Smokescreen Page 7

  “You mean, were we lovers? Oh yes. When I came back to spend the summer with my parents after graduating from Oxford, I was ready for a great passion. Zahra was the president’s daughter, but she considered me deserving of her attention. I’m very rich, and she automatically associates wealth with royal entitlement. She thought she might be able to mold me into the prince she felt was her due. We had an interesting summer.”

  “A great passion?”

  “No, but erotic and fascinating, until I saw the mamba raising its head. Then I left her and went back to London.” His lips twisted. “She wasn’t pleased. She’d thought she’d found someone who could survive her bite; and then she had to start over.” He gestured to the curve of the road ahead. “Robaku is just ahead. I called from the cockpit and asked the headman, Hajif, to come to meet you at the school. Jill said you had a decision to make and to give you the information you needed to make it.”

  “And then you’ll take me back to Atlanta immediately if I decide I don’t want to stay?”

  “Of course. Jill always keeps her word. Even if it means I have to bear the brunt of it.” He gave her a keen glance. “But I think I’ll probably get a good night’s sleep tonight here in Maldara. I’d wager that intensity usually wins out when it comes to children. Why else are you here?”

  “Your friend, Jill, conned me,” she said flatly.

  “Then she had her reasons,” Gideon said. “And it probably hurt her more than it did you. Jill is one of those rare people who take honor seriously. She’d agonize over it.” He paused. “And I bet she made it as painless for you as possible.”

  “The hell she did,” Eve said curtly. “She wrote me a biography on each of those children that would tear your heart out.”

  Gideon gave a low whistle. “Ah, that pen of hers can be a lethal weapon. She’s a great wordsmith. But she is usually responsible about how she wields it. Maybe you’ll find that she was this time, too.” He’d negotiated the turn in the road, and they’d suddenly left all semblance of the modern world and were in the jungle. He drove on a bumpy dirt road for another few minutes, then pulled to a stop and gestured to a large, square structure several yards away. “Robaku.”

  Eve stared in shock. Destruction. Chaos.

  It was a burnt-out shell of a building. No roof. Only blackened, jagged openings that had once been windows. There was a wide, gaping opening that must have been a door, which vines and shrubs were trying to devour.

  Eve could almost smell the acrid scent of the smoke from the flames that had destroyed the school. It had been a long time, but she could swear the smell lingered. She had thought it would at least have been cleaned up, perhaps flowers planted. Some attempt made to have the painfulness of the scene erased.

  “Nothing…has been done.” She got out of the Land Rover and stood looking at that gaping mouth of a door. “Jill said Zahra…some kind of memorial.”

  “This is Zahra’s concept of a memorial. She ordered the villagers not to touch the school.” Gideon got out of the car. “She said that everyone should see the horrible destruction that the war brought to her country so that they would never be tempted to repeat it. Unusual, but it sounded vaguely patriotic when she was quoted in the newspapers.” He was striding toward the door. “Step into Robaku’s pride and joy, Eve.”

  No hint of either pride or joy here, she thought, sick. She followed him slowly until she reached the doorway and stood staring into the half darkness. It was worse inside than it was outside.

  The desks…

  Most of them were blackened and destroyed, but a few of them had escaped the fires and sat there on the burnt-out floors as if they were waiting for the child who came to occupy them every day.

  Eve could feel her eyes sting. “Oh, shit.”

  She moved into the huge room. The blackboard…broken and melted.

  Something dark streaking the floor that was neither ash, nor dirt, nor burnt-out boards.

  “Jill was told that’s not blood on the floor,” Gideon said. “That Zahra had given permission for the blood to be cleansed when the body parts were taken from here.” His lips curled. “But since Zahra’s own people extracted the bodies, I wouldn’t give odds that they were careful about cleaning up the blood.”

  She couldn’t take her eyes from those dark streaks.

  He was looking at her face. “You don’t look well. Maybe I’d better get you out of here.”

  She paid no attention to him. She was being bombarded by visions of what must have happened here that morning. The children at their desks…The teacher at the blackboard…probably chatter and smiles filling the room. Everything normal and right, as it should be for children in a classroom. As it was in her son Michael’s classroom.

  “Did…they have any warning? Why didn’t they run away?”

  “No warning. The school is located on this hill at the far end of the village. It’s about a ten-minute walk to the village itself. Varak’s militia struck the school first, then went on to burn the village. Hajif said they heard the screams from the children and ran toward the school to save them. But it had already been torched by the time they got there. A few of the bodies found inside were parents who ran into the flames to try to save their children. But most of the villagers were hacked to pieces by the militia, who were waiting for them. The children were only bait.” He took her arm and was moving her toward the door. “And now I’m getting you out of here. Jill won’t be pleased that I let you get this upset. You’re done. You’ve seen it, you won’t forget it.”

  No, she’d never forget it, Eve thought. It wasn’t just the terrible ruins, it was as if the spirits of those children were still here…still waiting.

  She pulled her arm away. “It’s not as if I’m going to break down or anything, Gideon.” She concentrated on keeping her voice steady. “I’ve seen terrible things before in my career. It’s just that this is…overwhelming. I feel if I look over my shoulder, I might see them there.” She did not look over her shoulder, but at him. “I thought this Hajif was going to meet us here.”

  “He always asks if he can meet us at the museum a little down the road. It’s only a few yards away, and he finds this place pretty hard to take.” He was leading her farther into the jungle. They were passing a beautiful brook surrounded by tall boulders. It seemed odd that anything beautiful could exist this close to that atrocity, Eve thought dully. And Gideon was saying quietly, “Hajif’s grandson was killed in the massacre at the school.”

  Hajif. Eve thought for a moment, then made the connection with the biography Jill had written. “Hajif, grandfather of Amari, nine years old. Amari liked building model airplanes with his father. He wanted to be a pilot when he grew up…”

  “You have a good memory. His father was also killed in the massacre. Now there’s just Hajif and his wife, Leta, left.”

  “It doesn’t take a good memory to remember what Jill wrote about Robaku.” She changed the subject. “Museum? Jill never mentioned a museum.”

  “It’s part of Zahra’s memorial. Not that there are many museum artifacts there. Just a few trinkets and photos. She just wanted a place to entertain dignitaries and news media that would show her off to advantage and keep her designer outfits from being contaminated by the soot of the schoolhouse.” He lifted his head as a small black man with grizzled hair and lined face, dressed in flowing trousers and a loose white shirt, appeared, coming toward them. “Hajif.” He moved quickly toward the man and bowed. Then he rattled off something in an African dialect and turned to Eve. “Eve Duncan, Hajif. She came to see Amari and his friends and hopes she can be of service.”

  “Jill Cassidy told me of her.” The old man’s English was broken but his expression was desperately eager as he turned to Eve. “It’s we who should strive to serve you. Ask us, and it will be given.”

  “I don’t know if I can help you,” Eve said gently. “I’ll have to examine the skulls and see if the damage will prevent me from being able to measure and do the sculp
ting. I understand there was considerable…” She hesitated. She didn’t want to say that during fires, the brain often exploded and shattered the skull. “The fire might be a problem…”

  “But Jill said you are wonderful and can work with such problems. Is that not true?”

  “If there are no other elements that cannot be overcome.”

  Hajif was silent. “Please.” His dark eyes were glittering with moisture. “We need to see him at least one more time as he was. My wife, Leta, keeps hoping that Amari escaped into the jungle and is afraid to come home to the village. She will not listen to me. She said that head in the box is not her Amari.”

  Eve frowned. “Head in the box?”

  Gideon said quickly: “The remains of the children were sent to the American embassy to be kept at the medical lab there until they could be ID’d. But the villagers made such a fuss about the skulls being taken that they were allowed to keep them on-site until it was decided how to dispose of them.”

  “She kept them,” Hajif said. “It should not be. They belong to us.”

  “Zahra stepped in and took over the preservation of the skulls until the decision could be made,” Gideon said. “She put the skulls in her museum.”

  Eve stiffened. “What?”

  “With all due respect, of course,” he said ironically. “Blessed by the church. Properly preserved in specially crafted boxes.” He gestured to a sleek, modern, one-story, gray-stucco building. “Would you like to see them?”

  “Yes, I would.” She was already striding toward the museum. “Now!”

  The first thing she saw as she approached the building was the huge glass-enclosed gold-framed portrait of Zahra Kiyani beside the front door. Dressed in a white designer suit, she looked beautiful, sad, and dignified. Her arms were outstretched as if in welcome.

  Eve ignored it, threw open the glass door, and went inside. Clean, bright, beautifully tiled green-and-beige floors. Several glass cases with very few artifacts, as Gideon had said. “Where are those boxes?”

  Gideon nodded at a row of rust-colored leather boxes with elaborate gold lettering on the front. No names, just numerals. Not simple, dignified numerals, they were scrolled, then encircled with a fanciful design.

  Hajif came to stand beside Eve. “Her soldiers told us that Amari is probably in the fourth box. And if we would consent to have the DNA test, Madam President’s experts would be able to tell for certain.”

  And, until he consented, his grandson’s skull would remain in that beautifully crafted box like a forgotten library book on a shelf only yards from their village. Or even worse, a macabre reminder of his death at the hands of Varak and his butchers. Jill had told Eve that the U.N. officials wanted those children to be buried and forgotten, and it was clear Zahra Kiyani was also systematically working to make that happen. Why? It could only be that as the surviving ruler of the conflict, she wanted everyone to forget the details of that brutal struggle to secure her new image. Children were so often used as pawns.

  Eve could feel the anger begin to rise within her. It was all wrong. No one should forget those children. It was even worse than what had happened to Nora. At least the police were trying to find out what had happened to her. It didn’t matter that those butchers who had killed the children of Robaku were known and probably ended up butchered themselves. Their victims needed to come home to the people who had loved them.

  “Four?” Eve went behind the counter and looked at the glossy Roman numerals. “They said your grandson was numeral four?” She found the box and pulled it out. “And he was nine years old?” She laid the box on the counter and carefully opened it. The skull was blackened by fire but as carefully preserved as Gideon had said. “Let’s take a look…”

  “May I ask what you’re doing, Eve?” Gideon was gazing over her shoulder with interest.

  “Just checking to see how competent Zahra’s experts are. It’s not all that difficult to establish approximate age if you have the experience.” She took the skull out of the box and set it on the glass counter. She carefully went over the skull, paying particular attention to the teeth. “It’s a male, but the age is wrong. And the long bones of the face indicate he’s at least twelve. One of the older boys in the class.” She was trying to remember Jill’s notes. “There were two older boys…one was…Maha?”

  “Or Shaka,” Hajif said eagerly. “Shaka was thirteen, Maha twelve.”

  “I’d have to examine him more closely to determine which one he is.” Eve carefully replaced the skull in the box. “But he’s not your grandson, and that ‘expert’ who said he was is no expert.” She took the box to the back shelf and slipped it back in its place. “Your wife was right, Hajif. Your grandson might be in one of these boxes, but it’s not that one.”

  “But you will find him?” Hajif asked. “You will bring him back to us?”

  She stared helplessly at him. He wanted promises, and there were so many pitfalls that could get in the way of her giving him what he wanted. She wasn’t even sure if these were the skulls from Robaku. That had been a stupidly careless mistake about Amari’s age.

  “My wife needs to know,” Hajif said. “She…hurts.”

  And so was he hurting.

  And, dammit, there should be some way to ease that pain. They had lost enough, they had a right to know.

  She reached out and touched his shoulder. “Then we’d better do something to help her,” she said gently. “But I’ll need your help first, Hajif.”

  A brilliant smile lit his face. “You will do it? Anything. I will do anything.”

  “Will you get some men from the village to come here and take out all these display cases and shove them outside the building? Then I’ll need a level table put in the center of the room. I’ll show you how high it will have to be. And I’ll need a stool of some sort.”

  “Right away.” Hajif turned and moved quickly out of the museum.

  “Any orders for me?” Gideon was smiling faintly. “Am I to assume that you’re going to be delving into those boxes in the near future?”

  “Yes,” she said curtly. “Jill is going to feel very satisfied, isn’t she? I don’t give a damn. Those neat little boxes crafted of the finest leather with all those pretty gold letters made me go ballistic. They look like fashion accessories. I use boxes myself for transport. But this is pure showmanship, no dignity, no feeling. Zahra Kiyani made them part of her personal scenario. I want those kids out of those boxes.”

  “Obviously. You didn’t answer me. What can I do?”

  “Get me a cot to set up in here. I’ll probably be spending most of my nights in this blasted museum.”

  “That’s not necessary. And unless you’re into communal bathing, the hygiene arrangements will be awkward for you in the village. I’ve made reservations for you at the one decent hotel in Jokan. I can run you back and forth.”

  “Keep the reservations. I’ll need to use the room to shower occasionally. Otherwise, I can wash up in the bathroom here.”

  “How do you know there is one?”

  “Of course there’s a bathroom. You said that Zahra used this place to receive the media.” She was looking around the room. “And I bet it has a lovely mirror for touching up her makeup.” She saw a door across the room and strode toward it. She opened the door and glanced inside. “Yes, a great mirror with her traditional gold frame. I think I’m beginning to know Zahra Kiyani.”

  “Then heaven help you,” Gideon said softly.

  “I won’t need divine intervention. I’ll just stay out of her way and rely on Hajif and his people. I’ll work hard and fast and get through this job as quickly as possible.”

  “Twenty-seven children, Eve,” Gideon reminded her.

  “I’ll do as many as I can in the next month. I’ll arrange for the others to be done by someone competent after I have to leave.” She gave a last appraising glance at the bathroom and started to close the door. “Make certain I have towels, shampoo, and soap. That’s all I need for the ti
me being. Bring in my duffel from the car, will you? How many people in the village speak English?”

  “Probably only a handful. But you have Hajif if you need a translator. He said he’d do anything as I recall.” He paused. “And I’ll stay within ten minutes’ distance from you in case of emergencies.”

  “I’m not expecting any emergencies,” Eve said. “This is what I do. I’m in control here. I can handle anything that comes along.”

  “I can see that.” Gideon’s gaze was on her flushed cheeks and glittering eyes. “And you can’t wait, can you? Well, just know that I’m available.” He turned toward the door. “I’ll go get your duffel and find you a cot somewhere. You’re really staying here tonight? Why don’t you let me take you out to dinner and start tomorrow?”

  “Because tonight I’ll be going through all those skulls until I find one that fits Amari’s age and description. Then I’ll have to examine it and see if I can do what Hajif wants me to do.”

  “So Amari is going to be first?”

  “He has to be first. His grandparents want it so much that I couldn’t do anything else. After that, I’ll be able to try to be more selective.”

  “Then I’ll tell Jill that you have the initial process going at full speed.” He looked back over his shoulder. “Anything else?”

  “Bring in my computer and make sure I’ll have no problem with Internet while I’m here. That’s essential.”

  “You’ll need it for your work?”

  “Possibly for the final. But it’s principally because I planned on using it to Skype. I prefer it to my smartphone to contact family, and I won’t be stranded out here in the jungle and lose contact with my husband and son. That’s not acceptable.”

  “Ah, yes, the protective husband in the background? Dedication and total devotion on both sides of the coin. You’re an interesting woman, Eve Duncan. I believe I’m going to enjoy you.”

  “Interesting? You haven’t seen anything, Gideon. And I couldn’t care less if you enjoy me. Just get me what I tell you I need.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll definitely get you what you need. It will be my goal in life while we’re together.” He mockingly flipped his hand to his head in a half salute. “I’ll be back in a flash with the first installment.”