The Ambassador's Offer, page 10
Brigitta soothingly stroked his head. “Go on,” she urged. “You wanted to meet to discuss the protest march, right?”
Yusuff groaned. “Yes, exactly. Mazari planned to give a speech at the university that day, and I was supposed to greet the students in front of Paradise Cinema. Everything was prepared, all the banners and flyers printed…” Yusuff looked at her desperately. “Brigitta, what if Professor Mazari is just the beginning? Oh God!”
“Please, Yusuff. What exactly happened?”
“We were all sitting at Biryani, you know, outside the shop. There were four of us, and then…suddenly…out of nowhere…a jeep approached…”
“With soldiers? Police?”
“Yes, soldiers with machine guns. They surrounded us, pointed their guns at us…and then…simply grabbed Mazari and dragged him into their jeep.”
“They just drove away with him?”
“Yes, exactly. Oh God, I’m so afraid for him, Brigitta. He’s not a fighter; he’s an intellectual.” Deep shadows lay under Yusuff’s eyes. When was the last time he had slept? He looked completely exhausted and desperate.
“What about you? What about your friends? Did anyone else witness it?”
“Yes…of course, Brigitta. Many people saw the jeep, but they’re all afraid, especially since martial law has been declared. The government can do whatever they want now. They can imprison anyone, arrest them without charges. Oh, Brigitta…”
She didn’t know what to say or how to comfort him. Maybe the ambassador could help? No, she immediately dismissed that idea. He couldn’t interfere in internal Pakistani affairs. Perhaps Amira? After all, she was Yusuff’s stepmother and had not only excellent connections through her husband but also an influential family behind her. Involve the press? Seeing him like this made her heart ache but there was nothing she could do, not now. Yusuff needed to sleep first.
“You need to rest. You can’t help anyone like this.” Brigitta simply stood up, took his hand, and gently led him to her bed. He sat down, took off his shoes, and lay on his side. As Yusuff began to sob softly, Brigitta started to touch him gently, stroke his head, and tenderly brush his eyelids. Finally, he seemed to relax.
Despite everything, it was wonderful to have him close and feel his warmth.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” Yusuff whispered. He took her hand, began to kiss each of her fingers, then caressed her arm, her shoulder, and her neck.
She dreamed of being close to him like this for weeks but there had never been the right moment. Only once, they had been alone, meeting in Yusuff’s student dorm after a walk through the city. The tiny, stuffy room with a bunk bed he shared with Said. The paint was peeling off the walls, and pungent smells wafted in from the nearby communal kitchen but they didn’t mind. Yet, the exact moment they had been about to kiss, there was a loud knock on the door and Said came storming in. No one would disturb them tonight, and whatever tomorrow would bring, this night belonged to them. Yusuff drew her closer, and she could see the tiny specks in his pupils again. When they kissed, everything else ceased to exist.
Hours later, as the morning sun cast its first shadows on her bed and the garden came to life with its sounds and the chirping of birds, Brigitta woke up abruptly. She had dozed off for a moment, but when she sat up, she saw Yusuff lying next to her, fast asleep. He was lying on his side, and his long legs peeked out from under the sheet, only partially covered. His eyelids twitched in his sleep, and his long, black lashes moved like little butterfly wings. Yusuff looked even more vulnerable than usual, but at the same time, the curve of his chin and the crease between his eyes gave him a determined and fighting spirit. She could have watched him for hours like this, but it was already early morning, and a new working day would soon begin at the embassy. She gently kissed his eyelids. Yusuff woke up immediately.
“I have to leave, right?”
Brigitta nodded sadly. “It’s not a good idea for people to see you here.”
Yusuff smiled at her, kissed her tenderly, and disappeared into her bathroom with his belongings. Five minutes later, he whispered in her ear at the door, “Whatever happens, that was the most beautiful night of my life. See you soon, my love.” Then he ran through the morning garden and disappeared.
CHAPTER 15:
The Suspicion
Brigitta had hardly slept, but felt oddly exuberant; she had never felt more alive.
At the same time, she was very worried about Yusuff. He would do everything possible to free the professor, even if he risked his life.
Sipping her second cup of coffee, she made a decision. Sitting around and doing nothing wouldn’t help; she needed to confide in someone, talk about the professor’s abduction, but also about her find in the attaché’s office. The notebook was still in her purse, nestled between her compact and her small wallet. She hadn’t dared to return it, and perhaps she still needed it?
Who could she turn to? The ambassador was out of the question, as he wouldn’t approve of Brigitta snooping around Leitner’s office in secret, and, unfortunately, Walter was not an option either, as he couldn’t keep a secret. That left only Amira. The mysterious Amira had become a good friend, since she came to Karachi. She was still secretive, but Brigitta attributed that to her background and life situation. Brigitta cherished following Amira on their little excursions around the city, seeing Karachi with an insider’s eye. They explored exotic bazaars together, touching the silk of exquisite fabrics and admiring gold bangles with intricate engravings in Amira’s favorite store or tasting the best food Brigitta had ever had; from fluffy naans and buttery pekoras they bought at tiny stalls in Saddar to spicy chicken birjani in a traditional Pakistani restaurant that Amira’s aunt managed and where they were welcomed like royals. Wherever they went, Amira always had a story to tell and was often greeted respectfully by people they met. Her body- guard followed them every step of the way, and even though Brigitta felt intimidated by the huge and somewhat murky character in the beginning, after a while, she forgot about his presence entirely. He never muttered a word, walked a few steps behind like a dark and invincible shadow, and scanned the road like a bird of prey when they exited Amira’s limousine. For Brigitta, Amira was an exceptional woman, a woman who seemed to fear nothing and no one, and that impressed Brigitta greatly. Amira exuded strength and independence, and it wasn’t just because she was rich, had a bodyguard, or came from an influential family in northern Pakistan. Only her relationship with her husband, Selim, seemed suspicious to Brigitta, and she was asking herself whether they had an arranged marriage like so many people in India and Pakistan. Whatever, she thought; It is on her to speak about him.
In any case, today, Brigitta needed a confidant. Someone trustworthy to speak about the book she had found and that troubled her so much. Determinedly, she went to the bathroom, washed up hastily, and put on a light summer dress. Then she locked the door behind her, walked along the embassy grounds, and, when she got into the waiting little taxi, waved to the gatekeeper good-bye.
“Villa Khan,” she simply said. The taxi driver nodded.
Everyone in Pakistan knew that address.
A young housemaid in a snow-white apron opened the door and led Brigitta into the foyer. When she heard footsteps on the polished stone floor approaching from the hallway, she turned around expectantly, but it was the master of the house who appeared instead of his wife.
Selim Khan was an elegant figure in his perfectly tailored dark-blue suit and pristine white shirt. His full black hair, only sprinkled with a few gray strands at the temples, was cut short on the sides. A single longer strand fell across his face, slightly covering his right eye, giving him a somewhat daring look. The host seemed to be in a bad mood, as his usual compliments or suggestive comments were absent today.
“Well, Miss Kapusta, you here? I didn’t know we were expecting such distinguished guests,” he said sarcastically. Before Brigitta could respond, Amira approached them. Light-footed and elegant as always.
“How lovely!” she exclaimed, kissing Brigitta on both cheeks. “What a surprise.” Glancing at her husband, slightly puzzled, she linked arms with Brigitta and quickly led her away.
“Come, let’s go to the garden. Let’s have some tea together.”
Selim Khan remained in the foyer, directly beneath the whirring ceiling fan, and, when they walked away together, Brigitta noticed his gloomy expression.
“Didn’t you tell me there was no political salon last week?” Brigitta asked as she followed Amira through the long corridors of the house. Amira’s weekly political salons were famous in Karachi, and the guests were a diverse group of students, professors, liberal-minded politicians, and artists who discussed the political developments in Pakistan and the world or the latest art trends or literature discussions or listened to the invited guest speakers. Brigitta had only attended once, but she had fond memories of the evening. Martinis had flowed freely, and after the intellectual debates, people had danced joyfully in the house to the latest tunes of Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra, or Buddy Holly. She would love to be twirled around again by Yusuff to “Jailhouse Rock.”
“My friends are afraid. Well, actually, everyone who doesn’t support the general is afraid, especially artists and intellectuals,” Amira replied. “The atmosphere is quite tense, even among overseas Pakistanis. They say Ayub Khan has a long reach. There are even rumors that Mirza will be sent into exile and Ayub Khan will declare himself the new president. Martial law makes it possible.”
“What does this mean for Yusuff and the National Student Front, Amira?”
“I don’t know; I’m also very worried about him.” Amira replied anxiously.
Did Amira know anything about the abduction of Yusuff’s professor Mazari? Would Yusuff even approve if she confided in Amira?
“Tell me, Brigitta,” Amira insisted, “you didn’t come here to talk about politics, did you? What’s on your mind? I can see that something is bothering you, even though you”—she scrutinized Brigitta attentively—“look radiant today.”
“So, you haven’t spoken to Yusuff yet?” When Amira shook her head, Brigitta continued, “Something terrible has happened. Professor Mazari has been kidnapped!”
“What? Yusuff’s professor? By whom?”
“Yes…last night. In Saddar.”
“That’s unbelievable! On the street? How do you even know about it? Was Yusuff there, too?”
“Yes, he was and he is…,” Brigitta lowered her head.
“Brigitta, what about Yusuff? Is he hurt? Where is he?”
“Please wait, Amira. Yes, yes, he was with him and yes, he’s fine, but please, there’s something else I need to tell you.”
“More? What do you mean?”
Brigitta told Amira everything she knew, and Amira didn’t interrupt. “You’re in love, aren’t you? I had a feeling as soon as I introduced you, but I didn’t expect it to happen so quickly.”
Brigitta couldn’t believe it either. Was she in love?
“I’m happy for both of you,” Amira said, “but it’s…complicated.”
“What? Why?”
“Oh, you live in …two different worlds. It’s not as easy as you think, plus, Yusuff might be in danger now.” Amira looked away, then went on.
“Has he ever told you how he came to Pakistan?”
When Brigitta shook her head, Amira said, “You know, I think he really needs to tell you that himself. But is that all?”
Brigitta hesitated but then gathered her courage. “No, that wasn’t all. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something else. It’s just…I found something. More or less by chance. And now I don’t know how to handle it.”
“Yes?” Amira placed her slender hand on Brigitta’s expectantly.
“I…I found something. Stefanie’s notebook. You know…the young embassy assistant who disappeared without a trace. Stefanie Enders.” Brigitta looked around, and when she saw no one in the garden and the terrace door closed, she quickly took out the red notebook from her bag. “Look, it belonged to her. To Stefanie. I…I found it…oh, that doesn’t matter now. Please take a look at the entries.”
Amira said nothing at first, only listened skeptically. Then, she took the book from Brigitta’s hand and flipped through it herself. Suddenly, she seemed closed off.
“Why are you showing me this? I don’t quite understand what it means. Felix Leitner? The attaché of the ambassador?”
She seemed reluctant to get involved in embassy matters.
“So, you believe Felix Leitner is involved in something?” Amira continued. “The racecourse, yes, that’s strange…and ten thousand dollars? By the way, the racecourse belongs to—” But she suddenly interrupted herself and said abruptly, “Maybe you shouldn’t get involved and should return the book as soon as possible. Who knows why it was hidden?”
Was that all she had to say about it?
“You think that Khan refers to Selim, right? Is that what you’re implying, Brigitta? Do you even know how many people here have Khan as their last name?”
Her voice sounded irritated.
“You need to return the book, and quickly,” Amira insisted. I don’t understand why you took it in the first place.”
“Can’t you understand that this seems strange, Amira? First, this young woman, an embassy employee, disappears, and then I randomly find her calendar on a shelf in Leitner’s office? You have to admit, that’s more than peculiar!”
“Of course I understand. I just think you’re getting involved in something that’s none of your business and could have unpleasant consequences for you. And if anything, you should hand it over to the ambassador!”
“The ambassador? Leitner is his best man, Amira.”
“Yes, but shouldn’t he be made aware of this? Or…Brigitta…do you really believe that my husband secretly met Felix Leitner at the embassy? Why would he do that?”
“Maybe he wanted to obtain confidential information?” Brigitta took the notebook, turned the pages, and quickly found the entry on May 12, one day before Stefanie’s disappearance. She read aloud: “’Conversation between Leitner and Khan at the embassy. Khan threatens disclosure if no material is delivered.’ You see, Amira? Doesn’t that mean that Leitner was supposed to deliver something?”
“Hmm, I wouldn’t put anything past my husband, especially when it comes to power and money.” Amira laughed, but a bitterness had crept into her voice. Clearly, not everything was fine between Selim and Amira.
“There’s a lot of money at stake, Brigitta, right? With the Indus Water Fund?”
“Yes, indeed. Nine hundred million dollars.”
“Nine hundred million?” Amira stared at her in disbelief. “Where does all that money come from? Who manages it?”
“Six Western industrial nations are going to invest over the next few years, and the World Bank is involved, too. Some of the money has already been allocated for the construction of the Mangla Dam. If I’m not wrong…”—Brigitta paused for a moment—“that the Pakistan Water and Development Authority, or PWA, your husband is heading, is responsible for the financing of the Pakistani projects. Don’t you…”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Amira impatiently interrupted, “that’s Selim’s new job. I told you, he’s very ambitious. But what does this have to do with Stefanie’s notes? I don’t get it.” She shook her head. “By the way, how do you know all of this?”
“ Most of the negotiations take place at the embassy. You know that the ambassador acts as a mediator, right?”
“Yes, yes…but are you sure that the PWA will channel the money for the building of the dam? And even if, why should my husband meet Stefanie at the embassy?”
“I don’t know, but…what’s wrong? You look pale.”
Brigitta thought about the memorandum signed at the embassy and Selim Khan’s appearance there. In his new position, he would indeed have the opportunity to supervise the project’s money flow and maybe also influence the outcome of the bidding process. Many international companies were already vying for a role in such a large infrastructure project. Brigitta’s head was spinning. But how did this relate to Leitner? The attaché had copies of all the documents and knew everything discussed in the conferences, just like the ambassador. Maybe she was on the wrong path after all, maybe it wasn’t Selim who Stefanie had referred to.
“Amira, do you think Selim would be capable of blackmailing Leitner to obtain internal information?” Amira looked surprised, but before she could say anything, the terrace door opened.
Selim Khan stood there, eyeing them suspiciously.
“Well, my beauties, what are you racking your brains about?” he asked with an ironic grin.
Brigitta felt her heart pounding. Whether Selim Khan was involved in some blackmailing scheme to obtain inside information or not, something was threatening about him.
Under the pretext of needing to use the bathroom, she excused herself and walked through the terrace door into the house and to the nearest toilet. She knew the way from her previous visits, and once in the bathroom, she took a deep breath and splashed some water on her face. Maybe she was just seeing things? But, when she looked up, she noticed the open window. Amira’s and Selim’s voices were clearly audible from here. They were arguing about Yusuff.
Had Selim Khan been standing here just minutes ago? Had he overheard their conversation?
CHAPTER 16:
Chaos at Karachi University
One week after the declaration of martial law, Brigitta made her way to the university. By no means would she miss Yusuff’s speech today, which aimed to rally his fellow students for the upcoming protest. She knew how important it was for him.
He must be so nervous, but I am, too.
“Please, Brigitta, come!” he had urged. “I really want you to be there, to experience yourself what I stand for, even if it gets more dangerous every day to fight for freedom in this country.”
