by Carl Hancock
‘These people were interested in Naivasha?’
‘Sure, very interested, and they wanted to help in some way. Money began to come in. The accounts department in my dad’s firm has opened a bank account, “The Rebecca Kamau Hospital Fund”. It’s a backup. I hope you’re not offended. I didn’t want to …’
‘Why offended, Debbie? Come to the hospital that we have today and ask the new mothers if they are offended. Only one person can stop us now.’
There was no need for an explanation. They had walked some way from Londiani, across the plain to a ridge above the lake. There was a sturdy wooden bench facing inland. They sat down and, for a time, no words were spoken. Each of them took in the hundreds of aspects of the broad landscape, stretching for many miles from the heights of Eburu to north-west, across the shadowy mass of the Aberdares to Longonot, Rebecca’s old friend to the south-east.
The beauty of the view and the sweetness of the cool air filled Debbie with an unlooked for pride in the homeland she had hardly visited. Sonya leaned against the bench, closed her eyes and, lifting her face to catch the gentle breeze, asked her Simon to stay close and touch her with his wisdom. Rebecca silently blessed her companions and fixed her eyes on the clear outline of Long House, her new home. Recent memories, none of them pleasant, returned to her, Tom lying in his hospital bed, bruised and wounded after the ordeal of the kidnapping that almost took his life, her own father rescued from death by the mysterious gifts of Maria, the body of Sonya’s Simon being prepared by Maria for his final passing in the sanctuary room of the Daniels’ family. The memories were not pleasant, but she was not troubled by them.
‘Another good omen, Maura!’ Sonya laughed at herself. ‘Where did that come from?’
‘And what does it mean?’
‘Oh, it’s become a kind of family saying that sprang out of a dark moment, Debbie. We must seem to be a gloomy lot to be living in such a lovely place.’
‘That’s a joke, Rebecca. You are the toughest, most lovable group of people I’ve ever even heard of. This Rubai character, he’s scared stiff of you.’
Rebecca and Sonya leaned forward to look at each other wide-eyed with arched brows. Debbie watched them with mild amusement.
‘Have I said something outrageous?’
‘Sitting here in the sunshine, at home, with friends and family close by, perhaps, for half a second, Mister Big is cut down to size. Scared stiff of us? How does Tom put it? “In your dreams”.’
‘Yes, Rebecca, but “in your nightmares” would be nearer the truth. He’s a murderer, Debbie. Just talk to father and Paul for five minutes. He specialises in planting daggers in innocent peoples’ souls. I know it’s a sin, but, last week David and I were talking about things for the thousandth time, since … well. David went to a drawer and took out the gun a Scottish friend gave him years ago. “Sonya, we use knives to help preserve life, but this little fellow …”’
‘“David, let me hold it for a moment.” It was heavier than I had expected and … beautiful. I pressed it to my cheek and it felt cool. “David, those knives, we use them to cut away diseased parts of flesh. Would it be so wrong to use this different piece of metal …?”’
‘Yes, wrong, but I would be willing to do it.’
‘God forbid …’
‘That’s it. God does forbid. Remember what Mam called guns? One of the devil’s playthings.’
‘David, promise me …’
‘I can’t, love.’
‘I’m so sorry. My big mouth! There I go blathering on about the plans and I’m so excited.’
‘Debbie, sweetheart, you must keep “blathering on”. Please! We’re excited, too! Sonya, I’ve just got married and I feel defenceless. We’re in the risk business and I have never felt so high in my life.’
‘Rebecca, if your father-in-law saw us now, he’d be offering us whisky to calm us down!’
‘And I might just take him up on the offer!’
Chapter Twenty-nine
nce they were completely clear of Nakuru, Sonya began to show signs of agitation. She fiddled with the sheaf of notes she had brought so that she would not forget the uncomfortable questions she must ask once they reached their destination. She talked much more than usual and regularly shifted around in her seat in the front seat of the Pajero.
She could not have had two better companions for the journey and for the ordeal that lay ahead. Bertie had volunteered to drive and had left a happy Ewan to spend the day at Londiani where Jim Sawyer and his men were in the last stages of rebuilding Big House. She and Simon had been good friends with Jim long before the day when Anna was taken away from him minutes after she had her first and last sight of her miracle baby. He would make sure that Ewan and her three would enjoy their day among the big men. Maria had lived in Kericho for years and knew exactly where to find the two men they were going to meet later that morning.
Sonya’s nervous state had not improved by the time Bertie pulled up close to the house of Charlie and Sue Mossly. Charlie was the owner and manager of a medium sized tea plantation in the heart of the rich, green hillsides and he and Sue had loved their lives in the ‘wild north’ as their Nairobi friends had described Kericho when they sold up successful businesses on the huge estate off Mombasa Road south of the capital.
‘We thought we’d have early elevenses out in the garden. Don’t worry, plenty of shade if you want it.’
‘Best time of day to sit idling out here. Try having a cup of afternoon tea on this very spot and likely you’d be soaked to the skin.’
Sonya recalled Alex’s words to her before they had set out earlier that morning.
‘You’ll love them. They really do have hearts of gold. But chalk and cheese. Just being with them will make you feel better.’
Sonya could not fail to see the truth of what Alex had said about the contrast between husband and wife. He was tall and powerfully built. It was no surprise to learn that he had played rugby for the army for several years. In his time in the service he had learned to be a first-class mechanic. But in his wanderings around the world, his voice had lost nothing of its Yorkshire accent.
Susan Mossly (nee Marlowe) was the film director’s cliche of the typical English lady, in looks, at least. Slim, blonde and vivacious, she too had travelled extensively and everywhere she went, she always attracted attention with her unaffectedly posh voice - minus the plum in the mouth, not a surprise in the former head girl of a leading English boarding school.
They had met by chance at a polo match in the small up-country town of Gilgil. He had flown a friend up from Nairobi to play in a tournament and stayed on for the beer. She had wandered across from the Coulson house where she was spending a leisurely last weekend before returning home to London. She had stayed on. Within a month they were married and, two years later, had quit the city for a life in the hills.
They were into their second cup of tea when Sue decided that it was time to get down to business.
‘Adam and Andrew Karume, you want to see them, Sonya. I think it’s a wonderful idea and so does Charlie.’
‘I must say that it was a bit unexpected. You’ll be their first visitors.’
‘Don’t they have family or friends close by? I thought they were Kericho men.’
‘Certainly, but everyone around here thinks that they are both dead. They almost were an’ all. The police gave them such leatherin’.’
‘Not a good way to persuade men to tell the truth. I can’t agree with Charlie about everyone thinking they’re dead. Impossible to keep something like this a complete secret. At the moment, they’re living in an old tea store.’
‘Sue’s put in new beds and a few home comforts. You’d think they were our boys!’
Sonya was puzzled. ‘I understood they were a couple of local criminals.’
‘That’s the story. Maria, you must remember them. Paul tells us that they are going to be important witnesses later this year.’
‘I do remember them. Sue,
I take it that they know Sonya’s coming.’
‘I told them this morning. Come on. Let’s go and see them.’
‘Just before we go. Maria and Bertie know that I’ve agonised over whether to come or not. In the end I decided that I want to find out even a tiny bit more about how it all happened.’
‘Sonya, all I know is that I don’t think it’s in me to do something like this. Not the right moment for saying this, I know. I hope … There are no words.’
But there were tears. Sonya and Sue, strangers an hour before, embraced with the warmth of sisters.
* * *
The double doors of the tea store were wide open and two young men stood on the threshold waiting. Both were smartly dressed in T-shirt and jeans. The meeting did not begin well. As Sonya, Maria and Bertie got close to the shed, one of the men became agitated. He pointed his arm towards Bertie, letting out a stream of words so quickly that they were almost incomprehensible. One word was clear and repeated several times: the name, ‘Rubai’.
‘My name is Andrew. I come from the New Testament. My brother is Adam, from the Old. I will explain.’
Andrew put his arm around his brother’s shoulder and, with a few words in a local dialect, calmed him and then led Sonya and Maria into the stone-built store. He smiled at Bertie.
‘Bwana, forgive my brother. Patrick warned us that if we did not obey him, this Rubai person would find us and hurt us badly. He thinks you are this man.’
A relieved Bertie understood and turned to go. ‘Andrew, I’m with your brother on this. Tell him that I am sorry that I frighten him. I’m no friend of Rubai. I’m glad I’ve met you. Kwaheri, ladies. I’ll withdraw to the garden.’
Inside the store, the furniture was basic but adequate. Though there were wooden chairs, Andrew invited Sonya and Maria to sit on one of the widely spaced twin beds.
‘You are on my bed. Adam loves his bed so much. He spends most of his time here.’
Sonya asked tentatively, ‘You know why we have come?’
‘Yes. And I know you. You are Doctor Simon’s lady. You came to our church on Easter Day two years ago. And you are Maria Kabari. Your husband is the kind policeman. We have no mother. She died when we were born. Our father, Joseph, went away to Kisumu. We think he is dead now. Anna looked after us. She was a poor lady. We did not go to the school. Every day she read from the Bible to us. She is dead, too, this four years.’
‘Do you know how old you are?’
‘We think it is seventeen years. We are strong boys, but no one will give us work. We were sitting on the side of the road outside the Shell station on Moi Avenue. Patrick Uchome …’
‘Patrick Uchome? How did you know this man?’
‘The old lady who cared for us lived close by his family’s plantation.’
Brother Adam startled Sonya and Maria for the second time. While his brother had been talking, Adam had lain with his back resting against the wall, dozing and seemingly uninterested. Suddenly he took up the story, speaking lucidly and with a good deal of passion.
‘Uchome is a very bad man. He tricked us. He say, “Hey, Karume boys, get over here and pretty damn quick!” There were three of them in that big car coming out the Shell place. Smart fellahs, city folks. “How you like to earn five hundred shillings? Bet you never had so much money in your pocket”.’
When Adam hesitated, Andrew took up the story.
‘And what we got to do for this money? “Easy things. Take you no time. If you do good job, we give you five hundred each. Get in!” Tell you the truth, Memsahib, we were too scared not to get in.’
Adam gently touched his brother’s arm. He was ready to continue.
‘That car moved pretty damn fast, but we did not go far. It was coming to evening time. We went into a plantation. The workers were gone home. We stopped outside a hut just like this one. Uchome had a key. We all went inside. “Sit down on the boxes in the corner.” The three of them were talking very quiet. We didn’t want to hear their words. When darkness came he told us to get outside and tell him if we saw anyone getting near.’
There was a sudden silence. Both brothers seemed unable to continue. They looked out into the sunshine to avoid meeting the eyes of Sonya and Maria.
‘I remember Anna, the old lady who looked after you. She was a good lady. You said that she read the Bible to you …’
‘Until she learned us to read, Memsahib Maria, and then …’
‘You read to her. Hosea and me read the book every night together.’
‘Someone stole ours.’
‘You shall have mine. It is in the car.’ Maria paused and reached out to take the brothers’ hands. She began again. There was a kindly wistfulness in her penetrating eyes. ‘Have you noticed how every time God asks one of his prophets and even Jesus himself to do some hard thing, He is somewhere close by, ready to help them? It was hard for Memsahib Sonya to come here today. And now you have a hard thing. If we close our eyes we will understand that He is here, as usual.’
‘There are terrible things.’
‘I know, Adam, and I am ready.’
Adam and Andrew were far from ready to begin the difficult part of their story. They shifted along the bed until their bodies touched. They looked down at the paved floor, at each other and out into the sunshine. The effort showed in brief grunts of pain as if their lips, closed tight, were fighting to keep back the flow of words.
Sonya and Maria held hands and stared blankly at the whitewashed wall beyond the brothers’ bed, waiting patiently, trying to shut down their active, vivid imaginations. When the words came, they gushed out in a pained duet as if they were actors checking their lines in a speed recitation of perfectly remembered lines.
‘Memsahib, the big man opened the back of that car. I screamed.’
‘We both screamed. The naked man was lying very still.’
‘But he was not dead. His arms and legs were tied and they rolled him roughly and we saw his face.’
They broke off, this time in an effort to hold back tears.
‘Mama Sonya, it was Doctor Simon. They took the cloth from his mouth and cut the ropes.’
‘They pushed him into the room, kicked him. He made no noise. They screamed bad words into his face.’
‘Then they argued. Uchome was angry with the other men. “You were paid to finish the job.”’
‘“Uchome, we have done our part. We are going back to Nairobi now and we are taking the car. And if you are wise, you will say nothing to Rubai!”’
‘That was the name. Paul said that this was the name we must remember when the time comes. Rubai.’
Maria wanted to be sure she had understood.
‘So the men went away in the car and left you with the doctor and Uchome who is a fat man?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you did not try …’
‘Mama Maria, Uchome had a gun. He shouted at us. “Damn you! Down on your knees in that corner. And damn you, Rubai!” He was very scared.’
‘He kicked the doctor in the back. I still remember the noise as he hit the ground.’
‘It was very quick. Uchome stabbed the doctor in the back two, three times.’
‘Uchome screamed like a frightened child.’
‘It was finished.’
‘Uchome breathed heavy. Then he was calm. He said: “Now we wait. Then you will earn your money.”’
‘Much time passed. “You have one more job.” Please, Mama, it was … the hands. We cannot speak this thing!’
‘I know. I know. Sonya, darling, shall we leave these boys in peace?’
‘Maria, a strange thing has been going on. You would understand it better than me. All the time we have been in this room listening, I have heard another voice.’
‘Simon.’
‘A whisper in harmony with the boys. I heard the voice but no words that I could catch with my mind. Maria, I feel so sorry for these boys. When this is all finished we will help them.’
Adam, calm a
gain, had heard Sonya’s words to Maria.
‘Memsahib Maria, perhaps you will believe us. Uchome told us that we must hurt the doctor’s hands.’
‘We told him that he could shoot us, but we would not do this thing. He shouted and put the gun to our heads. We did not do it.’
‘“Then you must carry this lump of meat and dump him where I tell you. Pick it up. Now!”’
Adam checked with his brother before he spoke again. Andrew nodded.
‘By the light of the two candles burning on the floor, we saw the blood on the doctor’s back, dried hard now. Andrew’s words gave me courage. “We can do honour to this good man. We will carry him gently. Adam …”’
‘I said: We will tell ourselves that we are carrying Jesus himself, from the cross to the tomb.’
‘There was no heaviness in this man. He was a handful of grass in our arms.’
‘We moved quickly. Uchome followed with his gun in his hand.’
‘We came to the place, near the gate of a big plantation. “Throw him down.” We put him down gently.’
‘“You like him so much, you can join him. The cops will find you all in one place. I like it. Neat!”’
‘Andrew threw a handful of earth and stones into the fat man’s face and we ran into the plantation and hid in the tea bushes. In the morning the early workers found us. They saw the blood on our hands …’
Chapter Thirty
bi, can you see the boys in the car behind?’
‘They’ve caught up now, Boss.’
‘And you do know where this place is?’
‘My sister lives in the army camp. Married to an officer. She says to park by the police station. This … hospital is next door. She says the army boys call it “the loony bin”.’
‘The local MP, the man we have come to meet, would not approve. But Simon Nyache has a tender heart.’
‘No, Papa, he is just getting soft in his old age. Why does he make such a fuss about this place?’