don’t know if Mr Ali ever mentioned to you that he was seeing a psychologist?’

Mrs Ali shook her head. ‘Mr Ali tells me very little. He looks after me financially, pays the medical bills for me and makes sure I have everything I need to lead a normal life. As normal as life can be in a wheelchair.’

‘Mrs Ali, your husband has been my patient since July and for the past two weeks he told me he was feeling depressed. When he didn’t turn up at yesterday’s consultation, I was worried and that’s why I called you.’

‘Well, doctor, the police were also here this morning asking where he is. They are concerned about his safety.’

‘Why would that be, Mrs Ali?’

‘Farouk is very successful in what he does. He is an astute businessman, but he has enemies. There is a lot of jealousy. He doesn’t talk to me about these things. Perhaps he talks to you?’

‘Yes. He once mentioned that there is a place he likes to go to when he wants to be alone, a place where he can gather his thoughts and find himself. Do you know where that place could be?’

Mrs Ali looked up and smiled.

‘I might be disabled, but I am not a fool. I know I can’t give Farouk what he needs. I suspect the place he is talking about is where he would take her.’

Amina looked puzzled. ‘Her?’

‘Dr Khan, Farouk’s loyalty to me ends after he has signed the cheques. I am the devoted wife who attends the functions with him and makes small talk with the wives of his business partners while he wheels and deals and smokes cigars. I’m a functional part of his business. I’m a public relations gimmick. I believe there’s a woman out there who satisfies his non-business lusts.’

‘I respect your honesty, Mrs Ali.’

The woman turned her wheelchair around slowly. ‘Doctor, would you take me out into the garden?’

The 8 a.m. meeting was postponed until nine after Amina phoned to say she was still busy with an interview. Shezi and Durant made their way to a quiet corner table at the Horizons waterfront café and ordered coffee. Amina arrived at the same time as Masondo, and joined them. Silently, briefcases were opened and notebooks and files taken out and placed on the table.

‘I’m encouraged,’ Durant said, ‘looking at your faces. You all look as if you bring good news.’ He smiled as he looked at Masondo, ‘Except you, chief. It looks like you’re having a hard time.’

Masondo shook his head grimly. ‘I had the Libyan ambassador on my case the whole of yesterday. I don’t know what to do, Kevin. He complains all the time – about the crime rate, about police incompetence, about the humidity, about the dirt in the streets – and he reminds me how safe Tripoli is, how you can walk around at night in the city centre and be completely safe. The guy’s a pain.’

Durant smiled. ‘I guess it goes with being the head. You get to hang out with important people.’

‘Well, I’d much rather be in the field with you lot. He’s testing me. He wants me to say something about this case, but I don’t tell him a thing. The police are investigating and making progress is all I say.’

‘They can’t interfere too much. They can only observe, chief. If we arrest Salem, we’re not about to hand him over to them, anyway. He’s probably under pressure from his boss to recover the money or to try and save the deal Elhasomi was busy with. I think you’re doing well to keep him at arm’s length for the moment. Hopefully he’ll get frustrated and go back to Pretoria.’

‘I’ve got real work to do. I’m not a diplomat.’

‘I hear you. Yesterday, I met a policeman for coffee and had a chat to him about some things. Inspector Bradley Heath – nice guy, arrested me for Elhasomi’s murder.’

‘Arrested you?’ Masondo’s voice boomed, and a couple at a nearby table looked around and glanced at them before nervously resuming their conversation. Masondo lowered his voice. ‘Are you serious?’

‘My phone number’s on the card I gave Elhasomi. Never give your phone number to a Libyan intelligence officer. Especially one who’s going to be murdered the next day.’

‘Is there a reward if we turn you in?’ Shezi asked. ‘’Cos if there is, I’ll make the call.’

‘Very funny. Heath saw my car outside her townhouse and my fingerprints are all over the place. Even on the flippen murder weapon. It was hard to deny my involvement in the case.’

BOOK: An Ordinary Day
13.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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