Shabalala knew it. He wanted to solve this case more than anything. ‘I’ll brief Ruslan on this thing and see if he’s picked up anything at the centre. If there’re people involved there, he should come to hear of it.’
Masondo shook his head and slipped his finger under his collar. It was hot in his office. ‘I’m worried about that source’s last report. He says the sheikh’s a lamb and might be cooperating with the West. Will he cooperate and at the same time allow people at the centre to plot an attack? This whole thing doesn’t make sense to me. You need to explain it.’
‘I hear you, Mr Masondo. We’re trying to figure out the relationship between the sheikh and the guy in the
BMW
. Once we’ve confirmed that, we’ll be in a better position to understand what’s motivating the sheikh.’
‘Fine. Just make all this happen fast, we can’t afford any more big bangs in this province.’
Shabalala led the way into his office and motioned to Durant to sit down.
‘What have we got?’ he asked.
Durant gazed inquisitively at the hourglass on Shabalala’s desk.
‘We’ve got threats against the Yanks coming from an Islamic centre run by a rich Saudi Arabian; we’ve got some nutcase running around with weapons and explosives; we’ve got a source in the centre and a source at the periphery and we still haven’t got a clue what’s going on. We’re fumbling in the dark, Ced.’
Durant absently picked up the hourglass and held it to the light.
‘Stop playing with it,’ Shabalala said. ‘You’re putting your fingerprints all over it.’
Durant rolled his eyes and put the hourglass down on the desk. ‘It’s crying out to be played with. I mean what’s the point of having an hourglass if you can’t turn it over and watch the sand run through it?’
‘It’s symbolic,’ Shabalala said.
‘Symbolic of what?’
‘Of how short time is and how we’ve got to make the most of it.’
Durant smiled mischievously, picked it up again and turned the hourglass over. ‘The symbolism only works when the sand actually runs through it. Otherwise it’s just a piece of glass.’
Shabalala pursed his lips. ‘Don’t touch it again, I mean it.’
‘Why’re you so touchy about this thing? ‘
‘I told you, it’s a gift from someone.’
‘And what’s she trying to tell you? Your time’s running out?’
‘Very funny.’
Durant cocked his eye. ‘Or only three more days till Wednesday?’
‘Just leave it alone, okay?’
‘Come on, Ced, when you gonna open up? Time’s short—’ Durant flipped the glass over again, a little too fast this time, and it clipped the edge of Shabalala’s computer monitor. The glass was so fine, the sound of it breaking wasn’t nearly as spectacular as the sight of the orange sand exploding onto the desk, nor as gut-wrenching as the cry that came from Shabalala’s mouth.
Durant caught some of the orange sand in his hand, in some vain hope that by so doing he might save the whole delicate instrument, but it was beyond saving, scattered across the desk and the floor, the symbolism of the precariousness of life and time even more evident in its destruction than in its former existence.
‘I’m so sorry, that was an accident,’ Durant murmured. ‘I didn’t mean that to happen.’ He took a step back and cringed at the sound of glass crunching under his shoe.
Shabalala sat down slowly, a look of utter shock on his face, shock mixed with disbelief and both of these giving way to anger.
‘Get out of my office,’ he said quietly, and Durant would have felt better if he’d shouted it.
‘Sorry, Ced, really sorry. I’ll replace it, I’ll get you another one.’
‘Just leave. I don’t want to see you.’
‘At least let me clean it up then,’ Durant ventured, realising at that moment that Shabalala clearly didn’t want it cleaned up. He wanted to mourn the loss of the hourglass. He wanted to run his fingers through its fine orange sand and gather the broken pieces to his chest and just hold it.
Shabalala’s eyes were now screwed shut and his head was bowed. ‘You’ll understand if I never speak to you again?’
‘Completely. Again, I apologise, from the bottom of my heart. I’m such an idiot.’ Durant backed away to the door. ‘I’ll make it up to you.’
‘You want to make it up?’
Durant stopped. ‘Of course, I mean it.’
‘Close the door and sit down.’
There was a thirty-second silence, penetrated only by Shabalala’s breathing and the creaking of Durant’s chair as he shifted uncomfortably.
‘It’s Nandi,’ Shabalala said simply.
Durant smiled. ‘Nandi Masondo? Oh, okay, I get it. No problem. I’ll talk to her for you, put in a good word.’
‘I don’t need you to put in a good word, Kevin. It’s already a done deal.’
‘What? You and Nandi? Never!’
‘You always complain I never share with you and when I do you don’t believe me.’
Durant shook his head incredulously. ‘No way. Not you and Nandi.’
‘Why’s it so impossible?’ Shabalala asked indignantly. ‘You think I’m not worthy of her?’
‘It’s not that,’ Durant shrugged, ‘not that at all. I just think you’re either incredibly brave or really stupid. I mean, the boss’s daughter. And he’s on to you. He’s already asked me to find out who’s pursuing his only child.’
Shabalala put his hand on his forehead. ‘Really?’
‘He’s the ops head, Ced; you can’t keep secrets from him.’
‘So you owe me, Kevin. She gave me that hourglass, you broke it. Your loyalty’s to me now.’
Durant frowned and then smiled. ‘So the broken hourglass buys my silence? I don’t tell Masondo and you forgive me?’
‘Exactly. If he finds out, I don’t know what he’ll do.’
‘He’ll kill you, Ced. Nandi’s his pride and joy. He’s got very high expectations for her—’
‘Which clearly I don’t meet.’
‘Well, not in his eyes, Ced. You’re an intelligence officer, she’s a doctor. Spot the odd one out.’
‘Intelligence is a noble profession, Kevin, don’t diminish it. Anyway, when you’re in love, these things don’t matter.’
‘How long?’
‘How long have we been seeing each other? About three months.’
Durant did a quick calculation in his head. ‘I knew it! The car encounter! You greasy scoundrel, you.’
‘I’m an intelligence officer. I’m trained to exploit opportunities.’
‘Man, you’re good. I’m starting to think you might’ve disabled her car in the first place. And you go out every Wednesday night?’
‘Nandi’s got nothing to do with Wednesday nights, Kevin. Leave Wednesday nights alone, okay?’
Durant shook his head and let out a yelp. ‘Nandi Masondo, wow. I’ve got new respect for you, brother. If you survive this, you could be a happy man; I mean she’s a lovely lady.’
‘And now it’s our secret. Actually, now that we’re talking again, you
can
clean up the mess.’
The safe house door swung open and Ruslan stepped in.
‘I couldn’t find parking. I apologise.’
‘No problem, please, sit down and let’s talk.’ The office was looking cleaner this time. Shabalala had used his own money to have it serviced. ‘Your message said it was urgent.’
Ruslan sat down. ‘Yes. I took the sheikh for his meeting last night. It was at a different place this time, and then we had to stop for him to use the ablutions at a restaurant. He left his briefcase behind.’
‘You opened it?’
‘I tried, but one side was locked. But I could take a picture inside with my cellphone.’
He held up his phone and Shabalala squinted his eyes at the small screen. ‘I’m sorry; I can’t see what it is.’
‘Keep looking. I also couldn’t see in the beginning.’
‘Is it – money?’
‘Yes. Dollars, cash, lots of it.’
‘He picked up cash?’
‘He did.’
‘So the sheikh’s a puppet? Great, there goes our prime suspect.’
Ruslan shook his head. ‘You’re wrong, Reno. Remember Bin Laden worked for the Americans at one stage too. This is a war. There’s a battle for loyalties and everyone has a price.’
Shabalala shrugged. ‘So what do we do with Sheikh U-Haq now?’
‘Do you know what “Haq” means? It means “divine rights”. Isn’t that sad?’
Durant turned the aircon knob up a notch until the fan noise, combined with the roar of the Land Rover’s diesel engine, all but drowned out the radio news. It was old news anyway. The media had been told the
ATM
bombers had mistakenly blown themselves up. That was easier to explain. A 57-year-old man had tragically also been killed in the blast. There was an interview with Raj Doorasamy’s widow. Sad news.
The humidity was still oppressive even though it was after six and long shadows began falling over Westville. Durant swung the Land Rover into the entrance of the plush suburb, with its set-back houses and landscaped gardens, and drove through heavy traffic until he reached the part where house prices maxed out around the million-rand mark and bargains were still to be had. Durant remembered when Masondo bought the house. He’d even helped him move. Nandi had been a gangly-legged teenager who fussed about the valuables and wanted everything to be perfect. Masondo had lost his wife around that time and Nandi was everything to him. Nothing much had changed in the years that had passed. The house still needed that touch of paint and the intercom at the gate was still temperamental. Nandi, however, had changed. She’d matured into a prize any man would desire. Shabalala had chosen well.
Nandi showed Durant in.
‘My dad’s not home yet, Uncle Kevin. Can I make you a cup of coffee while you wait?’
‘Don’t worry, thanks, Nandi; I’m just leaving this envelope for him. I’m not going to stay. Can I have a quick word with you?’
Nandi showed Durant in and motioned for him to sit on the couch. She sat opposite him, legs crossed and leaning forward. ‘What’s up?’
Durant lowered his voice. ‘It’s a bit awkward. I don’t want to ruin our friendship or anything.’
‘This sounds serious. What have I done?’
‘I’m sorry. You haven’t done anything, don’t worry. I just wanted to let you know that I’m aware of you and Cedric.’
Nandi lowered her eyes to the coffee table, sighed and then fixed them back on Durant’s. ‘I won’t deny it if you know.’
‘But don’t worry, I won’t tell your dad, I promise, your secret’s safe.’
‘Thanks. He won’t approve.’
‘I know. Ced told me, but swore me to secrecy. I just wanted to know why you think your dad won’t approve of Ced.’
Nandi smiled. ‘He irritates my dad. My dad sees him as a youngster with no experience. Academically he is more than qualified, but he can’t measure up operationally. My dad judges everybody by their struggle credentials. He accepts you because he sees you as a veteran too – you fought for a cause and were willing to sacrifice your life. Cedric never got his hands dirty. He holds that against him.’
‘That’s unfair. Ced doesn’t have to prove himself by your dad’s standards, it’s impossible anyway.’
‘My dad doesn’t know everything about him, and I haven’t told him everything I know. Cedric’s embarrassed about his past. To me, it doesn’t matter, but to him, it’s a big thing.’
‘I don’t know much about him at all. I know he studied at university, but I don’t have any detail. I know he’s 28.’
‘He lived in a shack in an informal settlement for the first seventeen years of his life. I’m telling you this because I know you won’t treat him any differently and I know you won’t tell him I told you.’
‘Of course not. I thought he grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth. I assumed that.’
‘Everyone assumes that, but he didn’t. I’m proud of him and I want you to be proud of him too. He was gifted academically and his parents got him a scholarship at a private school. I think he’s such a private person now because he learnt to hide his private life so well.’
Durant nodded slowly, his eyes falling to Nandi’s hands resting on the table. ‘He does that. Never speaks about his private life.’
‘He couldn’t have friends around at his house, because his house was a shack. His classmates always assumed he also came from a middle-or upper-class family background and accepted him on that basis. In the holidays, he went back to the shack. I think that’s why he’s so anti-dirt and germs nowadays.’
‘So he’s really risen above his circumstances. He doesn’t have to stand back for anyone.’
‘My dad has a way of making people feel inferior sometimes. I’ve even felt like that. He pushes and pushes. Maybe I needed it. I don’t know if I would have finished my medical degree without him pushing.’
‘Your dad’s an awesome man; I have the greatest respect for him. I didn’t think he judges people, but I get the impression he either likes you or he doesn’t and he doesn’t make a secret of it.’
‘Well, unfortunately he doesn’t like Cedric. Never mind that he got his master’s degree cum laude.’
‘It’s obviously not about what he’s achieved. Maybe if your dad takes the time to get to know him better, he might start liking him.’
‘The problem is Cedric keeps everything in. He should show off his achievements, but he doesn’t talk about them. It counts against him.’
‘And Wednesday nights? You guys go out?’
‘Why?’
‘I just noticed he’s always busy on Wednesday nights.’
‘I go with him sometimes, sometimes he goes alone. But it’s something he really doesn’t want anybody to know about. Sorry, Uncle Kev, that’s going to stay a secret, even from you.’
Durant walked into Shabalala’s office holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a doughnut in the other.
‘Technical hit a blank with the
VIN
number,’ Durant said, carelessly slopping some coffee onto Shabalala’s table when he put the cup down.
‘Careful with that! Do you ever listen to yourself speak?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘“Technical hit a blank.” I mean, English is the language of Shakespeare, and you’re using words that are all wrong. It’s not my first language and even I can hear that.’
‘I do apologise,’ Durant said in his best English accent. ‘The technical department informs me that they were unable to establish with any certainty the precise identity of the number in question.’
‘That’s better. Now clean the coffee you spilt on my desk, please.’