Free Brother Kemal by Jakob Arjouni

was. Frankfurt by night! If the Foreigners’ Party was ever really founded, I probably wasn’t going to get an invitation from Marieke to become a member.
    She freed herself from her mother’s arms, got up from the garden path and reached for her leather bag. ‘I’m going in now, I’m rather tired. I’ll tell you all about it later. Is Papa back?’
    ‘But darling, Papa won’t be back until next week.’
    ‘Oh no, so he won’t. Did you …’ Marieke cast me a quick sideways glance.
    ‘No, I didn’t tell him anything.’
    ‘Okay. Then I’ll go in.’ But she turned to me once more, looked at me and finally said, surprisingly seriously and from the heart, ‘Thank you, Herr Magelli. For the taxi, and everything else.’
    I nodded. ‘You’re welcome.’
    Valerie de Chavannes and I watched Marieke as she disappeared through the open front door into the hall of the villa. Then Valerie de Chavannes stood up too, brushed the dust off her white silk trousers, and looked anxiously into my eyes.
    I raised a hand in a soothing gesture and said softly, ‘It’s all okay. As far as I can judge, they really were just talking about photographs. As I suspected: a little dream to change the world, a little creativity, a little tea drinking. And as for Abakay’ – I lowered my voice a little more – ‘I think you’ll be rid of him for a time. Probably a very long time.’
    Valerie de Chavannes closed her eyes in relief, and ran her hand over her face, rubbing it. ‘Oh God! Thank you – thank you very, very much!’
    But when she dropped her hand and opened her eyes again, the anxious look was back. ‘What do you mean by a very long time?’
    ‘Well, maybe two or three years. I’m not a judge.’
    ‘You mean he’ll have to go to prison?’ Her voice took on a touch of hysteria – whether for joy, or horror at having come so close to a kind of criminality that could carry a jail sentence, I wasn’t sure.
    ‘I’d assume so. But I’d rather not explain the circumstances. If Abakay ever finds a connection between you and me, I think it will be better if you know as little as possible about the dirt he has sticking to him. Let me reassure you: his criminal deeds have nothing to do with Marieke. Abakay is a nasty character, but as for your daughter, I think he tried more or less the same number on her as he did with you:
Frankfurt in the Shadow of the Banking Towers
, social injustice, blah blah blah …’
    I was thinking of the trembling girl I had found in Abakay’s apartment, smeared with her own vomit, and I wasn’t feeling very good about it.
    So I didn’t immediately notice the change in Valerie de Chavannes’s expression. All of a sudden I took in her horrified, injured look. As if I’d insulted her severely. And then I realised why:
as for your daughter, I think he tried more or less the same number on her as he did with you
.
    And because
the same number as he did with you
really mattered in only one context, the next question was obvious.Valerie de Chavannes took a deep breath before saying, with as much self-control as she could manage, ‘He didn’t pull off any number on me. He’d have liked to, but let me make it clear to you, Herr Kayankaya: it didn’t work.’ And then, visibly summoning up all her courage, she asked, ‘Do you think Marieke has slept with him?’
    I hesitated. Her seriousness was infectious. ‘I’ve no idea, but I don’t think so. Marieke seems to me too sensible for that. Maybe they made out a bit …’
     … 
Clever, demanding upper-class girl, political interests, likes conversations, will go to great lengths in her search for adventure if the tone is right, ready for almost anything …
    ‘You don’t have children, do you? You can’t know how much I hope you’re right.’
    ‘I can imagine, though.’
    ‘Suppose …’ She stopped, thought about what she wanted to say. ‘Suppose Abakay doesn’t have to go to prison – maybe a clever lawyer could fix it