‘Does the name “Khalid” mean anything to you?’
Tanveer looked puzzled. ‘No. Should it?’
‘He may have been the one seeing Mariam. Sure you don’t know the name?’
‘Where’s he from?’
‘Don’t worry. If you don’t know him, then leave it at that.’
‘But, if he was seeing Mariam . . . didn’t he . . .?’
‘I don’t know if we’ll ever know.’
‘Khalid. This is too painful for me. I will kill him.’
‘He’s already dead, Arshad. Looks like he killed himself.’
Tanveer’s face grimaced. ‘I would have killed him. I believe in revenge. My brother was killed in Kashmir. Revenge brings satisfaction and redemption.’
‘Not in my world, it doesn’t. It just brings more devastation and perpetuates the cycle. Sometimes you have to let go.’
A waiter appeared at the table as Durant’s phone rang. He listened and then put the phone in his pocket. ‘You’ll have to excuse me; something urgent’s just come up.’
Durant arrived home within ten minutes and found Stephanie on the phone in the kitchen. Alexis was watching Cartoon Network and Durant changed the channel to Discovery. ‘Watch something else, Lexi.’
‘It’s Destroyed in Seconds, Dad. I don’t like watching it.’
Durant switched the TV off. He had seen enough destruction lately. ‘Play in your room so long, I’m coming now, I just want to talk to Mom.’
‘She says Granny’s very sick.’
‘Really? Is she talking to Granny?’
Alexis nodded. ‘Put it back on cartoons, Dad, come on.’
Durant sighed, picked up the remote and put it back on Cartoon Network.
‘It’s Christmastime. Everybody’s so sad. Shouldn’t we be having fun?’ she asked.
‘We should be and we will. It’s just so much is happening right now, Mom and I haven’t—’
‘It’s the ship, isn’t it? The ship blew up, that’s why you’re busy.’
‘Have you been watching the news?’
‘Mom was. Me too, but just a little. I closed my eyes when they showed the dead people.’
‘Don’t watch that stuff, Lexi, please. Tell Mom not to let you watch.’
‘Why not? You say I mustn’t watch cartoons.’
‘I know, but not the news either. It’ll make you sad and scared.’
‘I am sad and scared. And I miss Mushkie Bear.’
‘Mushkie Bear’s here, my baby, don’t you worry. He’s just got a bearsized headache right now, but he’ll be fine again soon. Watch cartoons a bit.’
Stephanie replaced the receiver and she looked troubled. ‘Hi, darling, thanks for coming home. It’s Mom. She’s just going from bad to worse. The doctor says it’s Alzheimer’s.’
Durant put his arms around his wife. ‘But she’s not that old. Can it be?’
‘You don’t have to be old, apparently. She’s got all the symptoms.’
‘But so suddenly? A few weeks ago she seemed fine.’
‘Well, forgetful, but it’s got worse quickly, very quickly. I don’t know what to do. She’s in that big house all by herself . . . I’m worried, Kevin.’
Durant was worried too. ‘Well, I don’t know. What do you think?’
‘Maybe we should move her in here for a while. Sell her house, build a granny flat.’
Durant hitched himself up onto the countertop. ‘But we’re busy planning on leaving here. You’ve convinced me to go and now you’re making plans for us to stay.’ He frowned. ‘What is this now?’
‘She looked after me all my life; I can’t just abandon her. I need to care for her, make sure she’ll be okay.’
‘She’ll need to be looked after. I’m sure we can get her the best treatment, a nice frail-care home where they’ll look after her.’
Stephanie’s hands went to her hips. ‘I can’t do that to her. I can’t just hand her over to strangers. That would be cruel.’
Durant nodded. ‘It would be. Sorry, what was I thinking?’ He smiled. ‘I guess I was just so focused on moving to New Zealand.’
‘Well, that might not happen now. Perhaps we can take her, or . . . I don’t know.’
‘The medicals are hectic. I don’t think they’ll let her in.’ Durant tried hard to hide his lack of disappointment.
Stephanie rolled her eyes. ‘Well, I’m sure you’ll be happy to stay.’
‘And the crime?’
‘There’s crime everywhere. We’ll handle it.’
‘So I don’t need to certify my degree certificates then?’
‘We’re not going.’
Durant smiled. He didn’t even know where his degree certificates were.
‘Come in, gentlemen,’ Masondo said, manoeuvring his wheelchair back from his desk and motioning to Durant and Shabalala to sit down. The doctor had booked him off work for six weeks when he’d left the hospital at 11 that morning. He got the taxi to drop him at the office. ‘I’ll deal with you later, Mr Shabalala, about other matters; right now I want to update you on what I have.’
Shabalala seemed to slide into the chair as if it had been electrified and Durant couldn’t help a smile.
‘Things are moving fast. That’s why I’m here, against my doctor’s orders. And my doctor is also my daughter, so it’s doubly bad. Hear me out. The Americans move fast on things like this, as you know. It seems like they’ve changed their entire Homeland Defence programme just to focus on this act that came to our shores two days ago. This is what they’ve given to us: a package of commercial explosives was detonated by cellphone at exactly 20:30 in a ventilation trunking on the deck next to and below the reception area. This caused a secondary explosion of an ammunition magazine in the landing craft well which destroyed the magazine and smashed into the reception area or the helicopter hangar.’ Masondo paused for a moment. ‘Secondary fires broke out, but these were brought under control by the ship’s firefighting and damage-control crews. The explosives footprint is the same as that of the ATM bombers – commercial type. Also the same as the type found in Mohammed’s room at the IAC. Now they’re busy tracing the origin of the call that triggered the cellphone detonator to identify a number.’
‘Wow,’ Durant said. ‘Maybe Mohammed is the guy.’
‘Don’t jump the gun, Mr Durant. Don’t assume anything. Get back to your sources and tell me who did this thing. Every time I move, my leg hurts, so I’m reminded every minute of the day how badly I want people to be arrested for this terrible deed. South Africans are looking to us, colleagues, not the Americans, to find answers. Bring me the answers.’
‘We’ll do our best, sir.’
‘That’s what I expect. You can go, Kevin. You, Mr Shabalala, stay.’
Durant looked at Shabalala and stood up.
‘Thanks, have a great day.’ It wasn’t meant to sound facetious, he really meant it.
Shabalala doubted his day would be good. It felt like he was about to be executed.
Masondo rocked backwards and forwards in his wheelchair and didn’t look at Shabalala.
‘When I was lying in that burning ship and I thought I might die, the cogs started turning in my head. I thought about my life and about my daughter and about things in general and I said to myself, “Alfred Masondo, you worry too much.” That’s what I said to myself, I remember it clearly. There was smoke and fire and my leg hurt, but I remember thinking life is short and I need to let go.’ Masondo seemed uncharacteristically uncomfortable for a brief moment. ‘I just wanted to say, well, don’t close yourself off to the idea of getting to know Nandi better, if you choose to, I mean, don’t let me stand in your way.’
Somebody turned the current in the chair off and Shabalala felt his muscles relax. ‘Thanks, sir, I mean, I’ll certainly not, um, close myself off to the idea.’
‘You know I just felt sometimes I came across a little intimidating and disapproving.’
‘No, sir, not at all, not intimidating at
all.’
‘Disapproving, then. When I saw her arrive at the hospital with you, I know, this is going to sound ridiculous, you almost looked like a couple.’ Masondo laughed and Shabalala had to laugh too.
‘Well, I’d love to get to know Nandi better, sir, with your permission, of course.’
‘Now, you see, you don’t need my permission. Shabalala, that’s the whole point of this conversation. You don’t need my approval. If you want to see my daughter, it’s between the two of you, I won’t interfere.’
‘Of course not, sir. I mean, of course I’d like to have your approval though.’
‘Shabalala, now you’re annoying me. I just said you don’t need my approval. If you want to see her, you phone her, you say nice things, you maybe bring her some flowers, and then you arrange to take her for coffee. You dress up, wash your car, you arrive at my house, you fetch her. I won’t even come downstairs. Well, I can’t anyway with the wheelchair. It’s a long process.’
‘I would think so, sir. Well, thank you for the offer of, um, your daughter.’
‘For heaven’s sake, I’m not offering her, Shabalala. I’m just saying—’
‘I know what you’re saying, sir. You’re letting her go.’
Masondo felt his eyes burning and he clenched his teeth. ‘Get out of here, Mr Shabalala. You know what to do.’
Shabalala closed the door behind him and had only walked two metres when Durant grabbed his arm and said ‘Debriefing. My office. Now.’
‘He what?’ Durant shook his head. ‘I thought it was only his leg that was injured. Perhaps he should go back for a brain scan. He’s okay with you and Nandi? I’m not even sure I’m okay with it!’
‘Shut up, wise guy, keep your voice down. He’s given me his blessing, that’s all.’
‘Don’t you think it’s strange getting his blessing now, after he inhaled all those poisonous gases? Clearly, he’s not okay.’
‘Kevin, just shut up. He said if I want to pursue her, he’s okay with it. I mean, that’s what I’ve always wanted.’
‘So you’re out the closet now, so as to speak?’
‘What? Of course not. He mustn’t know we’re already seeing each other. I’ve got to dress up, wash the car, buy some flowers, go over to her house and take her for coffee.’
‘Take her— are you out of your mind? You’re way past coffee. You’re on the cheese and biscuits already.’
‘I’m not sure I like what you’re implying. Look, Kevin, I want to do this right. I need his approval. You know it’s not sustainable without it.’
‘Maybe not even with it. What do you want me to do?’
‘Nothing. Don’t do anything. Let’s focus on this investigation and wait for the dust to settle.’
‘Don’t you think he might come to his senses when the painkillers wear off?’
‘Very funny. He means it. Nandi and I’ll play the courting, nervous first date couple a few times, and then in a month or two, we’ll announce we’re going out.’
Durant shook his head and exhaled. ‘Brother, you’re playing a dangerous game. But I’ve got your back.’
Berkeley helped Masondo move his wheelchair into a comfortable position behind the restaurant table. He noticed she looked drained. In a short space of time, every foreign diplomat’s worst nightmare had come true for her. A terrorist attack on American soil – on her watch. Half the federal government was probably on her back and all eyes were on her.
‘I’m sorry to bring you out to this meeting, Mr Masondo, but I felt I had to share the latest information with you because I’m not sure how much you’re getting at the moment.’
‘We have our assets working on this case night and day, ma’am. Our people have prioritised this incident and we’re all working twenty-four hours. And we’ll keep working twenty-four hours until we’ve found the people who did this.’
‘We are grateful for the cooperation. I’m sure you’ll get an official heads-up on the latest developments, but I thought I’d sneak this to you so long because sometimes the official channels are a little slow.’
‘Thanks, Ms Berkeley. I have to agree. Bureaucratic systems often work against operational realities.’
‘Indeed, yes. Well, our teams have arrived in record time and we’ve made some progress. The good news is the detonating cell was recovered and the forensics folks have extracted the SIM card and identified the number.’
‘In three days? That is unbelievable.’
‘We come into our own at times like this. We have guys who were born for these situations with really smart minds and stateoftheart equipment. That’s why we get answers quickly. I won’t show you the technical mumbo jumbo, but what the investigators found was that a call was made to that detonating cellphone at exactly 20:30 from Sheikh U-Haq’s phone.’
Masondo leaned forward, felt a pain in his leg, and leaned back again. ‘You sure? He activated the bomb?’
‘The activation came from his phone. Whether it was him or not we can’t say yet.’
Masondo looked down at the table and nodded. ‘I saw the sheikh receive a call at around that time and then make a call.’
‘Yeah, we also got a report like that. One of our security fellows saw the sheikh take a call and then write down a number, which he then dialled. So that confirms it.’
‘If it was him, how did he get the bomb onto the ship?’
‘We’re still working up some theories on that. The ATF team arrived from Kenya yesterday and they’ve made good progress. The initial blast was not more than one kilogram of Powergel. On its own, this explosion wouldn’t have caused as much damage – just localised damage. Unfortunately it was placed, either deliberately or accidentally, in a highly critical part of the ship where the secondary explosion caused the bulk of the damage. The ATF investigators are looking at a theory which suggests the bomb was placed in a vent in the helicopter hangar and it slid one deck down in the ventilation trunking to an area adjacent to the magazine store. Someone obviously studied the layout of the ship very carefully. Perhaps someone with marine engineering knowledge.’
A waitress brought menus and there was a moment’s silence. ‘How did it get past the screening?’ Masondo asked in a hushed tone.
‘We’re not sure yet. We’re thinking maybe one of the crew brought it on board. That would explain the clever placement. Also we had the reception area checked for explosives two hours before the event started and the dogs found nothing substantive.’
‘So they did find something?’
‘It’s a warship, Mr Masondo. The problem was the dogs kept finding trace elements, and the Helo Hangar would obviously have traces of explosives because of the armaments. They would have found the bomb if it had been there, because that was a big quantity, but they didn’t because the bomb was already one deck down. They didn’t bother taking the dogs down there because the area’s full of explosives ordnance. The dogs would have given false alarms.’
The waitress returned. Masondo ordered a double whisky and told a smiling Berkeley it was part of his pain-relief regime. She ordered a cider and the waitress left. ‘So are we saying one person put the bomb on board and a second person detonated it?’ he asked. ‘It wasn’t possible for the sheikh to take the bomb on board?’
‘Definitely not. But it seems his phone definitely detonated it.’
Masondo’s voice was a near-whisper. The smoke inhalation had made talking loudly painful. ‘We mustn’t let the press get hold of this yet.’
‘I agree. We’ll have to say something soon though. People want answers. They need someone to blame.’
‘I know. But as soon as we say “Islamic extremism” we open something up that has major implications and consequences. We need to be sure.’ Masondo’s words had become raspy. Even the whisper was becoming painful. The whisky arrived and he took a large swig.
Berkeley had lowered her voice too. The restaurant wasn’t busy but there was a couple at a far table that looked across at them periodical
ly. ‘Remember we did get a threat. The threat was from an Islamist and it was possibly from someone at the IAC. Then you identify someone at the centre with Powergel wrappings in his room and messages of jihad on his laptop. Now we have the sheikh detonating the explosion. I’m sorry to sound like a fool, but all fingers are pointing towards Islamic extremism. It’s got the AQ signature.’
‘My guys need some time to investigate these things. We have assets that can help.’ The whisky was a third done.
‘Within the next twenty-four hours, our president is going to have to make a statement on who’s responsible if no one claims responsibility.’
‘Thank you, twenty-four hours is good.’
Durant shook his head and tossed the newspaper onto the passenger seat. He drove to the office angry and met an equally irate Shabalala in the parking garage.
‘Somebody’s leaking,’ he said. ‘This idiot journalist Julian Dos Santos is reporting that Islamic extremists were responsible for the blast. Did you read the paper?’
‘I saw the poster. The headline said it all.’
‘I know. He’s implying the sheikh’s involved without saying it in so many words. Listen to this: “Impeccable sources report that the authorities have confirmed that Sheikh U-Haq of the Islamic Africa Centre made a call from his cellphone at the exact time of the blast which subsequently killed him and twenty-two other people in the worst . . .” blah blah blah. “Jihadists are known to detonate improvised explosive devices using remote cellphone detonators.” Just fill in the missing pieces and you have the sheikh taking the blame. This is exactly what terrorism thrives on – now we’ll see some poor Muslim shop owner in London having his shop burnt down.’
‘I know. And it won’t end there. Where did Dos Santos get that info?’
‘From an “impeccable source”. That can only mean one thing. Someone close to the investigation, us or the Americans. This is sabotage and it’s going to slow us down.’
‘So what now? What do you think really happened?’
‘This is my theory, Ced. Somebody finds out the American diplomat, Khalid, is having an affair with Mariam. Khalid’s responsible for security at the US Mission, so he’s got brilliant access. He would’ve been the perfect person to blackmail so that these people could have got information on the visit by the Assistant Secretary and the ship.’
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