‘As you probably know, my situation improved somewhat after that whole business.’ He threw Makana a wide-eyed look of alarm. ‘That wasn’t why I did it, of course.’
‘Of course not, but you did make a good profit.’
‘In a certain way, perhaps I did.’ He was squeezing his palms together like he was wringing out wet laundry. ‘I went up in the world. But that all came later. I didn’t need to be told that what Ridwan had published was wrong.’ Serhan licked his lips and stared at a spot somewhere in the distance. ‘I began to move in certain circles, among influential people. Powerful men of industry, military officers.’ The shadows were lengthening as the last flickers of light were snuffed out.
‘One last thing. What prompted you to send those letters?’
‘A couple of months ago I happened to overhear a conversation. It was at a shareholders’ meeting at the bank.’
‘The Eastern Star?’
Serhan nodded. ‘There is a general meeting once a year that you are obliged to attend. I generally go along to show my face and leave as soon as I can. I was sitting at the back and there were two men standing behind me. I overheard them talking about having taken care of something. I wouldn’t have paid much attention except I caught Meera’s name. They also mentioned someone else, a journalist. Again, I would probably have dismissed the incident from my mind but the following morning I read in the paper about a journalist, a man named Hikmet. He had thrown himself from a window. I knew immediately that I had overheard his executioners. I realised they were talking about killing Meera.’
‘Who were these men?’
‘I don’t know. I didn’t dare turn around. But it was the way they were talking. They mentioned her by name, and the place where she worked. I didn’t know she was working in a travel agency, but I know that things were hard for them after . . . well, you know. I couldn’t approach her, for obvious reasons. So I decided to write.’
A groundsman wandered up the path in green overalls and big rubber boots, his feet heavy as if he was wading through thick black molasses, telling people the garden was closing.
‘This is a terrible mistake,’ said Serhan, leaping to his feet. ‘I should never have come here.’
Makana hurried after Serhan, who was rushing down the path at great speed. He grabbed hold of his arm.
‘Why send three letters? Why not just one?’
‘When the first one didn’t work I sent another, and then another. I couldn’t understand why he didn’t respond.’ Serhan’s lips moved soundlessly as if worrying at a rag. ‘It’s no good. I shouldn’t have come. You mustn’t try to contact me.’
And with that he was gone, melting into the thickening shadows that sprang up all around. Makana considered chasing after him but he had a feeling there was no point. Serhan was scared out of his wits. The only reason he had talked at all was because he had managed to lull himself into a state of false security remembering the old days when everyone had been young and he and Meera had been in love. With a sigh, Makana lit another cigarette. He wondered if Serhan had chosen this place because they used to come here back then. The groundsman appeared again clumping towards him, his boots making sucking noises, opening and closing like black eels clamped around his legs. His eyes were dull white orbs floating in the gloom.
‘We’re closing.’
Makana took himself off without waiting to be asked again.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It was late when Makana finally arrived home. The river road was silent and empty. The big eucalyptus tree hung down over the riverbank like an unanswered question mark.
Umm Ali’s precarious little shack was dark and silent. This, while being unusual, was not out of the ordinary. Although he often wondered at the way she and the children managed to stay up long into the early hours watching some raucous melodrama on television and still be up at the crack of daybreak, there were exceptions. Perhaps the machine was broken, or it might even have been possible that the good-for-nothing brother had decided to take them all off on a treat. Miracles still happened, Makana had to remind himself, even if they were few and far between. It was only when he reached the end of the narrow path that he began to feel uneasy. He paused to listen to