An Ordinary Day (33 page)

‘That’s why I feel so at home already. Stephanie sends her condolences, and apologises for not popping in.’

‘How’s Steph doing, Kevin?’

‘Fine, much better, I think she’s almost herself again. And you? I can’t imagine how this must be for you.’

‘You can, Kevin, you must be able to. You knew Mike as well as I did. It makes it easier for me knowing he was so loved at work.’

‘We’re still in shock. He was a brother to me.’

‘There was so much more to him than most people knew.’ Thandi bit her lip. ‘He was a good man. I said things about him which were lies, sometimes, Kevin; I’ve even lied to you. I’m ashamed.’

‘We all lie, Thandi.’ Durant felt uncomfortable and his mouth had gone dry. He had come prepared for awkwardness and unease, but the situation felt out of control.

‘He didn’t want anybody to know about our family issues and poverty. He lied to protect me. It’s my fault.’

Durant put his hand on her shoulder. He could handle amputations and open fractures and disembowelments, but comforting a grieving widow was out of his league. ‘Don’t blame yourself.’

Thandi took Durant’s hand and led him to the back door. ‘Come and meet my family,’ she said.

Outside was a small sandy area about the size of a garage. A few white stones were scattered in the sand and a single day lily looked oddly out of place growing from under a pile of disused tyres. The green and rocky hills and valleys with their scattered mud houses, some whitewashed and looking quite elegant, stretched endlessly in all directions. But the beauty was tainted with sadness. It is only when you leave the tourist routes, as Durant had, and travel into the heart of the valley along stony, and sometimes treacherous footpaths, that you realise the beauty of the valley belies the suffering of the poverty-stricken people living there. Durant expected to see people sitting outside, but Thandi stood beside him and pointed at the soil.

‘My family. Two brothers, three sisters, and my eight-month-old niece. They all lie here.’

Durant didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything.

‘Mike dug these graves at night by himself. A few years ago, people with
AIDS
were freaks and social misfits. We were embarrassed then. It was a secret we couldn’t tell. My family just slowly disappeared. This house was where my family came home to die.’

Durant felt the tears well up in his eyes. He was so different from the man he called brother; he realised that he hadn’t known Mike Shezi at all. The only parts of Mike he knew were the parts that were like him – funny, calm, conventional; he knew the urban, westernised Mike. His home life, family tragedies, emotional turmoil, Durant knew nothing of. He felt cheated. Why had Mike kept this from him? How did he think Durant would have reacted had he known about this? Did he think Kevin would have been any less of a friend or brother or colleague? But looking at the barren earth where the graves lay, Durant knew that he had done the right thing by protecting his friend.

‘My brother was a successful businessman. He helped my father build this house, and he died right here. He left behind a wife and eight children. My sister left behind three children, all of them in school. Mike – you know Mike – he felt a responsibility. He put his heart and his soul into his work because he had so many mouths to feed.’

‘I had no idea … He never told me any of this.’

‘Mike had two sides to him. The side you saw: the dedicated colleague, passionate investigator, a guy full of fun and laughter, and the side you didn’t see: the man struggling to keep his relatives alive on his salary.’

‘But the debts …?’

‘It seemed less complicated to explain it like that. His whole salary goes to feeding and clothing the family and paying school fees. Whatever’s left, we use for our daily living. There’s never much left.’

‘We could have helped, if we’d known, I mean, we’re part of the same family …’

‘Kevin, this is our burden, not yours. We didn’t want to make it anybody else’s burden. You helped Mike enough; he couldn’t have asked for a better friend.’

‘I could have done more. I should have done more.’

‘Two days before he died he told me you were his inspiration and how your integrity was such an example to him.’ Thandi began to sob. ‘I’m sorry …’ She looked across the thousands of green hills and valleys in the distance. Her journey ahead would be an arduous one.

The morning was bleak. Thunderclouds were already rolling in from the west towards the city, and the outside tables at Horizons were shrouded in a grey, unsettling mist. Amina wondered if Durant had deliberately decided to sit outside, where the weather was threatening and the umbrellas were quickly and unceremoniously being rolled up as the clients moved indoors. The weather reflected his sombre mood, she reasoned. He hadn’t said much since ordering breakfast for them, and she had also remained silent, allowing him to stare out to sea and evaluate whatever it was that was troubling him so deeply. Finally he seemed to snap out of his distant daydream. He shook his head briefly and apologised.

‘I’m sorry, Ami, I’m bad company today. It’s not like me.’

‘You seem a bit preoccupied, but it’s okay.’

‘There’re so many thoughts inside my head, I don’t know if I’m sane anymore.’

‘You’re sane, Kevin, don’t worry. A lot’s happened. You’ve handled it well.’

Durant shook his head. ‘I don’t know if I can handle much more. The worst is Ali was working for the Americans.’

‘I know. It’s bizarre. We could have worked with them.’

‘The American law-enforcement agencies can’t even work with each other, never mind with foreign agencies. They probably underestimated our ability.’

‘No doubt they did. That misconception has cost us a life. If we’d known Ali was that involved in
WMD
smuggling, we’d surely have put more effort into our investigation.’

‘We would’ve understood what Elhasomi was here for, we could’ve saved her. Maybe even Mike.’

‘You can’t save everyone, Kevin.’

‘That’s what Stephanie always tells me.’

‘We can’t change what’s already done. In our world, everything isn’t normal. Nothing is what it seems. Everyone has their own agenda, as we have ours. Sometimes these agendas work at cross-purposes.’

‘And people die.’

Amina nodded. ‘People die. We chose a hard profession. The hardest part’s not knowing who your real enemies and friends are. Today’s friends are tomorrow’s enemies. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Remember how you always say “we’re the good guys”?’

‘I really used to believe that. I’m not so sure any more.’

‘You put your career on the line to save your partner’s reputation, because you believed in him. That type of loyalty you don’t just find anywhere. You didn’t do it for yourself; you did it for your team.’

Durant put his hands through his hair and shook his head. ‘In a way, I’ve betrayed myself. I’ve defeated the ends of justice. I’ve gone against the very things I believe in.’

‘Your motive was pure. We did it together, remember; we’re in this together. I took the money. I didn’t put it back.’

‘Someone once said you can’t do a bad thing for a good reason without compromising your integrity. It feels like I’ve betrayed the Agency, the country. Have I done South Africa a service by doing this? Am I proud? No, I’m not proud.’

‘I spoke to Thandi earlier. She said Mike told her the night before his death that he felt like a fake and a fraud and that he needed to put something right. The night he died his detailed billing shows a call from Mojo. The next day he’s dead. My theory is, he lets Mojo know he’s done working with them. He puts his cards on the table and Mojo kills him to shut him up.’

‘I want to believe that. I want to believe that in a temporarily insane moment, he compromised his integrity and then regretted it until his conscience drove him to that meeting where he died. They wouldn’t have killed him if he was still useful to them. He died because he changed his mind.’

Amina nodded. ‘He did it to clear his conscience,’ she said. ‘Absolution sometimes carries a high price.’

‘He sacrificed his life for his principles, that’s why I’m protecting him.’

‘Can’t we just report it like that? Won’t they understand?’

‘The organisation hasn’t got feelings; it’s objective. It’ll always go back to the acts and directives. It won’t see it like we do. It would want justice and retribution. To the Agency, Mike Shezi’s just a name and an appointment number. To us, he’s a colleague, a friend, a family man.’

‘What would Masondo say if you told him?’

‘I’ve thought about that. I think he knows I’m hiding something, and just wants me to say it, but I can’t. Everything I told him so far was the truth. I just left some things out.’

‘But Masondo and Shezi are old comrades, surely he’d understand?’

‘I can’t risk it. I don’t know how he’ll react. If it goes well, we save Mike’s reputation. If it goes badly, you, me, Mike, Thandi, all of us, are doomed.’

‘It’s a mess. I wish I’d never found the money.’

‘If you didn’t, someone else would have and they would’ve reported it.’

‘I suppose you’re right.’

‘Where’s the money?’

Amina smiled, embarrassed. ‘Remember Mrs Meer?’

‘Best biryani I’ve ever had.’

‘That’s the one. She’s been struggling for years; her little shop’s been hit by thugs more times than she can remember. I invested the money into her shop, upgraded her security and got her some protection.’

Durant smiled. ‘Robin Hood? You used the proceeds of crime to protect an old lady from crime. Now that’s poetic justice at its sweetest.’

The black Chrysler Voyager with tinted windows slowed down as it approached a set of traffic lights in a Durban suburb. Before the vehicle stopped, the side door slid open and a man dressed in a dark jacket slipped out and disappeared around a corner and into a takeaway shop. The Voyager drove off as the traffic lights turned green; the driver noted the occupants of the vehicle behind him hadn’t noticed the departure of his passenger out the side door.

Scott bought a newspaper at the take-away and made a call on his cellphone to the driver of the Voyager. The tail from Durban International Airport was still following, but Scott was clear. Scott exited the take-away and walked a little way up the road to a bus stop. He removed his dark jacket, revealing a light golf shirt, and took a cap out of the jacket pocket. He threw the jacket into a rubbish bin beside the bus stop. Within a minute, a local Mynah bus arrived, and he climbed on and paid the fare.

Two stops later, Scott got off the bus and entered a shabby bar in Umbilo Road. He walked to the far corner of the noisy and dimly lit tavern, sat on a hard wooden bench which was etched with graffiti and watched a stripper begin removing her clothes. The more clothes she removed, the more his interest waned. He looked at his watch continuously, his irritation level clearly rising each agonising minute. He didn’t notice Vitoli enter the pub, as he was momentarily distracted by a minor drunken scuffle at the bar. Scott jumped involuntarily as Vitoli sat down on the bench opposite him.

‘Where the hell were you?’

‘Spent the mornin’ shakin’ tails. Every time I’ve ducked into a takeaway, I’ve had to buy a damn hamburger, but I’m clean. I’ve done everything I had to do, I’m good to go.’

‘Your route’s confirmed. Themba, gate six, walk across at the
GPS
co-ords on this card. Once in Mozambique, our man Raoul will take you by vehicle to an airstrip in the north-east. A cargo plane will take you to Kenya and then a charter flight to Germany. You’ll be back in the States in forty-eight hours.’

Vitoli smiled. ‘No time to do some shoppin’?’

‘What the hell happened?’

‘Durant knocked on my door. The damndest thing. If it’d been Santa I woulda been less surprised.’

‘How’d he compromise you?’

‘Just by being there. Told him I’m Department of Commerce, but I don’t think he bought it. I’ve followed protocol and shut down the station. Here’s the crypto stuff.’ He handed Scott a blue canvas bag, the zip sealed. ‘Guess I won’t need that any more.’

Scott took the bag and pushed a black folder across the table to Vitoli. ‘Everything you need to get you out. You’ll depart immediately. You know you can’t say goodbye to anybody.’

‘I know the protocols.’ Vitoli flipped a memory stick out of his pocket and held it out to Scott. ‘My final report.’

‘Is Durant as arrogant as I think he is?’

Vitoli frowned. ‘Arrogant? Nah. He ain’t arrogant. Passionate, yeah, professional, yeah. I think he’ll get his man.’

‘That damn Durant is everywhere, poking his nose into our business.’

‘Well, it’s their business too. This ain’t our country, remember.’

‘He blundered into our business and he’s wrecked our operation. You know how much it costs to withdraw an
NOC
who’s been active for so long in one country?’

‘My goodness, Paul, is that a compliment? Are you tellin’ me I’m irreplaceable?’ Vitoli took a large gulp from the beer he’d picked up on his way in.

‘Hopefully your replacement will be a little more disciplined,’ Scott said, and glanced over to the stripper, who now seemed to be engaged in a wrestling match with one of the patrons.