An Ordinary Day

by Trevor Corbett

  Suddenly there was a loud thud on the audio feed. The bedroom door opened and Salem exited, fully dressed and carrying a briefcase in his hand. He paused in the passageway as if he was looking for something, then walked up to the dining room table and picked up the object wrapped in the dishcloth. Finally Durant identified it as the bronze Zulu figurine. Using a handkerchief, Salem carefully placed it on the sideboard next to the table, then stashed the dish-towel and handkerchief in his briefcase. He looked around briefly and then walked towards the door leading to the garage. Anja reported that the garage door was opening and both hired cars were parked inside. Durant saw Salem walk through the door leading to the garage and close it behind him. Seconds later, Anja reported that the replacement hired car that had been delivered to Elhasomi was reversing out of the garage.

  Durant was confused. ‘Confirm the male is driving the female’s car?’ he said into the radio.

  ‘Confirmed. His car is parked, he’s using her car. Do you want us to take him, over?’

  Durant put his head in his hands and closed his eyes so tightly they hurt. He knew he had only seconds to decide whether the surveillance unit should monitor Salem or remain on the townhouse and wait for Elhasomi to leave.

  ‘Groundcrew, Kiteman, confirm target, over.’

  ‘Uh, negative, Groundcrew. Stand by, hold position, copy?’

  ‘Copy that, Kiteman.’

  The hired car drove slowly up the street to the intersection, turned left and disappeared. Had he made the right decision? Durant wondered. Whatever, it was too late to change it.

  8

  Ali looked around nervously as a warm wind blew dry sea sand over his polished shoes. He had chosen the meeting place – an abandoned storage facility for disused shipping containers. When Elhasomi had phoned him the previous night to set up the meeting, he’d described the meeting place as central, but remote. That it was. Surrounded by the sea on the eastern side, and a high brick wall around the rest of the perimeter, the port operations, which virtually surrounded the facility, were all but invisible. There was an eerie quietness about the place, and the sight of rusted and open containers brought a sense of abandonment and desolation to the facility. It felt like a graveyard.

  Ali heard a vehicle approaching slowly, and his spirits lifted when he noticed it was the vehicle Elhasomi had described to him. He stepped out from the shadow of a container and waved at the car. His arm hung uncertainly in the air momentarily as he saw that the driver of the vehicle was not Elhasomi, but a man. The car stopped close to him and the driver stepped out. ‘As Salaam,’ he said, and Ali smiled.

  ‘As Salaam, my friend. I was expecting a lady.’ His eyes darted to the back seat of the car where he could clearly see the large suitcase.

  ‘I’m the delivery boy,’ Salem said. ‘The lady was unable to make it.’

  ‘I see you’ve brought what I need to make the business work,’ Ali said, motioning towards the suitcase.

  Salem nodded. ‘I said I’m the delivery boy. I’ve got something else to deliver.’

  Ali frowned and then smiled nervously. ‘What’s that, my friend?’

  ‘Your heart rate’s increasing. Your blood pressure’s elevating. Small amounts of perspiration are appearing on your forehead. Do you know why?’

  ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, my friend. Now can we do business or must I phone your boss?’

  ‘This is business, Mr Ali, and my boss isn’t available right now. She’s got a sore head.’

  ‘Ah. A sore head?’

  ‘Do you know what bio-regulators are?’

  Ali shook his head.

  ‘They’re the natural organic chemicals in your body that regulate cell processes. They control your heart rate, blood pressure, temperature and immune processes.’

  Ali wiped his perspiring brow with a crumpled handkerchief. ‘Is this a biology lesson?’

  ‘Do you know that bio-regulators can be exploited and modified artificially to attack your own body from the inside? That’s the ultimate betrayal, if you think about it. The ultimate weapon. Get a person’s own body to attack him.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this? I must go.’

  ‘I’m not done yet, Mr Ali. Can you believe that there are evil people who sit in laboratories and deliberately tamper with these natural, God-given substances and turn them into weapons of warfare?’

  ‘I’m a businessman. That’s none of my concern.’

  ‘It should be your concern, Ali. What do you think the Libyans want the fermenters for? Growing mushrooms?’

  ‘I don’t know who you are, but I’m leaving right now.’

  ‘You came for the cash, and now you want to leave without it?’

  ‘Who are you, sir?’ Ali’s mouth was dry and he could hear his own heartbeat.

  ‘These commodities you move around the world – have you ever wondered about the consequences? Do you even have a conscience, Mr Ali?’

  ‘I’m just a facilitator. I don’t advise on how the products should be used.’

  Salem looked incredulous. ‘The products? You speak of them as if they’re hair-care products. These products kill people. You supply them.’

  Ali smiled. ‘If I don’t, somebody else will. Anyway, pests need to be exterminated.’

  ‘You’re happy to allow children to breathe in genetically modified bio-regulators that cause their hearts to slowly stop beating? Cause their brains to shut down?’

  ‘Do the Americans who work at the factory which makes M16 rifles ever think about the children the Marines will kill in Afghanistan?’

  ‘Your analogy isn’t valid. An M16 rifle never killed masses of people indiscriminately. And a bullet is a quick death.’

  ‘I’ve just remembered.’ Ali smiled. ‘Now I know who you are. Salem. You came with Elhasomi.’

  Salem didn’t flinch. ‘I want you to think carefully now, Ali. Who will the Libyans use this weapon against? South Africa? Not likely. Egypt? Never. What about Israel? What about the Jews? That would be a more likely target wouldn’t it? How am I doing?’

  Ali felt the stirrings of fear, a feeling he hadn’t felt in years. He put a hand on the shipping container to steady himself. ‘What do you want from me?’

  ‘I was born in the Lebanon. I lived amongst good Muslim people as a child. My best friends were Arabs; we played together under the cedars, I spoke Arabic fluently, learnt the cultures, participated in the politics. In those days, life was much less complicated. I didn’t think being Jewish really mattered that much; nobody really looked at me any differently. I spoke like them, dressed like them, I was one of them.’

  Ali looked over his shoulder briefly.

  ‘Looking for the big ugly guy in the suit and dark glasses? The guy who was carrying this?’

  Salem slid a silenced 9mm pistol from under his jacket. ‘He gave it to me, sort of. Good protection is hard to get these days, isn’t it? Your guy won’t need the gun where he’s going.’

  Ali had the urge to sink to his knees, but his pride held him upright.

  ‘I have a great respect for Muslims. Most of them are honourable and peace-loving. The ones who are bitter and militant sometimes even have a good reason to be that way.’

  Ali didn’t look up. Salem’s eyes were too cold for him to bear, the muzzle of the 9mm too hard.

  ‘Please, Mr Salem. I’m not as evil as you make out. I’ve never harmed anyone. I’m just a businessman.’

  ‘I’ve spent less than a quarter of my life in Israel,’ Salem continued. ‘I was happy to be used wherever I could change things for the better. When I was young, I thought the differences between us weren’t important. I thought, as a child, we could work things out, as children do. But there’s too much hatred. There are too many who wish to see Israel simply disappear as if there never was a Jewish state and a Jewish people. I couldn’t let that happen. I promised myself that I would make my country safe for my children and my children’s children, whatever the cost.’

/>   Ali looked up into Salem’s eyes for a faint sign of compassion. He only saw determination and steadfastness, which terrified him.

  ‘Elhasomi,’ Ali stammered, ‘you came with Elhasomi.’

  Salem’s eyes narrowed marginally. ‘That doesn’t matter to you now.’

  ‘No, no, wait! You’re staying in the townhouse in Morningside with her. I know something about the house. Let me go and I’ll phone you with the information, something very valuable to you. What’s your mobile number?’ Ali half-turned, looked at the pistol pointed at him, remembered he’d always encouraged Anwar to load devastating hollow-point rounds into the magazine, and stood still. He wished Mojo hadn’t taken the day off. Mojo wouldn’t have let himself be disarmed.

  Salem laughed. ‘Ali, I told you none of that matters now.’

  ‘The police – everyone – they’ve got your townhouse wired up. They know all about you; they’ll find you. I’m the only one who can help you.’

  ‘You die with a lie in your mouth.’

  The silenced pistol made two soft thuds and Ali stood still momentarily, head bowed, then fell forward into the dust.

  Durant was growing impatient. It was now afternoon and there had still been no movement in the house. Amina phoned in to say she had met Mrs Meer at the shop in Prospecton, but she reported nothing interesting. Shezi also called to say that he was making some progress in the investigation into wine exporters and importers and Salem’s company in Malta. Amina relieved him at around ten and he visited Stephanie at the hospital for an hour. She was sedated and he wondered if she even knew he was there. He returned to the van at lunchtime and Amina asked if she could take the afternoon off because she wanted to have coffee with Ahmed and sort out some personal issues. She’d barely left when his cellphone rang and an unidentified number appeared.

  ‘Hello?’

  A male voice answered. ‘Who is this?’

  Durant never gave his name until he knew who he was speaking to. ‘Who are you looking for?’

  ‘Do you know a Leila Elhasomi?’

  ‘Who’s calling?’ he asked.

  ‘Sir, it’s Inspector Heath from the South African Police Services. I have in my hand a card with your cell number on it which was in Miss Elhasomi’s possession.’

  Durant stood up. ‘Okay, Inspector, is Miss Elhasomi in trouble?’

  ‘I would say so, sir. I’m standing next to her.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Umgeni River. Opposite the bird park.’

  ‘What?’ Durant almost shouted into the phone. ‘It can’t be. She’s at home.’

  ‘Sir, we found some documents on her, a passport and a card with your number on it. Do you know her?’

  Durant realised he was gripping the phone. The temperature in the monitoring van was reaching a level the air-conditioning unit was never designed to cope with. Durant’s knees felt weak, and he reached backwards for his chair and sat down.

  ‘Is she okay?’

  ‘Sir, she’s dead.’

  ‘Inspector Heath, I’ll call you back in five minutes.’

  Durant threw the cellphone on the desk and wheeled his chair to the videotape he had taken out of the video machine earlier in the morning. He thrust it into the slot and nervously tapped his fingers on the desk as the tape rewound. It took him less than a minute to find the spot. The time imprinted on the tape was 23:47. Durant unconsciously remembered Amina had stopped monitoring in real time at 22:13 when her husband had threatened to lock her out of her apartment if she didn’t come home immediately. The cameras had, however, captured what Amina had missed.

  The images showed Elhasomi coming downstairs in her jeans and a black T-shirt. Salem’s voice could be heard from the bedroom, indistinctly saying something. Elhasomi continued to the kitchen, holding her head with one hand, and sat down at the kitchen table. Salem descended the stairs and put his hands on her shoulders, gently massaging them.

  ‘My darling, what’s wrong?’ Salem’s voice was strained.

  ‘My head is paining. And I am worried about something.’

  Salem turned a kitchen chair around and sat facing Elhasomi. ‘Don’t worry about the accident; it will be taken care of.’

  ‘Do you love me?’ Elhasomi asked, looking into Salem’s eyes, still cradling her head in her arms.

  ‘What kind of question is that? Of course I do, Leila, you know I do.’

  She nodded slowly and looked down. Elhasomi’s eyes glistened and Durant thought he could see a tear running down her cheek.

  Salem put his hand under her chin and lifted her head. Her eyes, shrouded in tears, met his. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘I let you in. I opened the gate and let you behind the walls where my heart is.’ Elhasomi bit her bottom lip and wiped her eyes with her fingers.

  ‘Yes. You told me you did.’

  ‘I trusted you. I thought I would be safe. And now I know I am not.’

  ‘What do you mean, why are you saying this?’

  Elhasomi looked up at Salem. ‘I know today I will die by your hand.’

  She shook her head and then stood up suddenly and turned her back on him. He stood up too, and started walking around the table to her. She turned around. Her hand was stretched out in front of her, clenched, and now there was a determined and angry expression on her face. Salem hesitated, then backed off to the other side of the table. ‘What’s this all about?’

  Elhasomi’s voice was stern and sombre. ‘I was a fool. I trusted you with my heart, and you have betrayed me.’

  Salem shook his head. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ He stumbled back into the sideboard, knocking over the bronze Zulu figurine. He picked it up and absently held it by its wooden base. ‘You have been everything I have ever wanted. What’s wrong? Why are you saying these things?’

  Elhasomi stood motionless, her hand still stretched out in front of her, still clenched.

  ‘You do not know me, Ben Salem. If you knew me, you would have been more careful. You would not have opened my suitcases. You would not have lied to me. You would not have travelled to South Africa with this in your bag.’ She turned her clenched fist over and then opened her hand to reveal a dull metal object in her palm.

  Salem stared at it, his face expressionless. But somehow Durant could feel the rage behind the expression as he watched.

  ‘Only a Jew would have a chai … What does it bring you? Good luck?’

  ‘It’s symbolic of life. Jewish people love life. I’m sure you find it hard to believe.’

  Elhasomi nodded slowly. ‘You are a … Jew.’

  Salem smiled. ‘You say it as if I have some disease. Yes, I’m Jewish, and yes, I love life and everything it brings. It brought me a beautiful daughter who loved life too before hatred of Jewish people took her away.’

  ‘You …’

  ‘And it brought me you, Leila. It brought someone into my life to love and care for, someone who taught me how to live again, love again, believe again. You’ve taught me there are Muslims and Arabs whose lives don’t revolve around hatred and killing. The fact that I’m a Jew doesn’t change the way I feel about you.’

  Elhasomi took a step forward, her eyes narrowed and menacing. ‘You pig. You used me. You think things can still be the same?’

  Salem looked down silently.

  There was a little pause, then Elhasomi said ‘Who are you? Mossad? One of the Zionist hit squads? You were sent to kill me?’

  Salem shook his head. ‘Our first meeting. When I met you in Valetta, it was all planned. The Brazilian, the American, all plants to force you towards me.’

  ‘I fell into your trap, right into it.’

  ‘I knew you were Libyan intelligence. I knew you were involved in procuring weapons of mass destruction.’

  ‘It was not a love affair. It was an … operation.’

  ‘I’d done my homework. Your hatred for Israel and her people was clear in my mind and I wanted to kill you before I met you. Then I met yo
u.’

  ‘No, stop speaking, stop it.’ Durant watched her cry.

  ‘You were vulnerable and lonely, professional, passionate. Falling in love with you was never part of the plan. I had no control over my feelings for you; perhaps as you lost control too. If I’d wanted to kill you, I could have killed you that night we met when you climbed into my car.’

  Elhasomi’s face was drawn and she wrung her hands. She shook her head slowly at everything Salem said. ‘You are lying, everything you say is lies.’

  Salem took a step closer to her and stretched his hand out. ‘Don’t let your mind play tricks with your heart. You’re thinking like a politician, like an activist, like an intelligence officer. Think like a woman for a moment. Listen to what your heart is saying.’

  ‘No! I cannot bear to look at you.’

  ‘Your heart knows the truth. Your heart must win this battle, Leila, because if your mind wins, you’ll never be free.’

  Elhasomi closed her eyes and her bottom lip began to tremble. ‘I am free,’ she said quietly.

  ‘There’s no freedom in hatred. We love each other, despite our differences, despite our different worldviews and perceptions and prejudices. Love is stronger than all of that.’

  Salem stepped forward and put his left hand on her shoulder. With his right he brought the figurine down violently against the side of her head.

  Elhasomi looked straight ahead of her for a moment, then her legs appeared to buckle beneath her. She reached out her hands to Salem for support, but he let her fall awkwardly onto the mat.

  Durant saw Salem take a towel from a drawer and wrap it around Elhasomi’s head, over the area where the object had impacted. He wrapped a cloth around the figurine and put it on the kitchen table.

  Durant gasped as he witnessed the blow, and he raised his hands to his head as if he had been bludgeoned with the object. With a hand over his open mouth, Durant stared at the monitor as Salem dragged the motionless woman to the garage door on the mat on which she had fallen. He disappeared for a few moments. Durant watched in shock over the next seven minutes as Salem came back into the house, carried the three suitcases to the garage, and then followed with another suitcase. Salem went upstairs to the bedroom and there was silence.