Face/Mask (42 page)

“I trusted you,” his words came out in a harsh whisper.

“You had little choice, as I remember. Anyway, you did not come to me for my loyalty, you came for my money. Which I did give you, as I remember.”

“I thought you cared about Sahar. Now this…”

“Do not confuse who I care for with what I will or will not do. You have not lived in this, how do you say, shit-hole, of an internment camp for the past fifteen years. You do not have to sit for hours at check-points each time you want to cross the street, or have your cit-card confiscated each time the bribery rate goes up and nobody bothered to tell you.”

“Don’t try that on me, Walid. You’re not like the others here.”

“True. I do get to spend some of my time in your wonderful world now. And that’s a world where respectable men like you have their uncles arrested.”

Janus was stunned that Walid knew of this betrayal. That meant that the man knew how big a hypocrite Janus was to blame him for behaving the same way. The expression of shame on his face must have been easy to read.

“Oh, dear,” Walid said in mock disappointment, “have we forgotten how all this drama began? Have we left out the part where the self-righteous Allen Janus has a man sent to jail for reasons that are obvious only to himself, and then has to come to the treacherous Arab for help?”

“Shut up,” was all Janus could say.

“I will not shut up,
Monsieur Janus
,” Walid’s voice got louder, as he leaned across the table and stabbed an accusing finger in Janus’s direction. “You have come to my place of business in order to spit on me, and I am not to mention that you stabbed your own uncle in the back?”

“He’s my wife’s uncle,” Janus said, knowing it was a feeble response.

“Yes, your wife’s uncle. Your loving wife, whom you betray each week with your dirty little whore, whom you are so worried about now. And you betrayed her uncle, and like a little child you changed your mind when it was too late. So you come to me for money to pay bribes to policeman and prosecutors, so that they may betray their sworn duties. Everybody is lying and cheating and breaking laws and solemn vows, yet you are shocked that I did what I told you I did from the very beginning. I told you I am an RCMP informer, or did you conveniently forget that too?”

“You told me you never informed on your friends.”

Walid sat slowly back, and the expression of sadness on his face was real.

“Sometimes,” he said, turning his eyes away, “friendships end.”

That was it. Walid’s betrayal of Sahar had driven Janus to confront him, and the man had nothing more to say in his defence than “friendships end.” Janus had talked enough and if he didn’t act now he’d always blame himself. He stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over behind him.

“Careful,
monsieur
,” a hoarse voice said from behind him, as two strong hands grabbed his arms. Janus turned his head and saw Robert Sévigny, standing behind him and breathing heavily as if he’d been running. Two officers were on each side of him, gripping his arms so that he couldn’t move.

“The way you jumped up,” Sévigny said, “would lead one to believe you intended violence toward
Monsieur
Kadri here. Maybe you should step outside for a while and cool off.”     

Janus couldn’t believe his eyes. What was Sévigny doing here? Was he there to save Kadri from Janus the way he’d gotten him away from the RCMP interrogators?

The two officers pulled Janus away from the table and turned him toward the exit before letting go of his arms. He took a few steps and then glared back at Sévigny. He knew he wasn’t going to do anything. Not against three policemen.

He’d blown his chance to kill Walid. The man would probably have police protection everywhere he went from now on. The two of them were going to have a good laugh at Janus’s expense, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He walked out of the
Café Liban
for the last time.

Once Janus was gone, Sévigny took a deep breath and turned his attention to Walid. The restaurant-owner looked none-too-pleased about all this police presence.

“What brings you here, Sévigny? Please don’t tell me you were afraid that Janus would do me harm.”

Sévigny picked up the chair that Janus had knocked over and sat down heavily on it. He would have loved to be lying in his bed right then, but he couldn’t let Kadri see any weakness. He would get some rest later. There was one final matter he had to deal with.

Kadri wasn’t happy to have three RCMP officers walk into the
Café Liban
in the middle of the supper-hour rush. But the days that Sévigny worried about keeping him happy were long gone. He didn’t doubt that there would be many angry questions from the cafe’s customers later, except that Kadri wouldn’t be around to answer them.

Kadri stood there, fidgeting, without sitting down. Sévigny paid little attention to his discomfort. He decided to keep Kadri waiting as he’d been kept waiting many times. He looked around for a waiter, feeling a strong need for a stiff drink. Kadri must have realized there was little for him to do but see to it that the policeman was served, if only to get him out of there faster. He waved to a waiter who shuffled over slowly, in no hurry to serve Sévigny.

“Take his order, would you,” Kadri said.

“
Arak
,” Sévigny ordered without looking up at the waiter, who stood there, looking confused.

“We don’t serve alcohol,” Kadri told him. “It’s against our religion.”

“You’re not
supposed
to serve alcohol,” Sévigny answered. “That’s not quite the same thing, is it? If he won’t get me the
Arak
, Walid, then get it yourself.”

Kadri took a deep breath but kept his eyes fixed on Sévigny, who could feel the other diners looking their way. Finally Kadri turned to the waiter and snapped an order.

“Vas-y. Cherches-le.”

The waiter, his expression showing that he was glad to get away from the policemen, turned and hurried to the kitchen. Kadri pulled a chair away from the table and threw himself into it.

“I thought you were never to come here,” he whispered harshly over the recorded music coming from the speakers on the restaurant’s walls.

“And I thought there’s supposed to be a show,” Sévigny said. “Where’s the musician?”

“He’s sick. It happens. But your being here does not happen. What are you doing here?”

“Tsk,” Sévigny shook his head in mock sadness. “That’s a shame. I was really looking forward to hearing him play.”

“Oh, the hell with this,” Kadri said harshly, standing up brusquely as if to leave. “First that other idiot, and now you.”

“Sit down,” Sévigny said, speaking so low that Kadri almost missed it. There was no way, however, to mistake the expression on the officer’s face, and Kadri sat slowly back down. The waiter returned just then and placed a glass full of the milky white liquid on the table. Sévigny picked up the glass and took a small sip, making a face at the strong, liquorice taste. Then he downed half the glass in one gulp, hoping that the alcohol might kill some of the bacteria burning his throat.

“I made the trip especially to speak to you,” Sévigny said, regaining some energy. “You’re not being very welcoming.”

“I’m not? Maybe your presence here is an unwelcome surprise. Your entrance wasn’t very subtle, was it?”

“I would have expected a little gratitude for saving you from Janus.”

“Believe me; I could have handled him.”

“Then why the long face? Are you worried about being seen talking to me?”

“What do you think? You’ve just ruined any possibility for me to ever get information for you again. Nobody will trust me now.”

Sévigny smiled at the last phrase, but his smile was cold and he could see Kadri shiver involuntarily in response.

“Trust you, Kadri? Should anyone trust you? Should I?”

“After all these years I’m surprised that you’d ask me that. And since when do
you
speak in such a vague, cryptic manner?”

“True, usually you’re the specialist in vague and cryptic, aren’t you? So let me be very clear and direct with you.” Sévigny leaned forward and gripped Kadri’s arm tightly, causing a ripple of consternation among the clientele at the nearest tables. The two uniformed officers stepped closer to Sévigny’s table and placed their hands on their holsters, sending out a clear warning to everyone in the restaurant that no interference would be tolerated.

“So, speak to me then,” Kadri said, barely managing to get the words out. “Or did you just come here to flex your muscles?”

“I came here to arrest you,” Sévigny said, forcing his voice louder so that the other customers could hear, “I just wanted everyone to know that your days as a police informant are over.”

He paused to let his comments sink in around them, and to catch his breath. Even in the dim light he could tell that the blood had left Kadri’s face. He noticed that the recorded music had been turned off, making his words that much easier to understand at the other tables.

“You’ve been playing both sides for too long. And being paid handsomely for it, too. But that time is over.”

“What? I don’t understand.” He leaned closer to Sévigny and whispered. “We had a deal.”

“Oh, yes Walid, you do understand. You just can’t believe that your duplicitous game has finally come to an end. Your deal was based on lies, and I’m cancelling it. You’ve been feeding me minnows all these years, when you were the biggest shark in the ocean.”

Sévigny had no proof of any of the things he was alleging, but both he and Kadri knew that this didn’t really matter. The important thing was for Kadri to understand the finality of his situation, and for Kadri’s community to learn how disloyal he’d been.

“Your involvement in anti-administration disturbances has become clear,” Sévigny continued. “We expected you to lead us to the leader of these underground groups, and you finally have. He just happens to be you.”

“This is impossible, Sévigny. What’s gotten into you?”

“We have witnesses, Kadri, that have named you as the head of an anti-administration movement working out of Laval.”

“That’s not true. I’m not the leader of any kind of organization. There can’t be any witnesses to such a ridiculous story.”

“Oh, we have witnesses,” Sévigny said, before lowering his voice so that only Kadri could hear. “You know very well, that we always have witnesses.”

A few minutes later, Sévigny and the two officers walked out of the
Café Liban
, with Kadri handcuffed between them. The police van they’d come in was double-parked directly in front of the club. As they approached the vehicle Sévigny saw a man standing in the building’s shadows, his right hand in his coat pocket. The uniformed officers reacted immediately, drawing their guns from their holsters and pointing them at the stranger.

“Hold it,” ordered Sévigny. Even in the dim light and with the air-mask on he recognized the figure of Allen Janus. After all these months of surveillance he didn’t have to see his face to know it was him.

“
Monsieur Janus
,” he said as he walked toward him, “why are you still here?”

Janus didn’t respond. Through the glass of his air-mask Sévigny could see fear in his eyes, and something else. It was desperation. Janus looked toward Kadri who was being bundled into the back of the police van. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, as if he had somewhere to go and was impatient about getting there. At that point Sévigny realized that Janus had come there to exact revenge on Kadri.

“
Mon Dieu
,” Sévigny said, “are you really here to do that?”

“I…I…just wanted to speak to him.”

Sévigny couldn’t help but grin: Janus was so pathetic he was entertaining. He reached out and patted him on the right shoulder, pushing it down so that Janus couldn’t pull his hand out of his pocket. Sévigny had a good idea what he was holding in there, but preferred that he didn’t show it.

“Forgive me for saying this,
Monsieur
Janus, but you’re not really a man of action, are you? And just as well for all concerned. As you can see, I’ve arrested Walid Kadri. It may be small comfort to you but, like your own Muslim friend, it’s unlikely that he will ever see the light of day again. Have the good sense to go home now. Whatever it is you hoped to accomplish here, clearly this is not where your talents lie.”

He turned his back on Allen Janus and began laughing out loud, and he continued laughing as he got into the van and it pulled away, leaving a forlorn figure on the sidewalk.

December 19, 2039

It was less than a week until Christmas, and Janus wondered how there could be such an air of normalcy to his life. Each morning he got up and had his breakfast with Terry and the boys. Terry made breakfast about as often as Richard did now, and they almost always took their meals together, everyone sitting at the table.

Walid Kadri was arrested and gone for good. Janus had quickly gotten over the humiliation he’d felt when Sévigny had laughed at him on the street. He wasn’t the kind of man that people were afraid to mock, so he’d put the gun away along with his fantasy of avenging his lost lover.