The Ghost Runner (43 page)

‘He was in love with you,’ said Makana. ‘Is that so strange?’

Zahra shifted her position in the dark and stubbed out her cigarette on the floor. ‘Why do men need to have everything they see?’

‘Maybe because they are afraid.’

‘Afraid of what?’

‘I don’t know. Perhaps of losing something they have never had?’

‘They took me in order to teach him a lesson. I find that tragic. Don’t you?’ She laughed softly to herself in the gloom.

‘What is it?’

‘There’s something about you. The first time we met I thought you were different. I said to myself, he’s like me. He doesn’t need anything or anyone. I thought that we . . . well, what does it matter now?’

‘It’s not too late, Zahra.’

‘Aren’t you going to arrest me?’

‘I don’t have the authority to arrest anyone and besides, the next time Hamama sees me he is as likely to lock me up as you.’

‘Then let’s run away, together. We could go now, tonight.’ For a brief moment they floated on a cloud of her own making. ‘Couldn’t we do that?’

Why couldn’t they? Why not run away and start a new life together? What was to stop them? There was no real evidence against her. On the contrary, Hamama would soon have enough of his own problems, and besides, he had already pinned the murders on Luqman. He wasn’t interested in reopening the case.

‘Don’t you want to know?’ she asked as she took another cigarette from him.

‘Know what?’

‘What they did to me?’ The tiny flutter of hope had gone from her voice. Now she sounded flat and lifeless, as if nothing in the world would be able to restore her. There was a hard edge to her voice now, as if the child she had recalled earlier had been erased. Makana was silent. He wished there was something he could say that could make all of this go away, to alleviate her pain, but there was nothing, only darkness.

‘They came for me one night,’ she began. ‘I was alone at home. I heard them talking about teaching the doctor a lesson he would never forget. I had no idea what they were talking about.’ She spoke matter of factly, as if describing something that had happened to someone else.

‘Did Nagat know about the attack?’

‘I don’t think so. I think she believed that it was nothing to do with her, or Musab. People turned against her. They had to flee, both of them. Wad Nubawi gathered his men and regained control. Everyone knew Musab had ordered the attack on me.’ The sound of a car outside in the street caused her to break off her story. When it had passed by she carried on.

‘They left you for dead. How did you manage to survive?’

‘When they came for me that evening, I ran. They chased me through the fields. I remember running and running until I was too tired to run any more. They caught me and threw me into the back of the car. Then they drove me out into the desert where no one would see their filthy deeds.’

In the dark Makana could only hear her breath coming in short stabs as she fought to control her emotions. He lit their cigarettes and thought the acrid smoke would make him vomit.

‘I thought I would die out there. I wanted to die. I lay there and watched the sun go down and it felt like the last night on earth. Then the stars came out and I was cold, so cold. My whole body was shaking. More than the physical pain I felt dirty, worthless. I felt lower than any other creature in the world. I simply wanted to die. So I lay there and looked at the stars and waited for them to seize me. That’s how I felt. If I just closed my eyes for the last time I would float up into the stars and disappear for ever.’

‘But you didn’t die.’ He felt as though she might just melt into the darkness.

‘I opened my eyes and found that I was still alive. I must have been in shock. I stripped off what was left of my clothes. Everything, rings and all, and I walked into the desert. I just wanted it to swallow me up for ever. It didn’t. A family of Bedouin found me. I don’t know what they must have thought. A half-dead girl lying naked in the sand in the middle of nowhere. The man carried me back to the camp and they nursed me back to health. They were the kindest people I have ever met. They never asked me questions. They gave me clothes and food. I was so weak I couldn’t stand. I must have lost a lot of blood. They took me across the desert with them. For three months I didn’t say a word. I had no will to go on. Gradually, though, I learned how to live like them, to take care of the camels, to help gather firewood, pack and unpack the camp. It was as if I had really died and been born again. That was when I became Zahra. My old self as Safira was left behind. I never wanted to go back there. Never.’ Her voice swam towards him like a distant echo. ‘I knew I would have to leave them one day and eventually I did. I made it to Cairo. I began studying again. I trained to be a nurse. I wanted to help women. I joined an organisation.’

‘And one day you found your sister.’

‘It was quite by accident. I didn’t know she was in Cairo. By then I was working for an organisation that gave assistance to women who lacked family support. One day there she was. Musab had gone, and she was dying of liver failure. I can’t tell you what I felt. On the one hand I wanted to kill her for what she did to me. On the other hand she was the only family I had in the world. She told me that she hadn’t known about it, that she didn’t realise until years later what he had done and that since then she had refused to have anything to do with him.’ Zahra covered her eyes with a hand. ‘I had built up so much hate for her over the years, and now it no longer seemed worth it. Karima made all the difference. Nagat had a young daughter. She begged me to take care of her when she was gone.’

Somewhere in the distance an owl gave a long, plaintive cry that sounded almost human. On the examination table above them Wad Nubawi stirred. Zahra waited until all was still and calm again before carrying on.

‘I felt as though I was finally reconciled with my life. Finally, I could put it all behind me. I was living in a hostel and Karima was running the shop, but as soon as we found a place we could afford we were going to live together. Then one night Karima called me in a terrible state. She was terrified. Musab had just appeared out of nowhere. When he left she had been a small child, and before that he was in prison. She could barely remember him. Now he was back. He told the craziest story, about being kidnapped in the middle of the night and blindfolded and carried in an aeroplane from Europe to a prison somewhere. He seemed delirious. He wanted money. I went there to try and help Karima. When he saw me he thought he had lost his mind, that he was being persecuted in some strange way. He accused me of being a witch. Karima knew some of the story, but not all of it. Now he started to bring out all the details, insulting me at the same time. He laughed and said we were all whores. Not just me, but Nagat too, that Karima wasn’t his daughter and no doubt she would turn out to be a whore too. He had some idea Nagat had betrayed him while he was in prison.’

‘With Ragab.’

‘Exactly. His lawyer, your client,’ Zahra managed a weak smile. ‘You remember that afternoon in the market? When we sat and talked? All you wanted to talk about was Karima and who had killed her, and I could hardly speak. I wanted to tell you everything, but I couldn’t. Everything was turning around in my head. It was as if the past had leapt out of the ground to swallow me up.’

Zahra paused once again as if she had lost the thread. Her head kept dropping as though she was nodding off.

Makana started to rise. ‘Let me see if Doctor Medina is awake. He should take a look at your wound.’

‘No.’ She reached out and clutched his hand. ‘Please, just stay with me.’

Reluctantly, Makana sank back to the floor and she went on with her story.

‘Karima was scared. She didn’t want to be alone with Musab and insisted I stay the night with her. I couldn’t. I was on night shift at the hospital and they are always looking for an excuse to fire you. And besides, seeing Musab had brought back too many memories. I couldn’t deal with it. I needed time myself. I needed to remember who I had become, not the victim I had once been. So I left her there alone with him. The next day when I came back the place had burnt down and Karima was in intensive care.’

‘Why didn’t you tell anyone all this?’

‘The truth? Who would believe me? That a man who has been out of the country for years had appeared out of nowhere to set fire to the place and then vanish? And besides, if the police took an interest and started investigating me they would find I was living under another name. No. There were too many risks. Nobody would ever believe me.’

‘And you’re sure it was Musab who set fire to the place?’

‘Who else? He was terrified out of his mind, completely paranoid. He kept saying he had been tortured. He thought we were witches.’ She sighed and her head dropped.

‘Let me get the doctor,’ Makana urged. ‘You can’t go on like this.’

‘Please, I need you to understand this. All of it. It’s important.’ She leaned towards him, until her head rested on his shoulder. ‘I wish I could take it all back. The poison. The anger. I told myself that it had to be done. I had to rid the world of these monsters and I had to show them why.’

‘Which is why you mutilated the bodies?’

‘It had to be done.’ She pulled away from him, straightening up. ‘Don’t you see? It’s not just about me, it’s about Karima, too. It’s about all the women whose cases I dealt with over the years.’ She broke off and he sensed that she was shaking. ‘I wanted people to see, to understand what they had done and why they had to die. It’s what has been done to women for years.’ She stared into the darkness ahead of her. ‘That’s why I had to stop. I realised it would never be enough, that there was no end to it. That I would never get back what they had taken from me, and even worse . . . that I was turning into one of them. I was becoming the monster.’

A groan from the examination table made her break off. Wad Nubawi was stirring.

‘Revenge is not as simple as you think. I wanted to get all of them, but I picked off the weakest first. A retarded boy and a fat old man. After that I couldn’t go on. This was to be the last.’

‘Makana, is that you in there?’

‘Doctor. Come through.’ Makana got to his feet. I was just going to come and find you.’

‘I have a terrible headache.’ Doctor Medina hung in the doorway like a sorrowful bear. ‘What happened to you, anyway? I thought Sadig—’

‘Sadig ran into troubles of his own. Can you take a look at someone? She’s been stabbed. I don’t think it’s too bad but there’s a lot of blood.’

‘Another patient? My, we are busy tonight.’ Doctor Medina rubbed his eyes. ‘This place looks like a storm hit it. I need to tidy up. Where is this patient of yours?’ As he spoke Zahra rose to her feet, leaning on Makana’s arm. The doctor stared at her for a long time.

‘Hello, Doctor.’

‘I . . . Have we met before?’ Doctor Medina squinted, then he moved over and switched on the overhead lights. For a long moment his face seemed to register nothing and then shock mixed with disbelief and a dozen other emotions all contorted his expression. ‘You’re supposed to be dead.’

‘She will be if you don’t do something about this wound,’ said Makana.

‘Yes, of course. Right away. I don’t understand. How . . . ?’ He glanced back and forth between the woman and Makana as he turned to begin scrubbing his hands in the sink.

‘There will be time to talk later, Doctor,’ said Makana.

‘Yes, naturally. I just . . . I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting . . .’

Whatever the doctor had been about to say was cut off as Wad Nubawi came awake with a loud gasp. He groaned and rolled away to begin throwing up over the side of the metal examination table. Makana handed Zahra to Doctor Medina and went over.

‘Who’s there?’ Wad Nubawi fumbled blindly. ‘Who is it?’

‘It’s me, Makana.’

‘Where am I? What am I doing here?’

‘You’re in the doctor’s clinic. Do you remember being attacked?’

‘Of course I remember,’ Wad Nubawi pushed Makana away from him. ‘You think I’m a fool or something?’ He struggled to his feet. As he rose up he saw Zahra. He squinted at her. Puzzlement turned to anger and he stepped forward and slapped her across the face. ‘You’re the one?
Sharmuta!
’

‘Don’t call her that.’

It took a moment for Makana to realise that Doctor Medina had backed away and was holding the same automatic he had had earlier. Sadig must have missed it, or in his haste to chase Makana had dropped it. A smile, more of pity than amusement, spread across Wad Nubawi’s face.

‘Come on, Doctor. Who are you trying to fool here? It’s me, remember? I know what a pathetic little man you are. You hide away in the dark and drown yourself in drink.’

As he spoke he turned towards the doctor, steadily, without hesitation, and when he was within reach he slapped him, hard across the side of his head. Doctor Medina staggered back. A second, backhanded blow followed, sending him reeling against the wall. Somehow he managed to retain his grip on the automatic. He straightened up and fired, without even pausing to aim. Then the two men were struggling for the gun which Doctor Medina refused to relinquish. It didn’t take long for Wad Nubawi to subdue the doctor but by then Makana’s attention was elsewhere.

Zahra had slumped back against the counter and Makana realised that at least one of the stray shots must have hit her. As she slid to the floor, Makana knelt beside her. He could see the tear in the front of her garment and blood pulsing out.