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

control and once his aircraft had reached cruising altitude, Samir turned his thoughts to Talya and Hassan. Samir was a man whose perspicacity was renowned. He had seen Talya’s eyes. He had seen her feelings in those eyes. She was scared. She was afraid, afraid of being trapped, afraid of being locked into a relationship or a marriage she would regret. She seemed devoid of feelings for Hassan. How could he make her see the trap that lay ahead? Perhaps she knew it already. Perhaps it was not too late to stop her.
Yet, there was something else she feared—Samir could sense it—but what?
It had to be in her past. Her rejection of male advances was insensitive. Why? What lay hidden in this woman’s past? Samir was determined to find out.
75
Les Almadies proved to be as pleasant as Mohammed had described. They ate at the Terrace Restaurant in the shade of huge mango trees. The breeze from the ocean provided a welcome relief from the heat. There were about twenty tables, which stood precariously over the irregular slate floor. They ordered grilled fish and prawns. A bowl of rice came with the order. They ate while talking about the many secret places, which Mohammed knew lay hidden in Dakar and surrounding beaches. Slowly and in a round about way, they came to talk about Hassan’s life, his past, and his desire to get out of Mali to carve his future in foreign stones. Of course, the subject of mixed marriages inevitably came up.
Fiddling with his teaspoon, Mohammed said, “Have you ever considered the possibility of marrying again?” How does he know I have been married once?
“Of course I have. But not with anyone like Hassan.”
“You mean anyone black like Hassan?”
“Not exactly. The colour of our skin doesn’t matter as much as customs and creed do. In my opinion, they are very much in the way of any such union. Hassan’s family would make sure he didn’t forget how he has been raised—as a Muslim. As for me, I’m Jewish. Maybe in the broadest sense of the term, yet my beliefs couldn’t be waved in favour of another or different God.” Mohammed was peering into her eyes. Undeterred by his scrutiny, Talya went on, “And I’ll be honest with you, although I have the greatest respect for your way of life, I couldn’t see myself sharing my husband with other wives or concubines. My views on the subject are not that liberal. Maybe I admire Hassan and I respect him and even love him, but I can’t see us married. And I can’t see him sharing my life.”
“Maybe you don’t know Hassan as well as I thought you did then. I say that because I know Hassan wouldn’t marry more than once, for one thing. Perhaps you don’t know this either, according to the laws of Islam and as practiced in Western Africa, you have a choice when you marry for the first time. Before he takes his first wife, a man has to declare solemnly and forever how many wives he wishes to take. And in Hassan’s case, I know for a fact, that he won’t take anymore than one bride.”
“But—” Talya tried to cut-in when Mohammed held his hand up to stop her interruption.
“And as for seeing Hassan sharing your life, possibly, and from what you have just described, you are the one who is not prepared to share his life.” No wonder Mohammed was in politics—he caught her—he was right.
76
As he approached their destination, Samir began circling the area to take a closer look at the scenery below. There were three distinct hills each separated by a stream.
The hill, on his left, was covered halfway with sparse green vegetation growing luxuriant over the red, laterite earth. Here and there little trees protruded from the bushes. At the top of that hill, there was a small village—Sabodala. Small and larger white huts were gathered around a rain-tree. It stood tall at the centre of the community. It is a tradition in some parts of West Africa to build villages around a tall majestic tree, which is supposed to bring prosperity to the villagers. Below the village, and nearly reaching the creek’s levees, Samir noticed three gaping holes, each the size of a small house. He wondered if those were mine adits.
The middle hill was partly denuded of vegetation. On the one side of it, a bench had been carved and levelled into a wide platform allowing enough space for Hjamal’s processing plant.
Samir lowered the aircraft close enough to count as many as three bulldozers and five trucks parked in a lane-way beside the plant. At the end of the lane-way, he saw two freight containers standing well away from the plant and the compound above. On the bench-like plateau, there were two rectangular buildings covered with corrugated iron sheets, and erected at the bottom end of a long line of heavy machinery and equipment, winding its way around the platform. In the middle of this boa of metal, an enormous trough filled with clean water reminded Samir of a lonely pond in a forest of incongruous giants.
Higher and closer to the crest of the hill, there was another group of huts aligned on either side of a centre road—presumably the mining camp.
Vegetation and trees covered the third hill entirely. At the bottom of it, on the stream’s embankment, Samir saw some cattle leisurely walk in a single file followed by a cattleman brandishing a long stick. The noise of the engines roaring overhead must have disturbed his stock. He wasn’t happy. Samir raised the plane and turned, once again heading for the landing strip. There, beyond the third hill he saw a long winding dirt road leading from the strip to the camp. At some point, it forked off in opposite directions to end on either side of the compound.
No one was in sight when the aircraft touched down. The attendant at the mining camp radio had promised to send a car to meet them. Yet nothing remotely resembling a vehicle of any sort was approaching their position.
Samir look out the side window. Not even a sight or a smell of a camel in this God forsaken place. He then turned off the engines and began filling out his flight report.
77
They got back to the hotel just in time to hear the phone ring.
Talya lunged to the phone and picked up the receiver. Mohammed rushed into the bedroom to listen to the conversation on the extension.
“Hello?” Talya took a deep breath.
“Hassan here. I’m finished …” His voice was incisive.
“How did it go? Did you find out anything?” Talya said with some impatience.
“Yes, I did. And I’ll tell you what it is if you’d stop interrupting.” That wasn’t incisive, that was darn right brusque. What’s got into him? “Umm … Hjamal couldn’t show me any proof of ownership of Sabodala. He doesn’t have any title, deed or any permit over the property. In fact, I’ve discovered that he’s illegally mining the land. I’ve also found out that large sums of money have been transferred from Mali into his account during the last few months, close to five hundred thousand dollars, to be precise. I’d say you’ve got your money back.” The bitterness in his voice was throwing dart at Talya’s thoughts.
“Wow!” she uttered, rallying a little while dread began to creep into her mind. “That’s great. How did you manage to get that last bit of info?”
“That’s for me to know, and for you never to find out,” he snapped.
What did he do? Talya immediately thought of an earlier conversation with Hassan: “Savoi is a menace; he’s got to be stopped.” She was hoping to God that Hassan hadn’t resorted to a form of blackmail to obtain that much information from Hjamal.
“Is Mohammed with you?” Hassan demanded.
“Yes. He’s listening on the extension.”
“Hi, Hassan, I’m here,” Mohammed joined in.
“Are you ready for this—both of you?”
“What? What have you been doing?” Mohammed jumped in before Talya could.
“Hjamal’s been playing both sides against the middle. He’s used not only Carmine’s funds but I’ve found some bank statements which show that some of Rheza’s estate has gone through Savoi’s bank to end up in Hjamal’s account.”
It took a while before Talya could say anything. Every inch of her froze in time and space. She heard Mohammed hang up and saw him come back to sit on the sofa. He put his head between his hands—he was crushed.
“Hassan, I’m sorry, but I think you’d better come back as soon as you can. We’ve got to talk about this. You’ve got to talk to Mohammed. Do you realize what you’ve just done? Your friend can’t even speak—”
“I know. I’ll be back soon. I’m outside Hjamal’s office. I’ll grab a cab and I’ll be there in a half-an-hour. Okay?”
“That’s fine. We’ll see you soon.” Talya hung up and went to sit beside Mohammed. She would’ve liked to give him a shot of cognac but she knew he wouldn’t take it. She didn’t know what to do.
A couple of minutes later Mohammed lifted his head. “Talya, I know it’s not over, not by a long shot, but at this point, I want to say what a wonderful lady you are.” Talya was embarrassed. “You knew all along the right thing to do. Allah shall be praised for sending you to Mali. I hope you’ll be coming back to my country some day under more auspicious circumstances.”
“As far as I can see, I’ve brought you grief since I’ve met you.”
“No, you didn’t.” Mohammed shook his head emphatically. “No. What you’ve done is open the door to the truth. You’ve made me see what I didn’t want to see. That’s why I’m indebted to you. We all knew what Amadou Savoi had done. We just didn’t want to admit it. And, even me with the position I occupy in government I wouldn’t do anything about it.”
“Well, whatever you say, I guess.” Talya was upset. “But your advice and guidance made my assignment all the more easy.”
Mohammed smiled and got to his feet. “I best be on my way. I’ll go to my room and call my daughter to see if everything is okay at home. Then, I think I’ll take a stroll before nightfall. In the meantime, let me know if you get a call from the mine, will you?”
“Of course, the minute I hear anything I’ll let you know. But don’t you want to wait here for Hassan?”
“No, Talya. Tell him to come and see me when you two finish talking. It’s best if we discuss this alone. You understand?”
“I’ll see you later then.”
He waved at her from down the hall and was gone.
Talya was baffled when she closed the door. She went to sit on the terrace to think of the repercussions that this latest news could have on Carmine’s relationship with Minorex. There had to be a way of recovering the funds and a way to return Rheza’s estate to investment status. She couldn’t think how at the moment. Her mind still trying to follow some convoluted financial pathways, she heard a knock at the door. She