Деон Мейер - Cobra

And then David Adair happened.

She only realised much later that he was actually twenty-five years older than she was. He could have been her father (said with the easy irony and self-mockery of someone who had verbalised it before). But it was never relevant, because their souls were equally old. She said that twice.

They couldn’t stop talking. About mathematics, about the world, about life. About people and their ways. About food. Did they know he was a foodie? He was a good cook too, at weekends he prepared them the most delicious meals, just the two of them, Chopin on the hi-fi, the Sunday papers, a good bottle of French wine, and David busy over the cooking pots.

But that was later. She guarded her love for him closely. Thought it was one-sided. It took him nearly two months to confess that he had ‘feelings’ for her.

She relived it all with a strong voice, with the self-confidence that it was good and right, clearly also trying to portray him as a true gentleman: he had asked her to drive with him, please. He took her to a restaurant in Huntingdon, he didn’t want to do this in his office where the power balance of lecturer and student reigned. He bought her lunch. They finished eating. His face grew suddenly serious. He said he had thought over the matter for a long time, but he could no longer remain silent. He had feelings for her. She wanted to respond in jubilation, she said his name, and he stopped her with a hand on hers. He said, please, let him finish. He was sincerely sorry. He would absolutely understand if she wanted to change supervisor. He would help her to make the change, he would take responsibility, he would explain that his schedule had become too full. There would be no embarrassment for her. But his feelings were so strong that sooner or later he was going to do something stupid. That was why he was telling her now, before he humiliated himself and put her in an impossible situation.

‘And when he was done, I said, “David, I love you very much”.’

While Mbali tried to get the best possible descriptions of the four ‘Frenchmen’ out of Nadia Kleinbooi, Griessel walked out into the hospital corridor and phoned the colonel. He explained what had happened. That there was a chance that the Cobras were still in the Cape, and that they still hadn’t got what they were looking for. And that David Adair might still be alive.

Nyathi was businesslike, and Griessel wondered if someone was there with him. ‘Let’s meet as soon as you’re back, Benny.’

‘Yes, sir.’

He stood in the corridor and tried to process that odd feeling – half an hour ago he was resigned to the fact that the Cobras were going to get away. Now there was a chance.

Tyrone Kleinbooi had bought them time. How much, he didn’t know.

And the chances were slim. To track someone down quickly in this city, someone with false passports, who took professional precautions, who did not want to be found, was well-nigh impossible.

But there was another possibility. The chances were marginally better.

It depended on what Nadia could remember.

He took a deep breath and walked back into the ward to go and ask his questions.

Cupido thought she was a kwaai smart girl, so pretty, but emotionally so immature. Still he said nothing, let her tell the whole story. Alvarez said she and David Adair agreed to keep their affair secret until she attained her degree. Because, although they were both adults, morally unencumbered and not involved with third parties, a relationship between a middle-aged lecturer and a much younger student remained a serious and thorny problem in the corridors of academia. In addition, he was the DAMTP study leader who could best support her with her specific thesis. The most logical alternative was a transfer to another university, but neither of them wanted that. He insisted on the appointment of a fourth external examiner for her degree, and got one from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. So that no fingers could be pointed when she graduated in a year and a half, and their relationship became public.

And then there were serious problems from what she described as ‘his position’: on the one hand, his work with highly secret anti-terrorism algorithms, and on the other hand, his protests against the British and European authorities and the banking industry. The ‘position’ meant that for security reasons he was watched like a hawk, but also that different factions would very much like to shut him up, muzzle and control him, should they get the right sort of ammunition.

‘What factions?’ Bones interrupted her for the first time.

She answered quickly. Her haste, the tone of her voice betrayed something again. ‘Well, politicians, to start with. He had been fairly vocal in his opposition of privacy intrusion, and had been publicly criticising the government for not going far enough in fighting organised crime, for instance. Then there’s organised crime itself. You should see the threats he received . . .’

‘What threats?’ asked Cupido.

‘Death threats.’

‘From whom?’

‘They didn’t exactly sign their names, but he knew it was from people in organised crime. He just laughed it off as scare tactics, and posturing. He said they would not dare, because if they killed him, the government would be forced to act. So it wasn’t in the Mafia’s interest to carry it out.’

‘Anybody else? The factions, I mean.’

‘Just every terrorist organisation in the world, of course . . . You know . . . You can imagine, I’m sure. Anyway, a lot of factions, so we had to be very careful with our relationship.’

‘I don’t think you’re telling us everything,’ said Cupido.

‘I swear I’m telling you everything.’

He let it go for now.

‘So you had to be very secretive in your relationship.’

‘Very.’

‘How did you know which bank he usually used?’

‘David would transfer money for a plane or train ticket to Brussels or Paris or Zurich, for me to spend a weekend with him.’

‘OK, getting back to the past week, could you now tell us the whole truth?’

‘There really isn’t all that much to say that will make a difference. I lied about last seeing him at the department Thursday a week ago. We actually spent that following Sunday in Ipswich, and much of the Monday night in my apartment. David left just after twelve o’clock that night . . .’

‘Where did he go?’

‘To his place. That’s why I was so surprised when I went to see him at the office the next morning – we had an official appointment – and he wasn’t there. I mean, he always told me if he had to travel. But he did mention that it might happen, you know, with all his responsibilities, that he might be called away at short notice. So I wasn’t really worried then. But when there was no contact for four days . . . We’ve never been apart for that long . . .’

‘But you had no idea where he was?’

‘No.’

‘And the call on Monday morning?’

‘OK, that wasn’t the first call. David called me last Friday night, at about eleven. It was a very short, hurried call. He just said he was fine, he had to rush off on security business, and he might be away for a while. And he said I mustn’t tell anybody that he had called.’

‘That’s it?’

‘He did say he loved me. That’s it.’

‘And the Monday morning call, the early one?’

‘It happened almost like I told you. I did ask him where he was, and said that I had been worried, and he replied that he understood, but it’s his anti-terror work, he can’t talk about it, and everything is fine. But he said that he needed my help. And then he told me about coming to Cape Town.’

‘Nothing else?’

‘Before he rang off, I told him that I loved him. And he said he loved me too. But . . .’ She shook her head slightly, as if she was unsure.