BAMAKO, Aribert Raphael [read out loud books .TXT] 📗

render a decision in Carmine’s favour.
She ended her story by saying, “Yes, in fact, I’m somehow concerned about Monsieur Savoi’s safety on the one hand, and I’m quite annoyed, to put it mildly, by the way he obviously used some of my company’s funds.”
The somewhat putout Suzanne chose this moment to knock at the door before walking in with a tray of coffee and an assortment of biscuits. She poured a cup for each the Minister and Talya and retreated again quietly. Until now, the Minister had respectfully kept silent while listening attentively to Talya’s tale. He looked ill at ease as he moved forward to get his cup of coffee from the tray. He probably wondered how he was going to get rid of this unexpected guest without consequences.
“Madame Kartz. I very much regret what is happening to you and to your company. However, I have no direct recourse to such policing matters. Monsieur Savoi is known in this department. His actions are straying from the strict legal path, and I will do whatever I can to bring your suspicions to the attention of the authorities.” Somehow Talya doubted that. He drank a little from his cup and continued. “I have a duty toward your company, however. I will review your application for the Kankoon permit personally, and speed up its processing so this part of the affair shouldn’t be a burden to you anymore. You ask Maitre Sangor to get in touch with our director and together they should be able to take care of the matter fairly quickly, one way or the other.”
He managed to appease Talya’s anger a little. She was still annoyed with Savoi and she wanted to have an answer to only one question: where is the bastard?
The Minister finished his coffee and Talya started on hers. They made small talk and she obtained the names of some people, he said, who could help her find the culprit, or was it the victim now? Talya wondered.
A half-an-hour later, she was back in the car asking Moïse, the chauffeur, to take her to her second call for the day: Maitre Sangor’s office.
Pushing the heavy wooden door, Talya entered her attorney’s law practice. It was located near one of the corners of a busy intersection, among government buildings and along a tree-lined avenue, which led outside of town.
When she saw Talya and realized who she was, his secretary’s mouth fell open. She was cute as a doll in a toyshop. She had lovely dark eyes and an impish, mischievous smile. Her head of soft curls would have been the wonder of any hairdresser anywhere in the world. Amid the curls, there were a couple of little bows made of the same fabric as her dress, a green satin gown with silver threads.
“Madame Kartz? That’s right isn’t it? You are Madame Kartz? Maitre described you …”
“Yes, I am, and you are?”
“Daphne, Madame Kartz. Please, please sit down. I’ll tell Maitre you’re in.” She dialled the intercom and Talya went to take a seat on one of the visitors’ chairs opposite her desk.
The décor was that of any well-to-do law offices in this part of the world. At first glance, it inspired respectability and efficiency. It was furnished with beautifully carved African redwood furniture. Oriental carpets covered some of the slate floor, and computer monitors stood on every desk. Beige metal file cabinets lined part of the walls. There were comfortable seating arrangements in a corner, while the light from the overhead neon fixtures was soft and easy on the eyes. By Bamako standards, this was a very nice office indeed.
Hassan rushed out of his office, came down the corridor, almost running.
As Talya stood up to greet him, he took her hand in both of his. “Are you all right, anything wrong? What are you doing here so early?” His voice was shaking.
“Yes, yes, and here is the answer to your third question.” She handed him the letter. He read it where he stood.
A frown came across his brow. “At what time did you receive this?”
“Four o’clock this morning.”
“Come in my office, please. We need to clear this up, right away.”
Talya nodded and followed him down the hallway to his office. She sat down in one of the chairs he indicated as they came in. The furnishing was sober and elegant, as he was. His Law Degree hung well in evidence on the wall opposite from where she sat. The wide mahogany work-table barely noticeable under piles of documents and files, the two bookcases, overflowing with volumes of jurisprudence and European literature, and the three chairs were the only pieces of furniture in this rather large room. Hassan sat behind his desk and read the letter aloud this time. He stopped. A few moments were spent in silence.
He lifted his head. “I would have to say this letter adds another dimension to our problem. We have to consider its meaning as well as what Savoi is trying to achieve by sending this message to you now. As for the letter itself, do you think it’s genuine?”
“No. I don’t think so. Look at it and tell me what you see,” Talya replied matter-of-factly.
“Well, he could have typed it himself, or dictated it to someone close to him or even have it done at the business centre at the Terranga hotel.”
“Yes, everything you’ve just mentioned is a possibility in itself. But I’ve stayed at the Terranga and I know they’re using computers at the business centre, not typewriters. This letter has been typed on an old mechanical typewriter, not on an electronic one and this is not a computer printout. And another thing; look at how regular and even the imprint of each letter is. That means it’s been typed by a two-finger-typist—or someone pretending to be an untrained typist—not by a touch-typist. The touch-typist uses every finger of both hands and some fingers are less powerful than others, leaving a lesser imprint on the paper. This is not the case here. Every letter is evenly imprinted onto the sheet. If anything, Savoi may have typed it himself, but then, why not sign it? It would have added weight to the request, credibility as it were. What’s more, why is he asking to be paid at a hotel in Dakar, when making a transfer to his bank account would have been much quicker? He could have access to the funds faster that way.”
To Hassan, the woman’s insight was amazing. Talya’s clear mind and deductive powers was definitely an added attraction to him. She was not only beautiful, with hair as blond as the rising sunlight, but her intelligence and astuteness shone through her words.
“I see what you mean.” He had listened to Talya quietly. He now sat up and rested his elbows on the desk.
“But if everything you said is true, then who did write this note?”
“Rheza,” Talya said, trying to be convincing. “...Although she’s an accomplished typist.”
Hassan stood up and started pacing the floor behind her. While sitting somewhat impatiently, Talya looked absentmindedly at the carpet beneath her feet. It must have cost him a fortune. It was a Chinese silk rug. It covered the best part of the floor. The man was not doing too badly was he? In fact, he must be very well off.
A few minutes later, and instantly bringing Talya down to the more modest reality of their troublesome situation, Hassan put both his hands on the back of her chair saying; “Let’s go, Talya, we have places to go, things to do.” This man had the knack for throwing surprises at her.
She rose and turned to face him. “Hold on a moment. I have a car and a chauffeur outside. What do you propose I do with him?”
“Just send him back to the hotel and if you need him this afternoon, you can always call him back.”
What am I supposed to say now? She wasn’t about to argue. She had to resign herself to the fact that she had lost another fight for control of the situation.
On their way out, Hassan grabbed his jacket, a couple of files, which he slid into his briefcase and left instructions with Daphne, telling her he wouldn’t be back that day.
In the parking lot, Moïse was expecting Talya. She told him to go back to the Grand and wait for her there. She gave him a handsome tip for his trouble. He was a trustworthy young man. Talya knew he would go places in the world. He thanked her profusely and assured her that he would be waiting for her at the Grand in case Talya needed his services later during the day.
As Talya sat on the passenger seat of Hassan’s car, he held the door opened, peered down at her, and quietly said, “I think I’ll stay with you at the hotel tonight,” and closed the door.
Talya just sat there, dazed. Why would he want to do that? There was no need for her to have someone watching over her. There was nothing to worry about, or was there? Her imagination was running in all directions once again. And where does he think he is going to sleep?
Yesterday, Hassan had left her with a word of warning—‘do be careful’. Today he was intending to spend the night at the Grand—what was this?
He sat at the wheel and turned the key in the ignition.
She turned her face to him. “Where are we going?”
“Mohammed Fade’s office.” Hassan reversed the car out of the parking lot.
“Why?” Talya asked.
“Mohammed has a lot of clout in this town. He is a respected member of this community. If anyone can help, it would be him.”
“Yes, I know he has some pull in this country, but what about in Senegal?”
“It doesn’t make a bit of difference; when it comes to Mohammed’s contacts, you’d be surprised.”
“I hate to rain on your parade, but why do you want to bother? Savoi is gone and now Rheza has probably decided to follow him. So why do we have to bother with these two any more? As far as I’m concerned that chapter is closed.”
Hassan turned to her and smiled. “I thought we had decided to find out who was behind Savoi’s escapade and why, or did you forget? We’ve got to find Savoi and why he has decided to go to Dakar all of a sudden, because we need to clear Carmine’s name, so you can get your Kankoon permit, or don’t we?”
“Maybe that won’t be necessary now.” Talya told Hassan about her visit to the Minister and his readiness to help them in channelling the Kankoon application.
Hassan smiled again and shook his head. “The Minister would have said anything just to get rid of you. He doesn’t like to be mixed up in his department’s dissensions. He prefers not to know about them. I tell you, you need to prove that Savoi has committed a criminal offence, such as bribing government officials or embezzling funds, before the Kankoon permit can be awarded to Carmine.” At these words, he returned his attention to the traffic.
23
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