Allegiance (27 page)

Mohammed’s room was in a block on the south side of the complex, a row of concrete buildings which served as stables in bygone years. There was accommodation for twelve students in this block, each with his own room, which was nothing more than a three-by-two-metre area with a door and a small window which was set too high to see anything out of. The stable door was still the way in, and the room was lit with an overhead tungsten globe which made it intolerably hot. Mohammed’s single bed was set against one wall, a small desk opposite it. A laptop lay open on the table and various books and files lay on the floor underneath. Ruslan went to the cupboard under the window and pulled it open. He put his hand in and felt around the area where a pile of shoes lay. How did Mohammed live in this hole? Perspiration glistened on Ruslan’s arms and he felt his confidence at completing the operation melt away in the heat. He’d given Reno the name but the name wasn’t enough. Reno wanted evidence that Mohammed was the target. He would not disappoint Reno. And he would not disappoint the Almighty. Two minutes later, he was done and as he exited the stable, he looked over his shoulder to make sure everything was the same as when he’d arrived. Satisfied, he left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. He made his way to the mosque, his spirits lifted. Allahu Akbar. God is great.

The Sibaya Casino wasn’t Shabalala’s favourite meeting place. First off, he didn’t like gambling. It was a smart business model designed to look like entertainment, wrapped in sugar-coated marketing and calculated to fulfil one purpose only – to persuade you to feed your money to a machine connected to a computer which was programmed to repay only a fraction of what was put in. Unless you were one of the few who found favour in the world of random arithmetic, the chances were good you’d leave poorer than when you arrived. Second, it was very close to the centre, a mere two or three kilometres. But it was convenient for Ruslan. He said no one from the centre would venture to the casino – strictly forbidden – haram. They would use other casinos where their chances of being spotted by the imam, or, God forbid, the sheikh, were minimal. Unless the imam and sheikh were also hunched over the machines, with their caps pulled down low over their faces, in which case the ‘I didn’t see you if you didn’t see me’ rule would apply.

Durant always told Shabalala the casinos were good places for meeting dangerous or dodgy characters. They would have to pass though the metal detectors first so you’d know they weren’t carrying any weapons. And then, just about every square metre of the building is covered by
CCTV
so one could always go back to the footage if anything went wrong. But Shabalala didn’t consider Ruslan dangerous or dodgy, so he thought it wasn’t necessary to go right in. Instead, the meeting was held in a quiet garden outside, just past the arched bridge which led down to the theatre.

Ruslan greeted Shabalala with a wave. ‘Thank you for coming, Reno.’

‘Have you got something for me?’

Ruslan’s hand went into his pocket and emerged with a plastic wrapper. ‘I went into Faizel’s room last night, looked around. I found this.’

Ruslan handed Shabalala the wrapper.

‘You went into Faizel Mohammed’s room? On whose authority?’

‘It was open. I didn’t break in. I just walked in.’

Shabalala shook his head, for a moment forgetting about the wrapper in his hand. ‘But still. There are due processes. Leave the investigating to us. You gave us the lead, that was all you had to do. What’s this?’

‘I found it in his shoe cupboard. I didn’t have much time to look around. It’s a label. Look carefully at the print on it.’

Shabalala held it up and looked at the small print.

Durant read the print on the wrapper and there was a discernible tremble to his voice when he spoke. ‘Powergel explosives.’

‘Isn’t this where we say “bingo”?’

‘No, we can’t. Not yet. Ruslan took it from Mohammed’s room. It’s not admissible evidence.’

‘But at least we know we’re targeting the right person. I’m sure
SAPS
can apply for a search warrant. I spoke to Mr Masondo earlier. The sheikh confirmed Faizel Mohammed is a bit of a problem child. A real hothead, attention-seeker. He says most of the people at the centre just laugh him off.’

Durant shrugged. ‘Well, we can’t just laugh him off. I wish we had more time to do this properly. It feels like we’re rushing it.’

‘Because we
are
rushing it. An American warship’s in our harbour in a couple of days and one of the most important American officials will be in our city. With Mohammed in custody we can tell the Americans their lady will be safe here.’

‘I hear you. But to arrest him we need evidence. How sure are you that there’s explosives hidden in that guy’s room?’ Durant froze in thought for a moment and then smiled.

‘What? What, Kevin?’ Shabalala punched his colleague lightly on the shoulder to bring him back.

‘I’ve got an idea, but keep it to yourself, it’s an unofficial idea.’

Shabalala put his hands up. ‘No, please, I don’t want to hear your unofficial idea. Once I hear it, I’m part of it.’

Durant smiled. ‘You’re part of it anyway. You’ve got a stash of clean prepaid cards, haven’t you?’

‘I’m not giving one to you to do something unofficial with. I’m sorry, I don’t work like that.’

‘Come on, Ced, it’s a good cause. It’s going to get us into the centre without a warrant and quite legitimately so. I just need to make a call from a clean
SIM
card and phone.’

Ruslan swung the sheikh’s Mercedes through the gates of the centre and slowed down when he counted three, four police cars and a police minibus parked outside the reception area, their blue lights flashing. Had they come for Mohammed? That was quick. He could hear the barking of dogs and the crackle of police radios. He turned the Mercedes into the visitor’s parking and motioned to one of the staff. ‘What’s this all about?’ he asked.

‘Bomb scare. Somebody phoned. The bomb squad’s checking now. We can’t go back in until they’ve finished.’

Ruslan smiled at the creativity of someone. The sniffer dogs would find traces of explosives in Faizel’s room. Very clever. Deceptive, but clever. He dialled Shabalala’s number from his prepaid cellphone.

‘Hello, Reno. Congratulations. Your plan should work.’

‘What plan?’ Shabalala asked.

‘Your bomb scare plan. Very smart. I commend you.’

‘I will speak to you later,’ Shabalala said, and ended the call.

Shabalala looked flustered when he entered Durant’s office. ‘That’s a crime. I should report you.’

Durant laughed. ‘I didn’t lie. I said there were explosives at the centre. You and I know that’s probably true.’

‘But the way you did it. Phoning in a bomb hoax.’

‘If there’s five kilograms of Powergel at the centre, then it’s not a hoax call, is it?’

‘So if they find the explosives, you think you’re off the hook?’

‘Look, Ced, there was no quick way of getting a search warrant based on circumstantial evidence. Ruslan brought us evidence we couldn’t use. I just helped the process along.’

‘Using illegitimate means.’

‘No, using a well-established intelligence tradition called “deception”. My motive was pure. It’ll achieve our objective.’

‘What if they don’t find anything?’

‘My motive was still pure. We had to be sure. But I’m pretty sure they’ll find something.’

Durant’s phone rang and Masondo spoke so loud, Shabalala could hear every word.

‘Are you responsible for this, Durant?’

‘What are you referring to, Chief?’

‘This cheap, treacherous and downright illegal way of getting the police to find explosives in Mohammed’s room without a search warrant?’

‘I’m responsible, sir.’

‘Well done, my boy. I would never have thought of using a bomb scare to gain access. We don’t mention this again, you understand me? If anybody else asks you, you deny it. Were the
SIM
card and phone clean?’

‘Of course, sir, untraceable.’

‘Deny it, Kevin, okay? It never happened. I just got a call from the area commander. The dogs found traces of explosives in Mohammed’s room. They’ve taken him into custody and seized a whole lot of documents and a laptop computer. So, again, well done.’

‘Well done for what, sir? I didn’t do anything.’

‘That’s the right response, Mr Durant. Now, I want you and Mr Shabalala to meet a
SAPS
captain from Crimes Against the State at police headquarters. You be there for the questioning. We need to be sure we’ve neutralised this threat completely so that I can give the Americans the reassurance.’

‘Fine, sir. Done.’

‘And get Amina in. She’s Muslim. Make her part of this investigation. Only her body left the Agency; her mind and soul still belong to us.’

Crimes Against the State had a strangely Orwellian ring to it, Durant thought. But, then again, so did State Security Agency. The
CAS
intelligence branch offices were semi-covert – the nature of their targets called for this – and, from what Durant could see, well funded. The furnishings were upmarket, pictures hung on the walls and there were even office plants. Men and women were at their desks, pounding away at their computer keyboards while others gathered in groups, poring over maps and aerial photographs. To Durant, this felt like a different police force from the one he’d reported Mariam’s murder to a few short days ago. Captain Nick Pather’s handshake was firm and confident. He showed Durant and Shabalala into a small office and closed the door behind him.

‘Gentlemen. I’m carrying the docket on this Mohammed guy and I’d be grateful if you gave me everything you’ve got on him. He’s never come to our attention before. Our file on the sheikh is thicker than his.’

‘We’ve just had anecdotal stuff about Mohammed. Information suggesting he has some radical views and that his fellow students don’t really take him seriously,’ Durant said.

‘We knew a threat was made to the
US
from the centre, but didn’t have any specific suspect,’ Shabalala added.

‘Until now,’ Pather said. ‘He’s denying any involvement in terrorism or radicalism and maintains he was set up. The explosive traces in his room are pretty conclusive. Forensics haven’t confirmed it’s Powergel, but the wrappings are from Powergel charges, the type used in the mines.’

‘And by the
ATM
bombers,’ Durant put in. ‘A consignment was stolen a while back – about five kilograms of it. How much did the sniffer dogs find?’

‘Not that much. Just traces, a few grams on the wrappers. So there’s still a large quantity out there?’

‘I’m afraid so,’ Durant said. ‘So we need to ask Mohammed very nicely where the rest is, and who he’s working with. My boss said you’d seized documents and a laptop. How long before we know what’s in there?’

Pather shrugged his shoulders. ‘Could be weeks. The cybercrime guys need to go through the laptop, and we’ll have to send the documents to Pretoria for analysis.’

‘We don’t have weeks,’ Shabalala said. ‘We don’t even have days. This process needs to be fast-tracked; the
US
Assistant Secretary of State for Africa arrives in a few days.’

‘I heard. We got the brief. They’re locking Durban down.’

‘You know there’s also a
US
warship sailing into our harbour?’

‘Heard that too. Look, the suspect will be in custody until his court appearance, so we might have some time to investigate this thing.’

‘We need to know if we’ve neutralised this threat completely,’ Durant said, silently knowing that his Christmas plans were ruined either way.

‘I understand your concerns, but these processes take time. It’s a few days before Christmas; it’s the worst time to get anything done. Most people are on leave, the labs close. I’m also working with a skeleton staff here.’

‘What about the suspect? Have you questioned him?’ Durant asked.

‘We can’t question him without his lawyer. Khan and Khan are representing him.’

‘Khan and Khan? Who’s paying?’ The firm had a reputation for defending the meanest and most evil scoundrels in Durban and usually winning the cases. They didn’t come cheap.

‘The centre, apparently.’

‘It’s a strange world,’ Shabalala said. ‘We don’t know our enemies any more. Is anybody on our side?’

Durant smiled. ‘Maybe we could suggest that you guys work with the fbi. One of their special agents is in Durban investigating this thing. I know they have vast resources, resources we can only dream about. Maybe that’ll speed things up?’

‘As long as there’s no interference in the case,’ Pather said. ‘We need to be careful of political and religious sensitivities. It’s a minefield, and we don’t want to get ourselves into trouble. I’ll work with anyone who’s willing to accept that I’m the investigating officer and I maintain control over the case. I’ll work with the
FBI
under those conditions.’

‘I’ll put it to our boss,’ Durant said.

Masondo frowned and, for the first time since Durant had met him, he saw the lines on his face were deeper, more pronounced. Durant was relieved he was in the field, operational. He didn’t have to deal with senior management’s wrath every day. Masondo had the miserable task of keeping his team motivated and also reassuring his chiefs that progress was being made. The arrest of Mohammed had, to a limited extent, mitigated the effect of the explosion at the dump site, but Durant knew there were still many questions that needed answers. Masondo slapped the newspaper contemptuously with the back of his hand. ‘The sheikh says he is pleased that radical forces aimed at discrediting the centre and the benevolent work it does have been rooted out. The centre is committed to peace and dialogue and building bridges and is unequivocally against violence of any form.’

Durant smiled at Masondo. ‘So the sheikh thanks us?’

‘He’s openly condemned the use of his centre as a “nest of terror” as he calls it and welcomes the arrest of one of the students on suspicion of terrorism. Have we joined all the dots, Kevin? Is this it?’

‘I don’t know, Chief.’