The Demon of Dakar aka The Demon from Dakar

Sixty

Oskar Hammer from Alhambra, Donald from Dakar, and Svante Winbladh from Ehrlings accounting firm concluded their hastily arranged meeting with the decision to keep the restaurants going-starting up again the day after tomorrow-even though their owner was being held in custody.

The news that cocaine was involved had dropped like a bomb. None of the three would have guessed that their boss and taskmaster had devoted himself to the smuggling and selling of narcotics. Svante Winbladh was the one who was the most distraught.

“It is completely inexcusable that we should have to be pulled into something like this,” he exclaimed. “It is bad for our reputation as serious-”

“Calm down,” Oskar Hammer interrupted. “You’re clean, aren’t you?”

The accountant gave him an antagonistic look.

“I don’t think you fully understand the impact,” he said and got to his feet.

“Yes, I do,” Oskar Hammer said. “This is about our jobs. Donald, can you call around to all the Dakar staff?”

Donald nodded. He had not said much during the meeting, had only aired his exasperation with the fact that there would probably be new rounds of questioning with all the employees.

His immediate thought had been to quit, but he had decided to stay and see how the whole thing played out. He knew that Hammer was planning to take over Alhambra, and he himself had toyed with the idea of buying out Dakar and running the restaurant on his own.

Hammer and Donald left the accounting firm and returned to their respective restaurants. They had been promised the reservation books so that they could call the customers who had booked tables for that evening.

The forensic investigation continued at Dakar. Donald exchanged a few words with a criminal investigator he knew from before and found out that the cocaine that had been seized at Alhambra had been worth around three million kronor on the street.

“But what do you hope to find here?”

“Something,” the officer said. “We don’t know what.”

“But no drugs here, or what?”

Donald would have taken it as a personal insult if they had found cocaine on “his” premises.

“I can’t comment on that.”

Donald left the restaurant and walked the short way home in order to start his calls. This was a job he most of all wanted to avoid.

He started with Feo, who in turn promised to call Eva. Thereafter he dialed Johnny’s number.

Eva Willman’s first emotion was anger, followed by shame. She was working for a man who sold drugs. Incredible. How would she be able to tell Helen? Her friend was spending a great deal of her spare time right now trying to convince the neighbors to attend the meeting about drugs in the area. Eva would not be able to go. It would be too shameful.

Her joy at having a job was blown away. Feo had said that everything would continue as before, but Eva had her doubts. How would the customers react? Who would want to eat at the trafficking center for a cocaine ring?

And what would Patrik and Hugo say?

She sat anesthetized at the kitchen table and recalled the joy she had felt earlier; the bike ride to the city and back, how she already felt more fit, the feeling of putting on the black skirt and the neat blouse, her new appearance that the hairstyle and her more conscious application of makeup gave her, the appreciation of the diners, that she had been given one hundred kronor by the young lovers, the talk with her coworkers, the incipient friendship with Tessie. Yes, everything that had happened at Dakar since the first nervous beginning had promised a different and better life.

And then Manuel. Why had she been so excited about him? Was it because he looked at her with both appreciation and a kind of respect behind the controlled desire? For surely his gazes and gestures indicated lust. When they had been talking and laughing in the dishwashing area she had surprised herself in thinking: touch me! And it was as if her thoughts had unconsciously influenced Manuel. He became both shy and eager at the same time. The heat of the dishwasher made his dark skin bloom and the sweat that gleamed at his hairline made her want to brush his wild bangs aside and cool his brow with her hand.

Shame on me, she thought. I wanted him. Not enough that I worked for a drug lord, I desired a drug pusher who may have been involved in smuggling and who has a felon for a brother.

A brother who had been featured in the headlines of every newspaper. Eva was surprised that no one else at Dakar had reacted to the pictures of Manuel’s brother. Maybe they had been too upset about Slobodan’s arrest to reflect on the obvious resemblance between the Alavez brothers.

Eva stood up and walked to the bedroom to make her bed but ended up standing with the bedspread in her hand. Now she was back to her earlier life, with passivity and anxiety for the future. Feo’s words that she could always find other waitressing gigs, if Dakar did end up closing, did not comfort her. That brief period of time at Dakar that was all she had to show for herself, how impressive was that?

A butterfly fluttered outside the window but disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Eva dropped the bedspread and sank down on the bed.

The dream was over so fast, she thought.