عكاس

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Cameraman

Silvia met Philippe in a park on the east side of the city. He kissed her and they sat down on a wooden seat. She looked at his long, dirty hair and his tired eyes.

“Is Simon part of this” Silvia asked. “Are you part of it? Why are you here?”

Philippe looked at her. His silence scared her.

“I’ve done something terrible,” he said in English. “Somebody called me - one of Kuman’s people. I thought it was one of Kuman’s people. He wanted to organize a meeting with Xola.

‘We have to work together,’ he said. ‘It’s the only way we can fight Zuwanie.’”

“What happened” Silvia asked.

He took her hands. “I told Xola. I was excited. I thought that it was the end of the fight between them. But we were tricked. Xola’s dead.”

Silvia tried to pull her hands away. “I knew he was dead,” she whispered. “I felt it. Who was with him?”

Philippe shook his head and looked away from her, across the park.

“No, Simon wasn’t there. Just Xola. I stayed in the car. Nobody came back out.”

“Where’s my brother” Silvia asked.

“I don’t know,” Philippe said. “He’s hiding somewhere. I don’t think they have him.”

“Have him? You think Kuman has Simon?”

“I don’t know. It’s all crazy. We try to stop the fighting, but we can’t. People see my photos in the newspaper and turn the page. You were smart to leave the country.”

“I can’t forget completely,” Silvia said. “Simon is still there. I have to find him. I have to know he’s OK.”

Philippe was almost crying now. “Do you understand what I did? I took Xola to them,” he said.

“You didn’t know,” Silvia said.

“I have to go. I’m sorry. I tried to help.”

“You didn’t kill Xola,” Silvia shouted, as he walked away.

King watched Philippe leave the park. He followed him to the Chelsea Hotel, then he called Ostroff.

“Stay with him,” he said.

As Silvia got off her motorcycle outside her apartment building, Tobin ran up to her.

“You can’t disappear! You have to tell me where you’re going,” he said angrily. “How can I protect you?”

“That’s not your job,” Silvia said. “Remember?”

“It’s different now, since the man in the mask,” Tobin said Jowly. “We’re watching you from an apartment across the street. Who was the man in the park?”

“It’s personal,” Silvia said quickly.

“No. No, I need to know. What’s his name?”

“It’s not your business,” Silvia said, and started to walk away.

“We have your phone records. You called someone,” Tobin aid. Silvia stopped. “You called him, didn’t you? The night before you went to Chief Wu. Before you told us about the voice in the hall. Why? Is he part of the plan to kill Zuwanie?”

Silvia looked worried. Tobin continued.

“Was that him? Here? Now? In my country? This is my business.”

“You’re wrong,” Silvia said. “It’s not your business.” Then she turned away from him and ran up to the apartment. She locked the door and walked into the living room.

There was an old wooden box on the table. She opened it and took out some photos: Silvia on the farm, age 15; Silvia and Simon in front of a fire; Silvia, Simon, and Xola in a cafe in Paris.

It was late, but Silvia couldn’t sleep. She turned on the TV and watched the news. There were pictures of Zuwanie in Africa and of the protesters outside the U.N building.

“Is Dr. Zuwanie in danger during his visit to New York” the reporter asked. “As we can see, the police are closing the roads to the airport.”

Kuman-Kuman was interviewed. “How is a madman able to speak at the United Nations” he asked angrily. “He’ll lie about changes that he’s never going to make. Zuwanie wants to stay in Matobo as president. People only have to think that someone is trying to kill him. That’s enough to make him stronger.”

Dot sat in the apartment across the street and watched Silvia through the window. The apartment door opened, and Tobin came in. He was carrying a bag.

“She can’t sleep,” Dot said. “She just turned the TV on.”

She picked up her purse.

“Where are you going” Tobin asked.

“Home. You’re here with your bag, so I can go now.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Tobin watched the news program on TV. Suddenly, his cell phone rang.

“Keller,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” Silvia said. “I didn’t know you were watching me earlier.”

“Tell me what happened,” Tobin said.

“I had to meet someone.”

Tobin looked at the photos on the desk. They showed Silvia and the man in the park.

“Philippe Broullet,” he said. “He takes photos for a French newspaper.”

“He wanted to talk to me.”

“And now you’re watching TV because you can’t sleep,” Tobin said. “What did he say to you?”

Silvia looked at the window. “How do you know.? Are you across the street?” She moved to the window and saw him.

“Philippe told me” she said softly. “We lost a friend. He lost a friend. I lost somebody that I loved a long time ago. I spend a lot of time trying to remember Africa. Now it’s everywhere.” She was silent for a minute, and then she continued, “Why am I calling you? What do you do when you can’t sleep?”

“I stay awake,” Tobin said. He heard her laugh. “You don’t name the dead,” he continued. “Why? What happens?”

“You move past them,” Silvia said softly. “You leave them behind. You’re having a hard time.”

“Yes,” Tobin said. “And I know you are, too.”

They were both silent, then Silvia said, “Will you be there until the morning?”

“Yes, I’ll be here.”

“I’ll try to fall asleep while we’re on the phone. Is that OK?”

“That’s fine,” Tobin said.

He watched her through the window. She went into the bedroom and lay down. The phone was still in her hand. It was quiet for a long time, then she whispered, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Tobin said into the phone.