The Cassandra Sanction

Chapter Seventeen

The Iranian’s eyes widened even more and he turned a shade paler. ‘You’re not from the BAMF?’

BAMF was the Bundesamt für Migration und Flüchtlinge, Germany’s federal office for immigrants and refugees. Now Ben was understanding a little more about why the man had run from him.

Ben shook his head. ‘I don’t work for the government.’

That should have been good news for the Iranian, but it seemed to frighten him ten times more. Sweat was beading on his brow and he began to shake. ‘Then you’re here to k-kill me,’ he stammered. ‘Please! I’m not a threat to you!’

‘What’s he talking about?’ Raul asked, impatient that they were still speaking Farsi and he couldn’t follow a word of the conversation.

Ben explained, ‘He’s an illegal immigrant from Iran, and he thinks we’re here to kill him.’

When the Iranian heard his captors speaking English, it seemed to terrify him still further. ‘I swear to you that I know nothing!’ he blurted out, switching now to English himself. ‘Do not hurt me! I am begging you!’

‘Oh, you’ll beg us,’ Raul snarled at him, making a fist. ‘You’ll beg for a bullet, if you don’t tell us what we want to know.’

Beg for a bullet. Ben looked at Raul and raised a hand. ‘Please,’ he said. ‘I’m handling this, all right?’

Turning back to their prisoner, he softened his tone and asked in English, ‘What’s your name?’

‘I am Kazem Behzadi. I work here. Please do not—’

‘Just answer the questions,’ Ben said.

Raul’s eyes narrowed and he chewed his lip as if remembering something. He nudged Ben’s arm and beckoned him aside to say quietly, ‘She told me about a Kazem.’

Ben turned and walked to the kitchen. He came back holding a large chef’s knife from the block on the worktop. Kazem’s eyes popped at the sight of the blade, and he began to gibber in fear as Ben stepped around behind the chair.

‘Who’s your employer, Kazem?’ Ben asked.

‘Catalina! Catalina Fuentes! Don’t kill me!’

Ben believed him, and holding the guy prisoner made no more sense. Ben quickly slashed the tape holding Kazem’s wrists to the chair, careful not to cut him, then did the same for his ankles. Realising that Ben wasn’t about to saw his head off, Kazem stopped panicking and sat quietly in the chair, rubbing his wrists. His eyes followed the knife as Ben laid it down on a side table with the point turned towards the wall. Now that he understood that these two men were here neither to deport him nor to murder him, he looked bewildered. ‘Catalina Fuentes,’ he repeated softly, and then his eyes clouded. ‘But I do not work for her any more. She is dead.’

‘I’m her brother,’ Raul said. ‘Raul Fuentes.’

Kazem peered at Raul, and through the dissipating fog of his terror a look of recognition dawned as he took in the physical resemblance. ‘Yes, yes, she talk about you all the time.’ Then his face fell again, etched deep with sadness. ‘I am so sorry she is gone.’

Raul looked down and said nothing.

‘How did you come to be here?’ Ben asked.

Stumbling over his English, Kazem explained that while working as a lab technician back home in Tehran, he’d been involved with a group of anti-government campaigners and been drawn into the protests of 2011 and 2012 in which social unrest had sparked off violent rioting in the city. Amid the subsequent brutal clampdown by the Iranian authorities, in which thousands of people had been arrested, beaten and even killed by police, Kazem had fled the country. Like many other political refugees from the east he’d ended up in Germany, where, managing to obtain a temporary visa and residence permit to allow him to work, he’d bummed about from one casual job to another until eventually finding suitable employment as a science lab tech at the University of Munich.

He’d been happy there, until two things had happened to shake his world. First, the expiry of his work visa, which slipped by him and also went unnoticed by the university personnel department. Second, the retirement of his kindly supervisor and his replacement with a by-the-book hardass racist bigot who’d made it his business to harass and persecute Kazem at every turn. When his hated new supervisor had discovered that Kazem had outstayed his work visa, he’d gleefully threatened to denounce him to the immigration authorities.

Terrified that he was about to be deported back to Iran, where many of his friends were still in jail, Kazem had been at a loss until Catalina Fuentes stepped in to rescue him. He explained how he’d often met her at work, and how pleasant and friendly she’d always been to him, helping him with his German and encouraging him to study towards a science degree, unlike many of the other academic staff who treated the techs like non-humans. When his visa crisis had threatened to ruin everything, Catalina had offered him private employment, for better pay, as her personal assistant and live-in caretaker out here at the observatory. He’d been only too happy to move out of his shitty digs in the city and move here, where he had his own mini-apartment in a converted outbuilding, and a peaceful life working for someone he liked.

That had been nearly eleven months ago, during which time they’d become friends. He was learning more about astronomy, maths and physics, studying German, English and even a little Spanish, and impressing her with his appetite for advancement through study. She’d bought him a motorbike to run errands on, as he didn’t drive a car. She had been a wonderful, warm, generous person.

Then it had all come crashing down.

Kazem almost wept when he talked about her suicide. He was broken-hearted over it, as well as worried about his own future. He’d taken a part-time job washing dishes in a hotel nearby, still living here in the knowledge that he couldn’t remain forever, and in fear that the immigration people would come to whisk him away in the night. Sooner or later, he knew, this would all be over.

As he talked, a large black cat appeared through the gap in the entrance door. It hovered there for a second, scrutinising the humans inside with suspicious green eyes, then stalked into the room, the tip of its tail switching to signal its displeasure.

‘That is Herschel,’ Kazem said. ‘He is kind of wild. He turn up here one day, and make this his home. Catalina name him after her favourite astronomer.’

Ignoring the three of them, the cat wandered nonchalantly through into the kitchen, hopped onto the table and started chewing at the remains of the leftover sandwich.

‘Herschel, hör auf damit, du blöde Katze,’ Kazem called after him, then jumped up and went to scoop it up in his arms and march it back to the door. The cat wriggled and twisted as Kazem put it outside and closed the door. ‘He always stealing my food,’ he explained to Ben and Raul. ‘I speak to him in German and he understand, but he never learn.’

Ben looked at Kazem Behzadi and saw a sincere, good-natured and completely guileless young guy in whom Catalina had obviously placed a great deal of trust. He felt bad about having treated him roughly before. But there was still one thing Kazem had said that perplexed him.

‘Why did you think we were here to kill you, Kazem?’ Ben asked him.

Kazem shifted uncomfortably, hesitated a moment and then replied, ‘When you tell me you are not with the BAMF, then I think you have come to steal. Is lot of expensive equipment here. Is much crime in Germany. I am sorry,’ he added. ‘I should not have run.’

Ben reflected for a moment and said, ‘I’m sorry too. We didn’t mean to alarm you. If I damaged your motorcycle, I’ll help you fix it up, okay?’

Raul hadn’t spoken during Kazem’s account. Now he leaned closer to the Iranian and said, ‘Let me tell you why we’re here. I believe that my sister is still alive. I came from Spain to find her. You were her friend. If you know anything, anything at all, that can help me find out what really happened and where she is, I need to know. I don’t have a lot of money but I will pay you, and help you in whatever way I can.’

Kazem stared at Raul for the longest time. Then he shook his head. ‘No, she is dead. She has driven her car into sea. Nobody survive this. She not want to survive. I think she have a sad heart.’ He pressed a hand to his own chest.

‘They never found the body,’ Raul said.

Kazem went on shaking his head and looking deeply uncomfortable. ‘No,’ he repeated. ‘This is not possible she is alive. She is gone and she is not coming back. I am sorry. Like you, I miss her very much. She look after me, help me in so many ways. I think perhaps one day I can study and become something in my life. If this can happen, it will be because of your sister. She was honourable person.’ His eyes had become moist as he talked. He quickly reached up and dabbed at them.

Herschel the cat had stalked around to the window outside and jumped up onto the ledge, where it curled up with its legs tucked underneath its body and green eyes narrowed to slits.

‘Kazem, when was the last time you saw Catalina?’ Ben asked.

Kazem frowned and thought for a moment. ‘It was just some days before she kill herself. She come here to use the Lunt.’

‘The Lunt?’

‘The solar scope,’ Kazem explained, motioning towards the observatory. ‘Lunt is its name. She want to observe a solar filament she very interested in. I help her set it up. Afterwards she cook dinner for us, then she stay the night and drive back to Munich the next morning. That is last time I see her or speak to her.’

Ben didn’t bother asking what a solar filament was. ‘How did she seem to you? Considering what happened a few days later?’

Kazem shrugged. ‘She seem normal to me. I did not think anything is wrong. Her pain, she was hiding it very well.’

Ben glanced at Raul, who was staring down at the floor and chewing his lip. ‘I’d like you to think really carefully, Kazem. Did she say anything to you that made you think she was frightened?’

Kazem frowned, and shook his head slowly. ‘I cannot think. Frightened of what?’

‘We don’t know yet,’ Raul said.

‘Did she need money? Was she in trouble? Was somebody threatening her?’ Ben knew that this line of questioning was going to run out soon, and he couldn’t think of anything more to ask Kazem.

‘I do not understand,’ Kazem said, shaking his head faster. ‘What is this you are talking about?’

It looked to Ben as if they were drawing a blank here. He turned away in frustration and walked to the window. He stood there as if looking out at the view, but his gaze was turned mostly inwards as he thought hard about the situation and what to do next. The window pane had a thin layer of dust on it. The other side of the glass, the black cat was still nestled on the ledge.

Suddenly, the cat went rigid and sprang to its feet. The green eyes flared. A ridge of hair bristled up down its spine and its tail became rigid and spiked.

The cat sensed danger.