Cherif Sidiali, click
here to update your pages on AuthorsDen.
Gendarme 09567000 by Cherif Sidiali
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
Not rated by the Author.
Where there is no law, there is no justice.
On an early morning stroll along the beach, Mus (short for Mustapha) was enjoying the quietness and cool breeze brought to shore by the high waves that looked like walls of water building in the ocean. Something connected him very strongly to the beach where he felt peace. That early morning the sky was clear and the sun started making its way through the clouds announcing a beautiful spring day. Mus walked slowly kicking stones with his foot lying on the sand. The beach was empty with only birds flying and seagulls’ noise filling the air. He walked for a while when he saw at a distance something that looked like a large bag being washed out by the sea. He made his way towards it thinking to remove the debris out the way. A few feet away he saw what appeared like a body on the sand. He rush towards it, inspected it without touching it, called (excuse me, excuse me) a couple of times trying to find out if the person was just drunk and fell asleep on the beach. Maybe he’ll respond. Not a sound. The body lied on the sand fully clothed. Sometimes contra band groups would bring alcohol and drugs and spend the night on the beach where authorities cannot see them. Mus decided to check the body more closely, he turned him on his back at his surprise Mus saw cuts and bruises on the guy’s neck as if he was chained from his neck and beaten on the head. There was an open wound on the left side of his head; probably the water washed all the blood Mus thought. He wondered what could have happened. Many scenarios crossed his mind. Maybe a drug deal went wrong, or maybe a fight after being drunk or maybe this guy saw something he was not supposed to see. The longer Mus stood there, the more questions came coming to him. Mus’s only option was to go to the closest gendarmerie office (special military force that, in addition of other military duties, controls beaches for illegal activities and disturbances) and alert them. He knew that if he was seen with that body he would be arrested and even prosecuted because there were no other witnesses to stand in his favor. He left the body and ran straight to the authorities. The time was 7:45 AM as he walked in.
“Good Morning,” he said
The person behind the thick window looked like he was in no mood to talk to anyone. It was early morning, after being up all night on a night duty shift, he looked up slowly at Mus and said Good morning with an attitude of “what is your problem?”
“Can I help you?” The Gendarme asked.
“Yes, there is body lying on the beach,” Mus replied.
“Did you see it?” The gendarme wanted to make sure that Mus had a damn good reason for disturbing him.
“Yes, I did,” Mus said.
“Did you get close to him and did you smell any alcohol on him?” The gendarme kept asking.
“Yes, I got close to him and no, he did not smell like alcohol. It seemed to me that there was something that happened because he looked bruised,” Mus explained.
“How do you know that?” The gendarme inquired.
He didn’t seem very anxious to get moving, he was inching his way to retirement and knowing about a dead person wasn’t a priority for him. He was happy spending his remaining time playing puzzle games and doing some paper work.
While Mus was getting little agitated by the gendarme attitude, another gendarme walked in, shook hands with his colleague and glanced at Mus.
“How was your night?” The morning shift gendarme asked his office mate.
“The usual, a couple phone calls, fault alerts, nothing major. He replied. Except that this gentleman is saying that he saw a dead body on the beach this morning.” He continued.
The second gendarme smiled and told his friend in a sarcastic way followed by a laugh, “Sure it’s a body. I haven’t seen one of those in months lying on the beach.”
Mus was losing his patience, but couldn’t do anything in front of the green uniforms. “Can you just go take a look? Maybe you can identify this person. He must have a family you can contact.” He spoke in an angry tone and yet calm.
“Well, my shift is over. I am out of here. I can’t work overtime,” the old and fat gendarme said before picking up his lunch bag and heading towards the door.
Mus knew that he going too far with that gendarme. After 30 minutes trying to get the pair to move, he realized now that the half hour was wasted and he needed to talk to a supervisor. He asked the gendarme who came in the morning if he could speak to a supervisor, but was told no one was there yet. It’s still early. Right then, lucky as Mus always been, another person walked in with a sense of urgency. “Someone is dead on the beach!” Mus looked at him and looked at the officer without reacting.
“Calm down,” the gendarme said.
“He is not breathing; he’s dead,” the person kept saying.
Mus came closer to the guy and said, “I have been trying for more than half hour to tell them that.”
The raised voice of the guy was a blessing for Mus because it could be heard in the back where someone came rushing.
“What is all this noise?” The two star officer said walking toward the front office.
The gendarme stood up gave him a salute and proceeded to explain.
“Sir, these gentlemen are saying there is a dead body on the beach.”
“Go check it out.” In four short words the two star officer ordered the gendarme.
“Yes, sir. Follow me,” the gendarme gestured to Mus and the other person.
They hopped in a jeep and headed towards the beach about 5 minutes away. There, they saw a group of people surrounding the body with some of them whispering to each other.
“Who is he?”
“How did he get here?”
One said, “He looks like he was killed.”
Another said, “Maybe he drowned.”
All kind of assumptions were made trying to figure what really happened.
“Make room, move, there is nothing to see here, please move on.” The gendarme was yelling as he was making his way to the body.
He leaned forward closer to the body, examined it for a minute and pulled out his radio. “Officers, Deen Fazil here, badge number: 09567000. An unidentified body is on the beach and I need an ambulance and the medical examiner ASAP.”
Forty-five minutes later the siren of the ambulance could be heard rushing towards the beach. The driver pulled in from of the cold body on the sand, opened the back door and proceeded in pulling out the stretcher.
“Not yet,” the gendarme said. “We’re waiting for the Medical Examiner.”
“Ok,” the ambulance driver said pushing back the stretcher inside.
A few minutes later, an old beat up bug could be seen coming, crawling. It parked far from the beach. A person looking like Frankenstein submerged from it, his hair sticking up in the air, his mustache covering most of his face, and his small uneven round glasses looked like they dated from the Stone Age. He made his way to the body holding an old, black suitcase. He sat it on a dry spot on a plastic mat, unlocked and pulled out his white wrinkled apron that barely fit him. It was probably from his days in medical school. He walked towards the body after all people were sent away removed the clothes and started going from one side to the other shaking his head here and there. He did not say a word the whole time. From time-to-time he would adjust his glasses. It took him almost two hours hovering around the body taking pictures and writing notes on his pocket book. Finally, he gathered his belongings and removed his bloody gloves then shoved them in a plastic bag that he pulled from his suitcase. The ambulance driver was cleared to remove the body. He gestured to his assistant to get to work. The gendarme told Mus and the other guy to go back with him to the office so he could take their depositions. The gendarme loaded them in the jeep and drove away.
The office was now alive with more gendarmes walking around, some of them sitting engaged in conversations, others head down busy with their work while others were joking and laughing. The 3 walked in. The gendarme ordered Mus and the other man to sit down and wait. The waiting time turned out to be hours until Mus couldn’t stand it anymore and decided to ask what was taking so long.
“You were told to wait. Go back to your seat,” an officer aggressively yelled at him.
Only late that evening Mus and other person were put in different rooms and questioned.
“How did you find the body,” Mus was asked.
“I was walking on the beach and saw it.”
“Did you know the guy?” The gendarme was fishing.
“I never saw him before.” Mus replied.
“Are you sure you didn’t know him.” The gendarme insisted.
“Yes, I am sure. I never saw him before,” Mus now doubted the gendarme.
“Your friend says he saw with him.” The gendarme said.
“What friend?” Mus asked.
“The guy who was sitting with you earlier.” The gendarme replied.
“I don’t know that guy. He came in here after I came in this morning to your office to let you know about the dead body.” Mus explained nervously.
“Listen, you better come clean so I can help you. Lying is not going to help you.” The gendarme said intimidating Mus.
“Come clean about what? I haven’t done anything wrong to come clean.” Mus interrupted defending himself.
“Did he owe you money? Did you have a business together?” The gendarme kept pushing.
Mus smiled like telling the gendarme “you must be joking.”
“This is not the time to smile.” The gendarme felt offended. He pushed the chair back with a force that almost broke it and stood in Mus’ face. “You think I am joking?”
The questioning last a good hour or more, it was dark outside. Time didn’t matter to the gendarme. He could have stayed there the whole night, but once he realized that Mus wasn’t about to fall in the trap of giving him the answers he was expecting, the gendarme gave up, telling Mus to go home and that he better stay in town in case they needed him.
Mus left, but the other guy wasn’t so lucky because he treated the office as a liar.
A few days went by when Mus was again accosted by the gendarmerie on his way home.
“Come with us,” one of the men said.
They pushed him in a car and drove away. Mus couldn’t resist the authorities.
Pulling away from his street, he notice the car was heading in a different direction, away from where the gendarmerie office is.
“Where are we going?” He announced. “This is not the direction of your office.”
No response. He asked again.
“Silence,” the driver said. While his companion kept quiet.
They drove 10 miles out of town, pulled into a wooded area, stopped the car and ordered Mus out. They blind folded him and led him to a secret cave covered with piles of tree branches. They pushed him in with his eyes still blind folded. They sat him down on a wooden chair and made him wait. Several minutes later a voice said. “What did the gendarmes asked in the office and what did you tell them?”
“Who are you?” Mus questioned.
“We ask the questions, you answer.” The strange voice said.
“They asked if I knew the body that was on the beach.” Mus replied.
“And do you know him?” The voice continued.
I never saw him before that morning.
“What did you tell the authorities?” The voice insisted.
“That’s all I told them.” Mus said.
“Are you sure you didn’t say anything else?” The gendarme asked.
“I am sure.” Mus replied.
“I am going to tell you this only once, don’t talk to the gendarmes again. If you try to contact them or even think about getting close to their office, you’ll regret it the rest of your life. By the way, your daughter Soraya and your son Kaliph are quite beautiful kids.” The voice threatened.
“Mus, right then knew that this was bigger than just a lonely dead body found on the beach.” He kept listening and wondering if this was real or his mind was playing games on him.
Once again he was forced in the car and driven to his street without yet another warning to keep his mouth shut. At home he called his kids to make sure they were there. His wife, Nasma, could see the worries on his face, but preferred not to ask. He sat at the table tapping his fingers and seemed to be thrown in deep thought. He couldn’t go to the authorities and didn’t know who those guys were who snatched him from the street. For several days, Mus didn’t leave the house. The words of the kidnappers kept rolling around in his mind, forcing him to think hard about what his next step was to be. After two days in that state, he finally convinced himself to talk to someone. Nasma would not be much help because she had no idea what Mus was up against. His long time college friend, Mimo, was a lawyer and well-connected in the city. He represented business people, thugs, and others with shady business dealings. He has done all and that’s how he made his fortune. Ethics to him had no place in business. Mus, called him and asked for a time to meet. Mimo agreed.
They met at “Café Orange” outside town.
“Good to see you,” Mimo greeted Mus shaking hands.
“Mus, it is good to see you too.” Mimo replied, his hand still in Mus’.
A short catching up on the last few months took place when Mus opened up, “I need your help.” He gave the details to Mimo.
Mimo, listening as the lawyer he was, couldn’t wait to take on the government in a lawsuit.
“Give me a couple of days to find some information,” Mimo offered Mus.
“Sure, absolutely, please see what you can find. I going crazy trying to figure out what is happening.” Mus said in a sad voice.
They sat there for a while chatting before they both stood up and said so long.
“I’ll contact you soon,” Mimo said walking away.
“I’ll be waiting for your call,” Mus replied.
A week later Mimo called Mus.
“How is it going?” Mimo started the conversation.
“Good!” Mus said in a tone that said give me the news.
“I have some information for you,” Mimo announced. “We have to meet soon.”
“How about the same place, tomorrow at 10:30 am?” Mus proposed.
“See you there,” Mimo responded before the phone went dead.
Mus was there well in advance of the meeting, anxious to know what Mimo had learned.
Mimo pulled up in his shiny new BMW wearing an expensive suit and tie.
He shook hands with Mus and proceeded immediately to share the information with Mus.
“I did some digging around and this is big. You are about to get framed. The gendarmes have no intention to search further in the case. As far as they are concerned the case stops with you.”
Mimo never told Mus where he got his information.
“Are you serious?” Mus asked, surprised by the news.
“They know the kid who was dead on the beach, but trying to mess with the investigation, questioning, to them is a waste of time. You happen to be at the wrong time at the wrong place and that was it for them to build their case.” The lawyer explained.
Mus, shook his head in dismay. “Why would they frame me, I just wanted to help.” He questioned.
Mimo looked at Mus and said, “Sometimes it’s better not to help.”
“I guess you’re right,” Mus replied.
Finally, Mus broke down and asked Mimo. “How do you know all this?”
Mimo laughed, “Sorry, these are secrets of the job, can’t tell you.”
Mus, understood that and didn’t insist.
“What will happen next?” Mus asked with a worry look on his face.
“I don’t know,” Mimo said. “They might call you for more questioning or if you’re lucky something new in your favor surfaces.”
The discussion ended there with Mimo making sure that Mus calls him if the authorities contact him.
While back at home Mus was contemplating his next step is dealing with the gendarmes.
That same evening on the local TV station the photo of the dead guy on the beach was all over the news. His full name was Ben (short for Benali) and last name Bounar. He was once arrested for extortion and theft for which he served little time in jail thanks to two dirty officers who falsified the police report stating that his mistakenly identified. He was jailed on only the extortion count. Mimo also played his role in that case by helping the dirty officials rewrite the false report adding all kinds of lies and for which he got paid a hefty sum of money by the dead guy and his gang. Mimo knew that about the dead guy when he met with Mus, but never brought it up.
Mus starred at the TV screen listening. Not much was revealed except the name and where the body was found. In the morning the gendarmerie was at Mus’s door step, again taking him back to the station. This time the gendarmes were little friendlier than before, they politely requested that he follow them. Mus did just that. On the way, the two young guys asked Mus how he got himself into all this. He seemed like a nice guy one of them told Mus. Mus explained to them what he saw and they seemed to believe him. During the conversation Mus mentioned that he felt like a criminal when the gendarmes kidnapped him from his street and drove to a place where they blind folded him.
One of the gendarmes interrupted him. “We never do that. Are you positive it was he gendarmes?” He asked surprised.
“They were in green uniforms and they presented themselves as gendarmes.” Mus said.
“It’s impossible. Something is not right,” the other commented.
“Did they ask you anything?” One of the two asked.
“They asked if I told the gendarmes anything about the dead body and told me that I better not talk to them again.” Mus said.
At the station the gendarmes rushed to their supervisor with the story.
The supervisor knew right away the kidnappers were not real gendarmes because on his desk he had a report from the secret service that three gendarmes were assassinated in a fake road block and their uniforms were stolen. All he said was, “those people were not ours.”
While Mus was going through a nightmare between the real authorities and whoever kidnapped him, Mimo was hard at work building his case again the government. This was too important of a case for him to let go. He was all about fame and money and nothing was going to stop him from reaching that goal. He spent days looking for information about the dead body on the beach. Who was the person? How did he get there? Why are the authorities trying to frame his friend? So many questions he was trying to answer. The more he asked a question, the further he found himself involved with a new name or face. A couple of weeks into all this, Mimo met with a guy who he bribed with some money and blackmailed him to report him to the authorities if he didn’t cooperate with him. Mimo dug some dirt on the guy and found out that he was running a drug operation in town. The guy apparently knew who the dead person on the beach was. They met in an alley late in the evening to erase any suspicions. The stranger gave full details to Mimo about the dead person on the beach. His name was Kader (nicknamed the “El-Duro”) because of his toughness, but was never a murderer. He dropped out of school at an early age and joined a gang; his family was not very involved in his life. He lived as he pleased until one day he got pulled in to a group of people with extreme religious thoughts. He witnessed many people being tortured and beaten, but never took part in any of their monstrous acts. They killed him because he saw them killing two people for no reason. When he argued with them for what they did and threatened to leave, they beat him, plotted his murder and threw him in the ocean to make it look like a suicide. Mimo listened attentively to each detail, but his mind was somewhere else. He had no interest in these groups; his main goal was going after the government for trying to frame his old friend. The government is a bigger payoff. What Mimo didn’t know was that the stranger was also a government informant. The authorities knew about his illegal drug deals, but wouldn’t go after him because he was protected by dirty officials. A few days after the meeting in the alley, Mimo was accosted on a late evening and rough up really good spending couple of days in a local hospital for bruises and cuts. He didn’t see who attacked him. They were covered from head to toe and all he remembered hearing was you want to “mess with the bigger guys” while he was being tossed from one side to the other. During this ordeal for Mimo, Mus was still expecting to be hauled away by the authorities at any time. He called his friend a couple of times to find out if anything new had come up, but no answer. Mimo saw Mus calling but didn’t want to answer. He was now trying to figure out a solution to his own problems. His problems didn’t stop with the beating and the hospital, a few weeks later he was ordered to appear in front of a judge to answer questions about his involvement with some illegal people. He was at risk of losing his law practicing license. The judge did not revoke his license, but warned him that he being monitored. He tried to explain the situation, but the judge didn’t want to hear anything. At one point he yelled at him.
“You are a disgrace to this noble profession and I would not hesitate for a second to throw you in jail, so you better shut up. Get out of my court and I better not see your name come up again.” The judge said as he pointed to the door.
Mimo pick up his papers and left. He was sure the government was behind all that was happening to him. Driving away from the court, he called his friend Mus and asked him to meet at the usual place.
They met and Mus could see the anger on his friend’s face. “What’s going on?”
“Sorry, pal, I cannot help you with this case anymore.” Mimo said.
“What do you mean you can’t help me?” Mus asked.
“I just need to take some time to think things through.” Mimo replied.
“What’s going on?” Mus asked again.
“I am dealing with some personal issues and I have to get them resolved.” Mimo said.
“What kind of issues?” Mus curiously asked.
“I just spent couple of days at the hospital.” Mimo started opening up.
“For what? Is everything ok?” Mus asked.
“Yeh, everything is fine. I got mugged a couple of weeks ago and today the judge almost threw me in jail and revoked my license.” He explained.
“Why?” Mus said.
“I am sure it’s about your case. There are people who don’t want me to find out the truth. They even bought the judge.” He said.
Mus didn’t answer. He just listened.
“I need to figure a way out of this. Whoever is behind this case is above the law.” Mimo said. “I think you need to take your family and leave.” He suggested. “They won’t leave you alone. The system is too screwed up to be fair.” He continued.
“Go where?” Mus said with saddened look on his face.
“I don’t know, I just think you should disappear until something happens or they decide to drop the case.” Mimo said. “I am sorry I can’t help you. This is serious and I don’t want to end up in jail for the rest of my life or even found dead in a garbage bin one morning. I hope you understand.” Mimo said.
“Yes, I do.” Mus replied shaking his head.
They shook hands and split.
“Again, sorry,” he pronounced.
Mus was on his own now. Mimo’s flamboyant lifestyle was too important for him to sacrifice for unsure results. Mus waited for days to hear from the authorities, but nothing. He thought maybe they found their suspect and he was off the hook. Although he constantly lived in worry, he didn’t want to find out why nobody called him. He waited until one morning the authorities showed up at his door to escort him to their station. He walked in and was asked to wait. He felt that this that was it. He was in for a very long time. After a few minutes of waiting, an officer came to him.
“Follow me” he said.
Mus stood up and start walking behind the officer. They both made their way to an office and the officer knocked on the door.
“Come in,” the supervisor announced.
The officer opened the door, saluted the supervisor and pointed to Mus to enter. He then closed the door and left.
“Good morning,” Mus said.
“Good morning,” the supervisor replied.
“Have a seat,” he continued.
Mus sat down almost trembling. “Thank you,” he said.
“You must be a very lucky man,” the supervisor said smiling.
“Why?” Mus asked.
“We have some new leads that two other people were seen at the beach that same morning and around the same time as you. We are looking into that.” The supervisor commented.
Mus’ sigh of relief could be read all over his face.
“Excuse me sir, you mean to say that I am free of this.” Mus asked.
“No, I didn’t say that. I said for the time being we are not going to arrest you. We’re looking into the two individuals and we’ll have our answers soon.” He explained. “You’re free to go.” The supervisor offered.
Mus was so excited about his freedom that he forgot to thank the supervisor and left as quickly as he could. He made it home and very shortly after he phoned Mimo, waking him from sleep after all night partying in local night club. Mimo never paid for anything, all his expenses were paid by his illegal clients.
“Good morning, this is Mus.”
“Good morning Mus. What’s up?” Mimo responded in a sleepy voice.
“I am free; they took me in and told me that new leads looking into two other people came up.” Mus said.
Mimo said, “I know. I learned that yesterday but didn’t have a chance to call you.”
“How did you know?” Mus asked.
“Somebody told me.” Mimo replied.
“I need to get moving. I have court in an hour. We’ll talk.” Mimo said.
“By the way, the two individuals are those disguised guys who kidnapped you and told you not to talk to the authorities. They have strong evidence against them. The authorities just didn’t tell you that. More details later. I need to run.” Mimo continued.
They both hang up the phone. Mus didn’t care at all who the two other suspects were. All he cared about was his own freedom.
Mus never heard from the authorities again. He resumed his normal life and did his best to forget what happened to him.
Mimo, on the other hand was not so lucky, his corrupt lifestyle got him in big trouble. He first lost his license to practice after two undercover agents played themselves as drug dealers trying to get off a drug and extortion case. Mimo agreed to use the law in their favor for $2 million dollars, a third of which must be paid first, up front. A third was to be paid when they got their probation and the final amount when the case was closed. The two agents, after getting a go from their manager, agreed. Mimo was arrested a few days later and taken to jail. He hired Jilo Aflou, a well-known and very expensive lawyer. Mimo could afford it. Although the charges against Mimo were obvious, the high powered lawyer was able to get him out on bail awaiting his trial. Jilo knew that Mimo could spend the rest of his life in jail and even told Mimo that. The judge granted the bail because he trusted Jilo. They knew each other really well. Jilo was a retired Judge himself who decided to open his own law office. Mimo went home knowing that his happy days of flying high were over. He license was revoked, the illegal money he made was going to Jilo and the gangs he worked with were after him for not delivering on his promises. He was done. In the evening he got in his car and drove to a night club where he drank all night trying to drown his problems in alcohol. At around 4am, he stood up from the table barely holding his feet together got in his BMW and drove away. Suddenly he turned his car in the opposite direction and drove it straight over a cliff to his death.
Love, romance, innocence, intrigue, danger, and lust. Life is complicated, and love even more so. Life, and love, can be hazardous to a lady's health. Especially if she's fallen in love with a married pop star.
On an early morning stroll along the beach, Mus (short for Mustapha) was enjoying the quietness and cool breeze brought to shore by the high waves that looked like walls of water building in the ocean. Something connected him very strongly to the beach where he felt peace. That early morning the sky was clear and the sun started making its way through the clouds announcing a beautiful spring day. Mus walked slowly kicking stones with his foot lying on the sand. The beach was empty with only birds flying and seagulls’ noise filling the air. He walked for a while when he saw at a distance something that looked like a large bag being washed out by the sea. He made his way towards it thinking to remove the debris out the way. A few feet away he saw what appeared like a body on the sand. He rush towards it, inspected it without touching it, called (excuse me, excuse me) a couple of times trying to find out if the person was just drunk and fell asleep on the beach. Maybe he’ll respond. Not a sound. The body lied on the sand fully clothed. Sometimes contra band groups would bring alcohol and drugs and spend the night on the beach where authorities cannot see them. Mus decided to check the body more closely, he turned him on his back at his surprise Mus saw cuts and bruises on the guy’s neck as if he was chained from his neck and beaten on the head. There was an open wound on the left side of his head; probably the water washed all the blood Mus thought. He wondered what could have happened. Many scenarios crossed his mind. Maybe a drug deal went wrong, or maybe a fight after being drunk or maybe this guy saw something he was not supposed to see. The longer Mus stood there, the more questions came coming to him. Mus’s only option was to go to the closest gendarmerie office (special military force that, in addition of other military duties, controls beaches for illegal activities and disturbances) and alert them. He knew that if he was seen with that body he would be arrested and even prosecuted because there were no other witnesses to stand in his favor. He left the body and ran straight to the authorities. The time was 7:45 AM as he walked in.
