“Look, look, Guillermo. Tell me if you see anything strange.”
Guillermo does not enjoy Miguel’s warm, stale breath on his neck, but he’s totally mesmerized by what’s happening on the computer screen. It’s almost like he is there, witnessing the event in real life, or on reality TV.
Guillermo sees the car inch up a few more feet and stop dead. Instead of getting into the car as Ibrahim normally does, he places his forearms on the door and looks in as the passenger window rolls down. From this angle there is no way to see the driver.
A conversation ensues. How strange. Why doesn’t he just get into the car? Guillermo can only see Ibrahim’s right shoulder. Suddenly he notices what looks like a dark blob moving in the backseat, blocking the light from the back window for a fraction of a second. Either the passenger headrest has been raised or there is someone in the backseat.
“What’s that shadow?”
“Look, Guillermo. Look.”
Ibrahim raises his shoulders, opens the door, and sits down in his usual place. A few seconds go by as he puts on his seat belt, and then the car makes a right-angle turn and drives off slowly, back the way it came. At one point it is no more than ten feet from the car parked on the side of the road. About five seconds after Maryam’s car disappears from the camera’s view, the light-colored car whips around, throwing up a cloud of dust, and follows. For another ten seconds nothing can be seen but the driveway, the same edge of the guardhouse, and the cloud of dust rising from the pebbly ground and disappearing into the air. Then the view is frozen, there is no movement, and the screen turns black.
“You can play it again if you’d like. Move the cursor over the replay button and click.” Miguel shuffles away.
“There was someone tailing Maryam,” says Guillermo. It’s obvious to him that something made Ibrahim hesitate before stepping into the vehicle — perhaps there were three people inside — but for now he says nothing.
Miguel comes up to him with two goblets in his hand. “I think we both need this. Zacapa Añejo rum, twenty-three years old. It’s like drinking a Hennessey XO.”
Guillermo takes his goblet in his trembling hand and swallows it in one gulp. Another man who has been in the office the whole time — Miguel’s driver? — comes over with a bottle in his hand and refills Guillermo’s goblet.
“Just click on the button and the video will play.”
Guillermo watches the video again and discovers nothing new or strange. He keeps wondering if there’s someone else in the backseat, and believes Maryam may not be the driver.
After his third run-through (by this time, Miguel has sat down in another swivel chair beside him), Guillermo pushes back from the table. Miguel asks him if he has seen anything at all that might shed some light on who was in the light-colored car.
“The image isn’t very clear. And the camera’s too far away to read the license plate. In fact, I can’t even tell what kind of car it is.”
“The guard thought it might have been a Nissan; a Japanese or Korean car for sure.”
“That’s what Fulgencio said? I don’t know. Too grainy for me to see.”
“Anything else?” Miguel persists. “Anything that surprised you?”
Guillermo sits back in his chair. By now he has had three glasses of Zacapa in addition to the two rums he had at Café Europa, and his head is whirling out of control. Even as he talks, he replays the tape in his head. He has seen a couple of things that don’t make sense. He’s wavering, but finally decides to reveal his doubts to Miguel, whom he is beginning to embrace as a kind of guardian angel or a kindred soul.
“You know that I came down with Ibrahim several times from his office and joined him with Maryam before returning to work at his office in the afternoon. Never in all those occasions did I see Maryam stop the car short and wait for her father to come to her. And certainly Maryam would never roll down the window and speak to her father from the driver’s seat while he stood outside in the sun. He would simply get into the car, and she would drive away.”
“So what does that tell you?”
“I don’t know. It’s a bit crazy, but maybe Maryam wasn’t the person driving.”
Guillermo signals for Miguel to watch the tape with him for a fourth time. When he gets to the part where Ibrahim is about to step into the car, he stops the tape. “Take a look into the car. For an instant you’ll see a dark blob block the sunlight from the back. It’s as if someone in the backseat suddenly sits up for a split second and then lies back down.”
Miguel takes the tape off pause and it begins rolling again. It all happens very quickly. There is little to see, nothing more than a strobe blocking a spot of light. It doesn’t seem significant to him, not enough of a clue to matter. “You are seeing things, Guillermo. Sometimes your mind wants your eyes to see something that’s not really there.”
“It’s there, all right.” Guillermo rubs his face with both hands. “I know what I know.”
“What would a third person in the car mean? And who would that person be?”
“I said I don’t know.”
“Think, man!”
“Her husband Samir,” Guillermo lies. “Maybe he came along to watch them die!”
Miguel pauses, then touches Guillermo’s neck. “My dear man, you’re consumed by grief. I only showed you this tape so you could see the unmarked car. The killing was set up, but not by Samir. I know you were in love with Maryam, and that she wanted to leave her husband to marry you, but you can’t let this passion of yours confuse you.”
Without opening his eyes, Guillermo shakes his head. “How do you know these things about me? We kept our affair an absolute secret.”
“My friend, there was no other way to interpret your comments at the memorial service. Anyone would have guessed you were sad over the death of your client, but grief-stricken over the death of his daughter. If Samir Mounier wanted Ibrahim and Maryam killed, he wouldn’t be lying down in the backseat. He would simply hire someone to murder them and be miles from the scene. Actionable information develops from credible evidence. I’m afraid you are not providing credible evidence. No, I suspect there’s someone else who wanted to have Ibrahim killed, and had the means and the connections to plan it. That’s where we must look to find the murderers. Maryam, as much as you loved her, was collateral damage. She was never the target. Once the assassins planned to kill Ibrahim, the death of his daughter became just one more unfortunate piece of news.”
“But what if Samir wanted them both killed?”
Miguel scratches his chin. “It’s fair to assume Samir may have wanted Maryam killed to prevent her from getting together with you. I know you separated from your own wife and children months ago, and that they’re living in Mexico City with her uncle. Only you know if Maryam would have ever left her husband. It’s also true that with Ibrahim dead, Samir will now inherit the factory and the business, which will make him a very rich man, but I don’t find any of this likely.”
Guillermo drops his head onto the desk. He’s tired. And drunk. Moreover, he’s angry, full of hate, and quite confused. He glances up at Miguel, who has a knowing look on his face.
“You’ve set me up for this. You went to the funeral service hoping I would be there so you could talk to me afterward.”
“Guillermo, I did no such thing.”
“You had this tape ready for me, ready to roll as soon as I walked in.”
“It’s true. I was hoping someone would say something that would make me want to show him this tape, but I didn’t know it would be you. Not today. I was planning to call you at your office in a couple of days and invite you to lunch.”
“You know so much about me.”