Boss Takes All

by Carl Hancock

  ‘True, Daniel. But I know several judges who will be ready to take this on.’

  ‘And thousands of supporters for the Big Man, ready to block us. Good logistics will be almost as important as good evidence.’

  Mary shuddered as she punched her fist into her palm. ‘We are going to win. I can feel it.’

  ‘You sound as confident as my sister, Maria!’

  ‘And, weeks ago now, Joshua Gombo said to contact him if we needed help.’

  ‘He’d give Rubai a fair trial. Great choice.’

  * * *

  ‘Did you really go to Thika? Just three hours all that way?’

  ‘I had a lift from Doctor Sonya. Your mother already knew about Saul. I don’t have to tell you who told her?’

  ‘Did he go himself?’

  Maria’s reply came in the arching of her eyebrows and a dismissive gesture with the palms of her hands.

  ‘But she knows you are safe. That news brought out the smiles and the tears. She hates Abel Rubai, but you know that already. She’s a lovely lady. I wanted to stay and talk, but she hurried me off, to check that her boys were all right.’

  ‘Who are you anyway?’

  ‘My name is Maria Kabari and my husband is a sergeant … in the Kenya police.’

  ‘Ah, so you are keeping watch until he comes to arrest us!’

  ‘I am also a healer. No one is coming to arrest you, but I want you to tell me about yourselves.’

  ‘We already have told you about the past. The future, easy. Right, Sammy?’

  ‘Yes. We walk across the road and report to the boss. He gets one of his boys to put one between our eyes. Most people think we are dead already.’

  ‘Your mother knows better.’

  ‘So says the healer woman, whatever that is. She and her friends want us to tell stories about the boss, probably to some old judge. That way we get to live a bit longer.’

  ‘Right, Eli. That way we have company when we go down. Ever see a lion and his mate chasing after a warthog? Ever see the warthog win, even get away?’

  ‘The boss knows all the moves, has all the top people, hit men, lawyers, you name it. Most of all he has the cash.’

  ‘I agree. Everything you say is right. We want to get him, but we can’t. His ship has all the big guns!’

  ‘Memsahib, you are one very weird woman, but you’re good-looking …’

  ‘And you make us laugh.’

  ‘Do you boys ever watch the television?’

  ‘Course we do! Every day when we’re not on a job. We love action movies, plenty of bang-bang and blood.’

  ‘Ever seen real life stories? Say, someone climbing Everest or going to the moon? Or ever heard the story of Goliath and David?’

  ‘Is that the same one as David and Goliath?’

  ‘Sammy, you are such a idiot sometimes!’

  ‘No, Eli. Sammy’s right to check. The point is most of us would say: “Leave me out of that stuff. It is exciting but too dangerous. I can’t do it!” But what if you could have people to try these things with you? We know the risks, but we feel something in the corner of our brains telling us that we can win.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So your mother just lost her boy, Saul, because he took a risk for a bad thing. Would she want you to go over to the Rubai place and say: “Okay, Boss, we hear you been looking for us. Here we are”?’

  The glum but thoughtful expressions encouraged Maria.

  ‘But what would Mama Akamba think if she knew you were taking a risk for a good thing, with lots of people with you, all in it together? And you people just felt in the corner of your brains that you had a chance, that the big ugly, nasty bear could be put in a cage and your new friends might be able to send you back home to her?’

  ‘I was right. You are weird!’

  ‘Yes, Eli, weird, and stupid. You said that you are not stupid. Now that you know our plan, what’s to stop you going across the road and giving the boss the good news?’

  After a very long pause when the brothers exchanged glances several times and took time to look into the beautiful, compassionate eyes of this strange woman, at last Eli was ready to reply.

  ‘Yes, we could go across the road and give him this news. Maybe he would offer us that Tusker, but, before morning, in the corner of our brains you were talking of there would still be a hole where the bullet passed through.’

  Maria smiled. ‘I have kept you from your rest. Tomorrow you will be stronger and the next day better yet. Perhaps you might want to sing one of my songs. But, if you do decide to cross the road, no one will get in your way.’

  ‘I wish Mama was with us, Eli!’

  ‘And poor Saul.’

  ‘We’ve fucked up, haven’t we?’

  Chapter Thirty-five

  t would not be a long job, but it would give everyone in the town who saw it a boost. There would be a new hospital. There was the big slab of concrete laid out on the old field and now the sign to show what it was for. While Tom drove the heavy support posts deep into the ground, Rebecca buffed up the sign itself, a substitute for the original stored in a shed in Londiani. She rubbed the polished oak vigorously, concentrating on the gold lettering: THIS IS OUR HOSPITAL.

  As Tom was tightening the last of the bolts, vehicles pulled up onto the verge to check out the words written on the shiny new piece of wood near the entrance to the old pasture land. One curious onlooker came from the direction of the large shed where building materials were being stockpiled. The tall, swarthy man held his hand out in greeting.

  ‘Rebecca, Tom, forgive the informality, but I feel I know you so well.’

  Tom was unsure only briefly.

  ‘Mister Courtney, you know my, our, grandmother well.’

  ‘It’s Mordecai and yes, Rafaella is an old friend. We often swap books. She gave me Italian lessons when I was pretentiously keen to read Signor Dante in the original. And, please, forgive me for trespassing. I did tell old Jim Sawyer that I was on the site. I do have a good reason as well.’

  ‘Mordecai, you are welcome, anytime. The more people interested in our work here the better.’

  ‘Rebecca, it’s an honour to meet you. Believe it or not, I saw one of your New York concerts. Breathtaking stuff! Toni Wajiru is a friend, too. This hospital is the best thing that has happened to this town in a hundred years. Seriously. You take a walk around the place, but I’m sure you do. Tom, you could win the seat here. The people are bubbling.’

  ‘Ah, and you must know that KANU have Abel Rubai’s son running.’

  ‘Old misery guts, the father not the son! I suppose you heard that he ordered, ordered mind, the council to knock it all down.’

  ‘No, we didn’t know, but we are not surprised, Tom, are we?’

  ‘Look at this. Copy of the email I sent in reply, at the request of the council, of course!’

  They read together with mounting amusement.

  ‘And what was his reply?’

  ‘Nothing, so far! Do you have a few minutes? I know Abel Nathaniel Rubai, probably better than anyone in the country. Listen. Twenty-six years ago when he and Sally came down from the hills to work for Neisland, Kapper and Reed in Nairobi, I was on the staff. But, in those days, I was Mordecai Cohen. Complicated story, no crookery involved. I don’t suppose he’d remember me. On second thoughts!’

  ‘But you say you know him really well?’

  ‘Yes, I know him. I’m writing his biography. True, true. It will sell a lot of copies when it comes out. It would sell millions if it came out tomorrow. But I’d be dead by the next morning!’

  ‘That Rubai we both recognise.’

  ‘Yes, you in the Kakamega Hills, Tom. Both of you with the unwholesome Julius.

  Yes, AN Rubai is a first-class bastard, but he wasn’t always like that. He is very bright and, in terms of finance, as honest a man as you could ever meet. He could have made a very good president. He had the strength to see off the many crooks with which this country, in common with
most others, is liberally blest. Instead he became the number one crook himself.’

  ‘But how do we get rid of a man like that? Look around you. He wants to stop all this work.’

  ‘How do you get rid of him, Rebecca? There are two choices: a bullet between the eyes, or your way.’

  ‘Our way?’

  ‘But getting him in front of a judge will be a tough job!’

  ‘How did you know …?’

  ‘About the court case? Complicated story, a bit like name changing from Cohen to Courtney. But if you need any help, I’m your man. I have a stack of useful stuff.’

  ‘My grandma …’

  ‘Thomas, don’t!’

  ‘Sorry, ‘becca! She knows that Rafaella hates that word. But … my father’s mother has talked about you. I thought you lived overseas.’

  ‘Right, New York, where I saw that concert, but mostly in Nairobi. But I’ve decided to build my resting place on land I’ve owned for years, on the other side of the lake. I was asking Jim if he could fit me in to build it. Perhaps I’m hoping to be able to finish my book over there. Rebecca, you asked about getting rid of him. Tell you the truth, I think he’ll bring himself down, sooner rather than later.’

  ‘Can’t be soon enough for us!’

  ‘He’s really lost it the last year or so. Rebecca, you’ve been a very big problem for him.’

  ‘Me? But how?’

  ‘I’m a student of the history of Rome, particularly the emperors. They couldn’t stand it when they saw someone stronger than themselves come along. Rubai’s just like that. He’s no fool and he recognises that you are a stronger force than he is.’

  ‘But this is plain crazy.’

  ‘You are the most popular person in the country. You are beautiful. He still blames you and Tom for the death of his beloved spoilt son. He is mad with hate. It’s an obsession.

  ‘“Leave the country”.’ Ever had that advice given to you? Please, Jacob and Joseph, don’t think of it! Now this place. My email didn’t help. We could do with King Solomon to pass on some advice!’

  ‘Think of it, Rebecca, we only came over this morning to put up our little sign!’

  * * *

  The sudden death of Julius had hit Abel Rubai hard, and more deeply than he realised. In quiet moments, he lamented to himself a loss of confidence. His favourite cliche that difficulties were opportunities in disguise had lost its lustre. He was besieged by two major concerns. Every effort to find the missing Akamba brothers had failed. He was beginning to feel tempted to believe the advice of his chief lieutenants that the boys were dead.

  ‘Show me the bodies and then I will believe you.’

  And the defiant reply to his instruction to the Naivasha Council to destroy the beginnings of the new hospital in the town was an even bigger blow. Many people in his camp knew the contents of the letter and were watching him closely. They had never seen him tested like this before. The inhabitants of the scruffy little town needed a thumping to bring them back in line. No doubt the boss had a plan of action, but they were anxious to see evidence of it.

  Sally, too, had noticed signs of nervousness in her husband.

  ‘Abel, perhaps we should call in the doctor. You are off your food and you are not sleeping properly.’

  ‘Sally, there is no problem, just a dilemma, a win-win situation. I want to make sure it is a big win. That is all there is to it.’

  To solve the Naivasha problem, he decided to take a chance on someone outside the circle of Nairobi hard men. His chiefs had been keeping an eye on a twenty-six year old man who had spent most of his life in the northern borderland. Nimosi Murroni was a young Turkana warrior with an addiction to very violent solutions to problems. His family were cattle herders and had suffered badly in defending their animals against marauding war parties from across the border with Ethiopia. As a fourteen year old he had lost an eye in one of these raids, but he had fought on and helped to drive the raiders back, and become a local hero. Over the years more and more of his family were wiped out in these same wars. At last he had reluctantly given in to pleas from his grandmother, his last surviving relative, to move south.

  ‘Mama, I will take you to a safe place, but when you have passed on, I will return and fight again. But I will have money then and the pigs from the north will pay in blood for what they have done to us.’

  They moved first to Marsabit, then to Isiolo and finally, drawn by the hope of making quick money, to Nairobi. When the offer came of a one night job with a big payout, he seized the chance.

  ‘Look, Murroni, you got sixteen, eighteen boys ready to take with you? See, some people up north of here think they can mess about with a really important person who is rich enough to pay many thousands of shillings, American dollars if you like.’

  ‘Yeah, sixteen, all Turkana. They don’t like this city life. They don’t like city people.’

  ‘Great! The boss will like that. So you won’t mind if there’s a little blood about the place? The more blood, the bigger the payout. You fail, no money. The boss wants results. Understand?’

  ‘No worries, man. Tell him to be down to the bank early.’

  Two privately hired matatus pulled out of the ABC Centre on the edge of the inner city when Murroni decided that the night traffic on the road north out of Nairobi was light enough to allow them easy passage to the end of the dual carriage and down the winding hill to the valley of the Great Rift. Most of the passengers were younger than their leader and had followed him south from the homeland. They, too, shared his dream to return home one day and, as they saw it, to set their people free. Murroni had no trouble persuading them. For the first time since they had left the north, they would be working together and picking up wild amounts of money for one easy job.

  ‘We are Turkana and we fight like the warriors we were and will be again.’

  They were psyched up for a battle. With them were four southerners who knew the way to the place and would have their own jobs to do when they got there.

  ‘Okay. You take care of the buildings and we will take care of the warriors.’

  ‘Murroni, with any luck there be few warriors, just watchmen who will scatter to the hills as soon as they see us coming. You will never earn easier money than you will tonight.’

  ‘My boys want there to be many warriors. They need the practice. See how excited they are! But this Boss, we can trust him to pay?’

  ‘Always. He is excited, too. He heard that you are a bit crazy. His heart is in it. You boys will be able to buy yourselves beer for the next two years.’

  ‘We will not waste the money. We have important work with our people.’

  ‘Suit yourselves, brother!’

  ‘And, Bwana, we are not crazy! Every one of these boys is special.’

  There was no sleeping or nodding off on that journey. The young Turkana men had done small jobs in the city - hold-ups, burglaries, kidnappings - but they were convinced that in this country place they would have the chance to be real warriors again.

  On the last bend down the Escarpment, the excitement mounted. No one had told them about the big lake in the valley. The large flat plate of water gleamed under a full moon, just like their lake at home.

  The vans sped along the empty straight on the valley floor. At the first sighting of the lights of Naivasha, they began their final preparations, making sure that their weapons were to hand. As they passed over the level crossing, Murroni gave his boys an order.

  ‘Bend low. As we go through this town, no one must see you. We must not spoil our little surprise. Izzy, flash your torch to the vehicle behind. They must hide, also. And be ready. The time is very near now. When we stop, do not move until I tell you.’

  * * *

  There was plenty of life in the centre of town. The large trucks on their way north from the coast, carrying goods to Uganda and the Sudan, were parked on the wide dusty verges. The bars were open and doing a good trade. Music blared as it did into the early hours seven
nights a week at this popular staging post.

  A few minutes later, with everyone upright again on their seats, they pulled up in front of a pair of metal gates secured by a chain and padlock. One of the city boys made quick work of getting through this barrier with his heavy-duty bolt cutters. The vans moved inside and parked under a tree away from the large, flat slab of concrete. The passengers waited inside on the lookout for the smallest signs of life in the shadows around them.

  There was life, but the two askaris on duty had fled to shelter as soon as they spotted the white vans pulling up in front of the gates. Following instructions, they dialled the number of the police station. From there calls radiated to other parts of the town. The askari’s mobile was kept open just in case there would be more news to pass on.

  The vans emptied quickly and four Turkana stood guard while equipment was unloaded. Still there was no sign of anyone to give them a fight. Murroni sensed disappointment.

  ‘First job is to dig holes under the concrete for the dynamite. That will wake them up around here. We’ll leave the fire till later. Keep you weapons close to you. They could be all watching and waiting. And keep the noise down!’

  In strategic positions around the block the energised warriors dug ferociously.

  ‘Hey! Hey! That’s plenty big enough. Now go and find some rock to hide behind, a hole, anything, that shed, but not too close! Try that old wall close to the fence.’

  The charges were set and the deep silence of the night was broken by the distant sound of vehicles moving towards them from the town. There was a mixed reaction from the raiders. The city men older and more experienced calculated that they could finish the job and have an even chance of getting out of the compound and making the two hundred metres to the A104 without being discovered.

  ‘Change of plan. Get back to the vans. Tell drivers to start up. We could be in luck here. We are ready to blow.’

  Murroni’s men despised this cowardice.

  ‘No! We stand and fight.’

  ‘Crazy savages! The job is done. Pick up your money and go home. Have a real war up there. Dead men do not collect their wages!’