Деон Мейер - Cobra

‘And that’s all?’

‘No. I . . . I asked him . . . how I would know if it is the right guy, and he said I shouldn’t worry, only a few people know I’m coming, so as long as the guy specifically asks for the card, I should give it to him. And then he again said, remember to test your phone, send the email, and go straight to the Waterfront, and wear something bright red. He thanked me again, and then he rang off.’

‘Did he transfer the money for the hotel?’

‘Yes.’

‘From his usual account?’ asked Cupido.

‘Actually, no. It was from his security name. Morris. And a bank in Zurich.’

‘I see,’ said Cupido, and he knew he had her.

‘Do you know which bank?’ asked Bones.

‘Well . . .I can check . . .’

‘Perhaps later,’ said Cupido. ‘OK. So what did you do? After the last call?’

‘I went shopping. For the trip. And then I took the Tube to Heathrow. And the flight was delayed. So I started worrying, will the guy still be there if I was late? But the delay was only twenty minutes, so I thought it would be OK. And when I arrived, I sent the email, and I changed two hundred pounds into rands in order to pay the cab, and then I took the cab, and I got to the Waterfront. And then I realised, I had to do something with my suitcase, I had no idea how far it was to this amphitheatre, and I didn’t want to lug the suitcase with me. So I spoke to the cab driver, and he said he’ll take it to the hotel for a hundred rand, which is like ten dollars, so I said OK. And after that, everything just went haywire.’

44

‘Could you tell us exactly what happened at the Waterfront?’ asked Cupido.

‘It happened so fast,’ she said, and shifted to the edge of her chair. ‘I asked the cab driver where the amphitheatre was, and he didn’t know, so there was this security guy, and I asked him, and he directed me. So I was walking, there were lots of people, which was a real surprise, so many white people, I mean, you know, you expect ... No offence, but you know, when you come to Africa . . . Anyway, so I saw the amphitheatre, and I was almost there, when this asshole started bugging me about a hairpin, and I was in a hurry, I was a little worried, because there had been no contact from Professor Adair, and I was about half an hour late because of the flight delay, and getting off the plane, I wasn’t thinking—’

‘Did you expect the professor to contact you?’ Cupido interrupted her deliberately. He could hear her anxiety from the quickening pace of her narrative, her rising tone. He thought this part was probably the truth, but she was providing unnecessary detail – he suspected that since yesterday she had been replaying the incident over and over in her mind, to try to make sense of it, to rationalise.

‘No, no, I mean, yeah, I suppose, sort of. Here I was, having fl own halfway around the world, I thought, maybe, if he got the email, he would call . . .’

‘And he didn’t contact you again?’

‘No.’

‘No email, nothing?’

‘No.’

‘Even after the Waterfront? This afternoon?’

‘No.’

‘But you are hoping he’ll call?’ Cupido pointed at her cellphone.

‘Well, you know, I got worried, after what happened . . .’ She flipped her hand palm upwards to emphasise that it was a natural response.

‘OK. Please continue.’

‘Right. So this guy is bugging me, and for a minute there, I thought he might be the guy, you know, for the card, and then he wasn’t. And I was thinking: David said, don’t talk to other people, it sort of . . . I think anybody, under the circumstances, would have felt . . . Look, I’m not stupid, but maybe I did get a little carried away with the whole clandestine thing, sort of cloak and dagger, you know, and I thought this guy might be, like, the enemy, a terrorist, you know? So I got a little panicky, and I tried to get rid of him, and the bastard stole my purse, and I didn’t even know it. So, the thief walks off, and I start jogging, I’m late, I can see the amphitheatre, I’m looking for the steps to the stage, but I’m still ten yards away, and the next thing I know, there’s this guy with a baseball cap and shades, and he’s really in my face, he says, “Do you have the card?” I mean, I’m not even near the steps yet, it’s right after the hairpin guy, I’m still a bit disoriented, I suppose, but he says, “Do you have the card?” and I’m sort of anxious, and I say, “But this is not where I’m supposed to give it to you.” I was . . . You have to understand, I was on the plane all night, thinking about what Da— Professor Adair had said I should do, I was all geared up, and I was expecting a . . . I’m really not racist, my granddaddy on my father’s side came from Mexico, so please, don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s just that I expected, you know, an English guy, a white guy—’

‘Miss Alvarez,’ Cupido interrupted her.

‘Yes?’

‘I want you to take a deep breath.’

She stared at him, not understanding. Then she took a deep breath, and said: ‘I was going a little fast, wasn’t I?’

‘That’s OK.’

‘And you don’t have to worry about expecting a white guy,’ said Bones. ‘We understand.’

‘Thank you.’ She sipped some more whisky, gave a small, self-conscious smile, and took another deep breath. ‘It’s just that, right then, it got really weird. I mean, this guy is all over me, he’s in my face, and he has this strange accent, and when I say, “But this is not where I’m supposed to give you the card,” the guy in the cap takes a gun from his pocket, with this black silencer, and he sticks it in my ribs, and there’s this commotion behind us, people giving little yelps, and I want to look, and . . .’

She realised she was talking too fast and too anxiously again, and she reined herself in. ‘Sorry,’ she said, taking another gulp of whisky. When she did continue, she was more measured. ‘. . . And I was completely freaked out and scared. And he says, “That man stole something from you, do you have the card? Look. Now.” And he looks over my shoulder at the commotion, and when I want to look, he jams the gun into my side again, and he says, “Look at me.” So I froze, I just completely froze. He grabbed my arm and he shook me, and he asked for the card again, and I stuck my hand in my handbag, and the purse was gone, and I thought I was going to faint I was so scared, and he said, “Do you have it?” and I said, “My purse is gone,” and then he said, “It was in the purse?” and I say, “Yes,” and he says, “Are you sure?” and I was busy looking in my bag, and I nodded, and I started to cry like a damned baby, and then he ran, and the next thing I know I’m just standing there, amongst all these people, and nobody knew what had just happened . . .’

Tyrone lied.

He had got his story right on the train, thought through everything he must say, just to be on the safe side.

He walked into the Cape Calm B & B in De Waterkant, wearing his new jacket, with his new little suitcase. He looked legit, he had checked that in the mirror of the men’s room at Cape Town Station. He had washed his face, combed his hair. OK, maybe he didn’t smell like a rose garden, but he was a traveller, after all.

He said to the Cape Calm B & B aunty, a kindly lady, of the type with the exaggerated friendliness that comes from white guilt: ‘Hi. My name is Jeremy Apollis,’ in his best white English. ‘I’d love to have a room for the night, OK, if I pay cash in advance?’

And Uncle Solly was right, the jacket was the ticket, and the cash in advance did not hurt, she came back daatlik with: ‘Of course, of course, where you from?’ He had that worked out too. ‘Johannesburg, but I’m from here originally. I lived up in Schotsche Kloof.’ He pronounced it ‘Scots kloef’, the way he heard English people say it.