Boss Takes All

by Carl Hancock

  ‘Is it beginning, Thomas?’

  ‘It is. Earlier than planned, but, after last night we can’t give him the time to do more damage.’

  ‘And we can win?’

  Tom smiled and looked up at the stars.

  ‘The answer is up there!’

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  olo was not flown out on the KLM flower plane that Sunday night. Calls had passed between Londiani and Llanelli since late morning and the final arrangement was that a group of Iolo’s family and friends would get themselves to Amsterdam and travel back to Kenya on the empty return flight.

  On Monday the flow of telephone calls and emails increased to a flood. The many that offered sympathy to Rebecca each included offers of support as well as cheques for thousands of shillings. Eddie and Rollo volunteered to be temporary hospital accountants. Jim Sawyer arrived early with a complete set of plans.

  ‘I always keep duplicates at home just in case. On the way here, I stopped with a few of my boys. The two policemen on the gate let us in to have a look around. The young lads were in tears straight away. They were back in the truck in five minutes. I didn’t last much longer, but I saw enough to tell me that, if we do go on, we’ll have to start from scratch.’

  ‘Jim, no ifs!’

  ‘Great, Alex. If you don’t mind, the boys and I will go back to the site. Yes, I know, but when they find out that we’re on the move, they’ll be ready for anything. I just hope we don’t find anything … difficult. On the way here, they told me they were willing to work for nothing. That was a first for me!’

  The rebuilding of Londiani was almost complete. Maura and Rafaella had asked that the dining room and the kitchen should be the first places to be made ready for normal living. So it was in the dining room, with a whiff of fresh paint still in the air that thirteen friends sat around the oval oak table, ready for the most important meeting of their lives.

  At one end sat Paul Miller, flanked on one side by his sister, Maria, and on the other by his brother, Barnaby. Directly opposite were Daniel Komar, Rebecca and Tom. Across the middle, Stephen faced Rafaella, Hosea looked over to Caroline and Maura had a direct view of Alex and his best friend, Bertie. Paul spoke first.

  ‘We could be here for some time, so before we get down to business, does anyone have something relevant that we have not heard?’

  Maria was first up.

  ‘As you know, I have spent the last few days in Cartref with the Akamba boys, Eli and Sammy. Physically they have recovered well after the car crash on the A104. We talked a lot about the death of younger brother, Saul, the driver of the car. I made two visits to Thika to see their mother. She’s a wonderful woman, grateful to us for managing to save two of her boys. She’s on our side. She blames Rubai for ruining the lives of the family. When I left them they were on a tour of the garden with Dorothy, learning about flowers and shrubs and how to look after them.’

  Bertie was anxious. ‘But, Maria, what’s to stop them just walking through the gates to join their old boss across the road?’

  ‘Nothing! And that is one reason why they won’t go. They are free and have the chance of staying free. It may sound naive, but I believe these two kids are discovering that life can be different for them.’

  ‘Bloody hell! But, Paul, I thought these two could be our strongest witnesses.’

  ‘Right, Bertie, but if we want things to change here, we can’t use the old ways and lock these kids up until we need them and when they’ve done their bit, throw them out on the streets.’

  ‘Bit risky, isn’t it?’

  ‘Right again, but what isn’t risky about what we are trying to do?’

  ‘Sorry, Paul. Letting the side down and all that.’

  ‘No, Bertie, you’re not letting anyone down. Daniel, Barnie and I have been working on this plan day and night. Perhaps it’s getting through to me more than I realised.’

  Daniel continued to build the picture of what they were letting themselves in for.

  ‘Barnie put it well. “We are trying to get water to run uphill.” Impossible.’

  ‘Thank you, gentlemen. That’s very encouraging.’

  ‘Worst case, Maura. We have to think about that.’

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, five of us here are law people. I’m just a farm boy, not very clever, but there are thirteen of us around this table. For me that’s a good sign. Best case. There were thirteen around that table a long time ago. They turned the world upside down. We only have one foolish man to teach a lesson to.’

  ‘On the nail, Stephen. Just thirteen here, but I thank God for the thousands who are not here who will make sure that Abel Rubai discovers that he is not top of the class in Kenya. We are taking our country back. So, bwana of bwanas, boss of bosses, your time has passed. Barnie, you start.’

  ‘Thank you, brother. Once we get our friend in front of a judge in a courtroom, we have a great bunch of evidence to hit him with. Eight big bombs, at least. But how do we get him there? Do we drive up to his front door at his mansion in Karen and say, “Abel Nathaniel Rubai, this is a warrant for your arrest. Will you please accompany me … etcetera”?’

  It may surprise you, but that is exactly how we plan to make our first move, but a little more subtly and at a time that we chose. Caroline will explain.’

  ‘We make our first move next Sunday, very early. Three cars will draw up at the front door of the Rubai home. The charges will be read out to the defendant in front of a magistrate and we shall read him his rights. Paul will be our lawyer and we will have his lawyer there. Three weeks later, there is a court booked in Nairobi. We have been advised from high up that this is the minimum notice we can give.’

  ‘Caroline, in three weeks, in three hours more like, his people will be all over us.’

  ‘Correct, Tom, if we were trying to hold him in his Karen home. But within an hour of his arrest he will be on his way to one of six locations we have prepared for His Majesty.’

  ‘Is that legal?’

  Caroline smiled. ‘Probably not, Alex, but we’ve got good reasons.’

  Bertie offered a quick solution.

  ‘We could say he made a dash for the door and we had to shoot the bastard. Sorry, Raf. Slipped out and all that!’

  Tom was highly amused. ‘Then we’d have riots on the streets and we’d be making a run for it.’

  ‘That’s why there will be late editions of The Nation and The Standard plus special early morning television and radio programs, all carrying news of the arrest and a full list of charges. That will hold off the riots for a while. And in the three weeks we will drip out little bits of news, “from our special correspondent”, telling the world how the brave Abel is standing up to his captors and looking forward to his day in court.’

  ‘And back here in Londiani?’

  ‘Life will move on at its usual leisurely pace, except that you, Bertie, with Ewan and Lydia could be on a short break for a couple of days, just as a precaution.’

  ‘Njoro, Kisumu, Nanyuki, so many people want to help, even though they have no notion of what’s really happening.’

  ‘No, no, Paul. Not a good idea. Naivasha is the safest place in the country for us right now.’

  ‘Fine, fine. This town will be off his radar. He thinks he has won again. In five days he will learn a new truth.’

  * * *

  ‘In case someone is not sure, the people from Wales arrive tomorrow, with Iolo’s funeral on Wednesday. There will be twelve altogether. I’m dreading it in one way, but they are in for the best up-country welcome we can give them. Iolo has given us so much, too much.’

  ‘Memsahib, Angela and I would like to be here.’

  ‘Stephen, no more memsahib. We are all family now. You must be here. The Welsh are good singers … I tell you something. I’m ready to go. No more fear. But Alex is giving me lessons on how to shoot straight. Sorry, Stephen, Caroline, but if anyone does stray down this way and starts threatening …’

  Barnie took ad
vantage of the emotional lull to add another piece of news.

  ‘Perhaps some of you don’t know it, but the story of the attack has gone all ‘round the world. Debbie has received dozens of emails. Rebecca, you’re a good part of the reason for this. Two weeks ago, The Globe in Boston ran a story about you, the famous singer - yes, their words, not mine - and ‘This is our hospital’. It’s not important just now, but the dollars are flowing into the trust fund Debbie and some friends set up when she was working on the plans for the hospital.’

  Paul added, ‘And next Sunday morning after we’ve presented Rubai with our list of charges, that list is going global, too.’

  * * *

  ‘Maura, Iolo loved this country, the people. He told us that he was coming back when he qualified. The funny thing is that, as soon as we heard the news, Albie and I were sure that he should rest out here. Now that we’ve seen how beautiful it is here … I’m sorry.’

  ‘We’ll look after him. Remember, Londiani is your home, too, now. We’ll take you into the town. When they find out who you are, you’ll see how much everyone loved him.’

  But first came the funeral. The young Reverend Billy Rees was the only one of the Welsh party who saw the grave before the burial. Tom explained about the garden.

  ‘It was planted just a few weeks ago. We lost the old one when the house burned down. You’ll see the difference when the rains come.’

  ‘Breathtaking!’

  ‘He’ll be on the edge. He’ll have a Welsh oak for shade and a view of the lake.’

  It was no surprise to see so many mourners gathered on the grassy plain studded with flat-topped acacia. The handsome waterbuck looked up from their grazing before deciding to move closer to the lake to finish their lunch. The crowds sat on the ground to wait. The collective whisper of their voices created a buzz. The silence was instant when the procession appeared from around the corner of the new house. Even from the last rows the view was clear. In front their own Stephen Kamau towered over the pale mzungo pastor at his side. Iolo’s three friends and the McCall boys shouldered the dark coffin.

  The sight of Iolo’s family triggered the tears and the sobbing, but there were none of the uninhibited individual calls of pain usually heard at country funerals. When the coffin was laid on a wooden stand close to the grave, the mzungos, men and women, gathered around and sang a song in a strange language. By the third verse, many in the crowd, now standing, swayed slowly and hummed the haunting melody.

  When everyone sat down again, the young pastor placed one hand on the coffin, bowed his head and cried out in a voice that surprised them with its power, incomprehensible words but with unmistakable longing and passion.

  The tears of the mourners began again, pierced this time with the shouts of anguish and sometimes anger, even cries for revenge.

  The small platform set up by the coffin had last been used at the wedding of Rebecca and Tom. This time three men spoke the last words over the dead ‘almost’ doctor. The first was Paul Miller.

  ‘Brothers and sisters, I will not keep you long. Londiani is one of the most lovely places in our part of Great Rift Valley, but we all know that it has been the scene of much tragedy in recent months. And now you good people of Naivasha have more suffering to bear. Still fresh in my memory is a funeral that took place in the township of Kibera not very long ago. Some words I spoke there come back to me now. I say that we should not be in this place today. Back then we were crying for the loss of Doctor Simon Mboya, a great friend to the poor people of this country. Today we honour the memory of ‘almost Doctor’ Iolo Jones. No need for the word ‘almost’ to your friends here. But we will not seek revenge. “Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord”, Jeremiah tells us. But we demand justice. And I pledge to you people who have come to us from a faraway country that Iolo Owain Jones will not be forgotten by the people of Kenya in its struggle for peace and harmony.’

  The Reverend Billy Rees was in front of them again. This time the power of his voice was muted. ‘Ivor Jones, David Davies, Philip Jones and Iolo Jones made us very proud on the day they announced that were coming to this country in the Lord’s service. We listened to the reports they sent back to us with great interest and usually with amusement. Four days ago a report came to us in the middle of the night that shocked us deeply. Iolo had been taken from us and from you. Words cannot help too much at a time like this and I cannot see the Lord’s hand in this. But Iolo came to this beautiful country to offer his talent and his warm heart. In the end, he was willing to offer his life. And, Rebecca, our whole church blesses you for your wonderful dream and for letting our young men share it with you.’

  Stephen put both his hands on the coffin.

  ‘Let us bow our heads and listen. The Spirit blows where the Spirit chooses. Today, perhaps he will choose you.’

  For the youngest, the silence was long and puzzling. They half understood what was going on but were disappointed that Bwana Kamau was not telling them one of his stories that always made them laugh and usually taught them something, even when they did not realise it. Most of the older ones maintained the silence with a special effort and certainly did not expect anyone up there to choose them to speak to. A few who heard nothing more than their own breath rising and falling felt the touch of calm that they had not brought with them to Londiani.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  t three-thirty am, three cars met at a crossroads in Karen. They had travelled by separate routes from the city to avoid any possibility of creating suspicion. From where they had parked on a wide verge, they took a right turn. Headlights were switched off for the last few hundred metres to their destination, the large pink house clearly visible under its bright security lights.

  The advance party had done their job well. The gatehouse was not manned and there was no sign of any guards in the parkland surrounding the house. They parked on the lawn far back from the main door and the twelve occupants of the cars, not all of them there willingly, hurried on using the thick grass to muffle their steps.

  Within five minutes of entering, the intruders had calmed the shocked household and persuaded Abel Nathaniel Rubai to leave his bedroom to join his unwelcome visitors downstairs in his conference room. Paul Miller explained their presence to their furious host.

  ‘No one will be hurt and no damage will be done …’

  ‘Miller, get your thugs out my house this minute and maybe, just maybe I will be willing to forget this outrage. Is that you, Alfred? Don’t tell me that you are …’

  ‘Mister Koyane is here as your advocate to see that everything is done according to the demands of the law.’

  ‘Get out of my house! Now!’ Rubai screamed. The sound of a child crying in the distance drove him close to apoplexy. ‘Get out! Get out! When my men get here, they will shoot you down like the wild animals you are!’

  With no sign of emotion, Miller continued.

  ‘This is Mister Collins Roberts, a magistrate whose area of responsibility includes the township of Kibera. Normally business of this nature would not be held in a defendant’s house, but for the sake of public order.’

  Rubai’s manner turned instantly, but his roar of laughter had a hollow ring to it.

  ‘You are trying to arrest me?’

  ‘And Inspector Caroline Miggot will read you your rights and then the list of charges. Your lawyer will have a copy of these, of course.’

  ‘Haven’t I seen you before? At least you’ve given me one good-looking out of three. Just as well for you, sister. When you are dismissed, probably by this evening, you will find it easy to get customers downtown.’

  ‘Mr Rubai, I must caution you …’

  ‘Yeah, blah, blah, blah. And don’t forget you are not allowed to have more than two shits a day except on Sunday, etcetera. Naivasha, yeah, that’s where I saw you. A Rift Valley stitch-up …’

  Alfred Koyane broke in.

  ‘I’ve had a scan of this list of charges. Murder, murder, attempted murder … Are you be
ing serious?’

  ‘I tell you that your client will have his chance to refute these charges in court …’

  ‘Miller, stop talking like a constipated arsehole and get real. Suppose I behave like a good little boy and allow myself to be taken to some lockup in the city. Once news gets out, you idiots won’t make it as far as the Ngong Road. You’ve ruined a Sunday morning for me and my family. I’m about to ruin the rest of your lives. I’m going upstairs. I need to check on my wife and kids.’

  Miller blocked his path. ‘We have no beef with any of them.

  We’ve got good people up there looking after them. So, I’m sorry …’

  ‘Out of my fucking way …’

  ‘Put the cuffs on him!’

  Two lanky but strong policemen used the impetus of Rubai’s charge to spin him ‘round. One pulled Rubai’s hands behind his back and the other closed the manacles on his wrists. Neither of the sergeants was wearing a uniform. Of the five police personnel in the room, only Inspector Caroline could be recognised as such.

  ‘Reasonable force, Mr Koyane?’

  ‘Mr Miller, do you know who you are dealing with here?’

  For the first time, Paul Miller dropped the bland, formal manner.

  ‘We certainly do. This is no game. This is an honest attempt by the people of this country to put this murdering scourge where he belongs!’

  Rubai detected a tremble in the venom of Miller’s anger. He replied calmly in a tone of sneering contempt.

  ‘Go ahead, you fool! In a month’s time, you and your puny comrades will be history. Treason is still a capital offence in this country.’

  ‘Treason! You megalomaniac! Who do you think you are? You have never been elected to any office of state. You have gathered around you a bunch of cronies who are shit-scared of you but hang around for the crumbs you throw down for them!’

  The theatrical silence that followed was disturbed by the sound of a powerful engine approaching the house. Paul smiled and pointed his right index finger towards the ceiling. ‘The way out!’