by Anthony Mugo
Sanse clicked his knuckles rapid-fire. “Now that is the most interesting thing I ever heard.”
“Everything is pegged on results.”
“Naturally. About that test?”
“I am just a cog in a huge machine. Anyway, I will see what I can do.”
“Thanks. One more thing. The police can’t know we talked.”
“Why?”
“I am working with them.”
“I don’t understand. Why not sell the idea to them?”
“They are the police and it is not their money,” Sanse said.
Mathew’s phone rang. “Here she is. I must run.”
“Sure.”
He passed by the counter then walked out. Sanse got his comb and began working on his hair.
Day 3 Saturday
Chapter 8
.
Onesmus Ndege took twenty minutes to honour Detective Pai’s request to report to the police station. He was still donning Ciuri’s campaign cap and t-shirt.
“Still campaigning?” Sanse asked. Ndege reminded him of a childhood pun that went like: ‘you are so tall airplanes honk at you.’
“I hope the body is someone else’s,” Ndege said. “We had a good chance, you know.”
“You lost the nominations,” Sanse said.
“The electorate feels disfranchised because we were rigged out. They are unruly because they have been denied the chance to right a wrong.”
“What makes you think the body is someone else’s?” Sanse asked.
“I doubt anyone would be so mad with Oscar.”
“What was the agenda of your meeting at Echo Club?”
“Campaign stuff,” Ndege said. “We planned to buy out a rival candidate.”
“Who?”
“Phillip Kioi.”
“Why him?”
“He has a following but doesn’t stand a chance. I was supposed to make him an offer the following day.”
“What kind of an offer?”
“A refund of his campaign expenses if he agreed to support our camp. It happens all the time.”
“Who knew of your plan?” Sanse said.
“No one.”
“What was your campaign budget?”
“Above three million.”
“Where was the money coming from?”
“Savings. Donations from supporters.”
“Two men confronted Oscar on his way out,” Pai said. “Who are they and what did they want?”
“Ephraim Gethi and Simon Wachira,” Ndege said. “They provided transport services. They wanted their dues. Oscar had not paid us for a week.”
“Why?” Pai asked.
“His account had a problem. He promised to settle everything first thing the following day. Gethi was particularly agitated because his sister was due for an operation in two days.”
“How much was due in total?” Pai asked.
“About a hundred thousand.”
“How much was due to the two?” Pai asked.
“Forty-two thousand.”
“What problem did Oscar have with his account?” Sanse asked.
“He said there was a fraudulent withdrawal. He gave the bank seven days to make a refund. Meanwhile he wouldn’t touch the account. He said he had received a call from the bank earlier in the day telling him that the anomaly had been rectified.”
“Did Gethi and Wachira know of the anomaly?” Sanse asked.
“Oscar felt that telling them the truth would cripple the campaign.”
“So, what did you tell them when time for payment came?” Sanse asked.
“That Oscar’s account had a problem,” Ndege said. “I omitted the seven-day thing.”
“You chose to tell us about Style Jo but not Wachira and Gethi,” Pai said. “Why?”
“To me the matter was settled.”
“How was it settled?”
Ndege hesitated. “Oscar gave a firm promise to settle our dues first...”
“What is your cut?” Sanse said.
“Ten thousand. Oscar had paid me some amount during the week.”
“How much?” Sanse asked.
“Twenty thousand.”
“Don’t you think it’s unfair to receive payment while your clue goes unpaid?” Sanse asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Would you have accepted Ciuri’s narrative as readily if you hadn’t received the twenty thousand?”
“You make it sound as if it was a bribe. I earned it.”
“Your crew earned their pay too,” Sanse said. “Did he provide documental evidence, say, a bank statement?”
“Are you suggesting that Ciuri was lying?”
“I am suggesting that you didn’t ask the hard questions because you had received twenty thousand.”
Ndege lost his head. “This is crazy!”
“Where did you go after the meeting?” Pai asked.
“Home.”
“What time did you arrive home?” Pai asked.
“Some minutes to nine.”
“When did the meeting end?” Pai asked.
“A quarter past seven.”
“How do we find Gethi and Wachira?” Pai asked.
“I’ll help you.”
The moment Wachira saw Ndege, Pai and Sanse approaching he took to his heels. Pai drew his weapon and shot in the air. Wachira bit the dust. Pai handcuffed and took him to the car.
Pai drove for a while before he said, “Tell us about Oscar Ciuri.”
“He died with my hard-earned cash,” Wachira said, his lazy eye struggling to take in the situation.
“I would pay double if my toe was chopped off,” Pai said.
“What…? Wait a minute. Are you accusing me of his murder?” Wachira faced Ndege. “What did you tell them?”
Ndege didn’t even look his way.
“This is insane,” Wachira said. “Ciuri promised to settle the amount first thing in the morning!”
“Why would you believe him?” Sanse said.
“He gave the promise in person,” Wachira said. “Ndege was in charge of hiring and payment. He had been promising to settle our dues each passing day. That is why we decided to accost Ciuri ourselves.”
“How much was the agreed pay?” Sanse asked.
“Three thousand paid daily. Ciuri would fuel the pick-up. Fourteen thousand belong to my boss.”
“Why did you run?” Pai asked.
“Ndege threatened to report us,” Wachira said.
Sanse turned to Ndege. “What did he do to you?”
“He told me that I also deserved to be dismembered,” Ndege said.
“For crying out loud!” Pai said.
“I didn’t mean it. I have to get my money somehow.”
“You put it neatly,” Sanse said.
Pai swerved the car onto a dirty road and accelerated. He stepped on the brakes, engaged the handbrake, jumped out and hauled Wachira out.
“What are you doing?” Wachira demanded. “What are you doing?”
Pai shoved Wachira away and got his gun. “Run.”
“Stop him,” Ndege told Sanse.
“Stop him?” Sanse said.
“This is extra-judicial killing!” Ndege said.
“You’re right,” Sanse said. “Still, the rascal deserves a bullet in his skull.”
“Are you two out of your minds?” Ndege tried to get out of the car but Sanse held him.
“I said run!” Pai barked.
“You want it to look like you shot me for escaping,” Wachira said. “You will have to do it in my face.”
“No problem,” Pai said. “I always carry a gun for planting.”
“You won’t get away with this!” Ndege said.
“If you don’t shut up I will shoot you too,” Pai barked corking his gun. “I only have one question: did you start with the legs, head or arms?”
“I didn’t kill him! I swear!”
A wet patch appeared on Wachira’s pants.
“Someone forg
ot their diapers,” Pai lowered his weapon. “Get back in the car.”
Sanse joined Pai outside the car.
“Are you okay?”
Pai wasn’t okay. On his arrival home last night he found Norah’s note on the table requesting permission to visit her aunt. When he tried to engage her in a conversation she walked out of the room. Let her be.
“What tells you I am not?” Pai asked.
“I just witnessed Jack Bauer in action.”
“Wachira did time for theft. I know the kind of person I am dealing with.”
When Sanse returned inside the car he lowered the window for fresh air.
“Where is Gethi?” Pai asked.
“He is at home in Karia,” Wachira said.
“Where do you live?” Pai asked.
“At Kiaritha.”
“We should check out Gethi first,” Sanse said.
“The wife is closer.”
Pai u-turned and spent towards Kiaritha. They were in Wachira’s single room within ten minutes.
Wachira’s wife reminded Pai of Norah. She didn’t look a day older than Norah. She scolded the toddler on her back who cried harder. A child rearing a child, Pai thought. According to her Wachira had arrived home at nine and didn’t leave until morning.
The four started to Karia. Pai had driven Sanse many times before but not this rough.
“This is suicidal,” Sanse said.
Pai continued to push the car unperturbed.
“I said this is suicidal.”
“I heard you the first time.”
It became more serene as they drove further from Kathare town. If sunshine and rain and greenery meant good life then Kathare was heaven. The residents were simple people with simple dreams. A few of them engaged in small businesses. Fewer were employed. The rest farmed on handkerchief portions of tired soil. Maize. Beans. Kale. Potatoes. Each harvest was worse than the last one. Yellowing coffee bushes dotted the farms like leftovers after a feast. The residents were hesitant to uproot the ‘black gold’ in the hope it would regain its allure one day.
“To get to my place branch left,” Ndege said.
Pai joined the rugged road to the left without uttering a word. Sanse upped his complaints; Pai pushed the car harder. Wachira and Ndege seemed to have resigned to their fate. Or maybe they were afraid to air their views.
At some point the road narrowed so that they had to squeeze aside to let another car pass. The farm to their left caught Sanse’s eye. Its hedge snaked up the eucalyptus in contest for sunlight. A peek through the hedge revealed sugar cane that had developed flower stock. Some birds were feeding on a ripe banana chirping noisily.
“Isn’t there a law to address hedges that encroach on the road?” Sanse observed.
“If it exists no one is there to follow it,” Ndege offered. “Karuthi Ngarira, the owner, has not been seen for two years.”
“Why?” Sanse asked.
“The popular version is that he is dead,” Ndege said. “He was a fearsome witchdoctor with no kin. It was said that he could change into anything. A cat. A dog. Anything. You didn’t stone every animal that strolled into your compound because it could be Karuthi Ngarira. Despite his absence weird stories still make the rounds. Of burning bushes that are not consumed. Of rain that bypasses the farm.”
“That is interesting,” Sanse said. “Is there anyone with a firsthand account of the fire or the rain?”
“Not anyone that I know of.”
Sanse embarked on clicking his knuckles. “A simple test could earn you six acres, you know.”
“What test?”
“A walk into the compound,” Sanse said.
“What?” Ndege said. “Perish the thought!”
Ndege’s wife’s, a plump woman in a headscarf and pleated ankle-length dress, confirmed that her husband had arrived home at nine. He only left at eight the following morning. Her two daughters corroborated her story.
Having no more use of Ndege they left him behind. According to Wachira Gethi’s home was four kilometres from the junction. Two kilometres from the junction they came upon Karia Coffee Factory. The sad story of the coffee sector was written in the falling structures.
Wachira told Pai to stop at a simple gate made of wood. Pai handcuffed Wachira and left him in the car to follow Sanse into the compound.
The mud-walled house and the emaciated cow talked of a hand-to-mouth existence. A bow-legged lad and two women were gathered around a sickly looking woman seated in a weaker chair. An elderly woman emerged from one of the houses adjusting her headscarf to join the reception party.
“They are expecting us,” Sanse said. “We should have checked on Gethi before Wachira’s wife.”
“Can we speak to Gethi?” Pai addressed the group.
“This way,” the bow-legged lad said. He led them to the smallest house in the compound which was made of timber cut-offs. On arrival at the house a young man in a vest and knickerbockers appeared at the door. His head was dotted with deadlock stubs like shrubs on an arid landscape.
“Gethi?” Pai said.
“Yes?”
“You should accompany us to the station,” Pai said.
“Why?” Gethi said.
“You know why,” Pai said. “We already have Wachira in custody,”
Gethi’s eyes oscillated between the two detectives for a while. “We didn’t kill him.”
“Kill who?” Pai asked.
“Oscar Ciuri. I came home direct. My nephew here can attest to that.”
“He is telling the truth,” the bow-legged boy said.
Sanse was sure he had seen the wide forehead before. “What is your relationship with Wachira’s wife?”
“She is my sister.”
“Is the woman in the chair your sister too?” Sanse asked.
Gethi nodded.
“What is ailing her?”
“She had a tumour.”
“Was she operated on?” Sanse asked.
Gethi nodded.
“How much did it cost?” Pai asked.
“A hundred and fifty thousand.”
“Ciuri didn’t pay yet you managed the operation,” Pai said.
Wachira hesitated. “We… we organised a fund-raiser.”
“When?”
“Saturday before last.”
Pai let Wachira free.
The two detectives didn’t exchange a word on their way back to town.
***
Sanse was restless as Boko fired questions at him and Pai for half an hour. Why not venture into the field himself? Sanse had never been so micromanaged before. Still, Boko remained one of the few tolerable bosses he had worked for.
“There is a new development,” Boko said. “Oscar Ciuri had a life policy.”
“How much?” Pai asked.
“Ten million.”
Pai whistled. Sanse kept a straight face.
“The insurer insists on a DNA test,” Boko said. “Let Diana know that we will take a sample from her daughter early tomorrow morning.”
“Right away sir,” Pai said.
“You must be happy now that there is a DNA test,” Pai said on their way to Ciuri’s homestead.
“You’re a fool to dare me this way,” Sanse said.
“I have a job and I intend to do it.”
“The day a man feels so insecure is the day he should find a new occupation.”
“You should start a house-help bureau,” Pai said. “Or stock sweets. Anything to keep your secretary busy. You’re not such a hot sell, you know.”
“Your boss doesn’t think so. Incidentally, could he be losing faith in you? Let’s hope not!”
Thirty or so people sat in a meeting at the open space. Diana broke away from the group and led Pai and Sanse into the house.
“Planning a burial is such a headache,” Diana said. “What now?”
“It appears your husband owed people money,” Sanse said.
“Who doesn’t? I’ll settle every penny once
I have access to his account.”
“What was wrong with his account?” Sanse asked.
Diana hesitated. “There was a foreign withdrawal of sixty thousand. He gave the bank seven days to effect a refund.”
“Which bank?” Sanse asked.
“Mercantile Finance.”
Thieves, Sanse told himself.
“How many creditors?” Sanse asked.
“I am still working on the list.”
“How many so far?” Sanse said.
“Ndege and his team,” Diana said. “The filling station.”
“We will conduct a DNA test,” Pai said.
Diana looked at him sharply. “Why? What for? Has anybody claimed the body?”
“The insurance company insists on it,” Pai said.
Diana was taken aback. “Excuse me? The policy expired with Oscar’s term!”
“Your husband’s term ends on the date of the coming elections,” Pai said.
“Whatever,” Diana said. “Tell the insurance company to pack it! I identified the body, didn’t I? Oscar’s documents were on the body. I won’t allow anyone to humiliate me. My daughter and I deserve some decency.”
A number of the mourners appeared at the doorway.
“So much for decency and secrecy,” Sanse said.
“Calm down,” Pai said.
“Don’t tell me to calm down! I was married to Oscar for eight years. Eight years! I know him. Period! Do you want to feed on his body? You couldn’t protect him so he got kidnapped. You couldn’t rescue him so he got killed. Instead of finding his killer you’re rubbing salt into our wounds. You should be ashamed of yourselves!”
By now everyone had gathered to witness the commotion.
“The insurer can keep his money,” Diana shouted. “All I want is my husband’s body. I am not asking, I am demanding!”
Pai’s hand was massaging his gun as he led Sanse out.
“She is a handful,” Pai said.
“I can’t agree with you more.”
Chapter 9
“We want Ciuri’s body! We want Ciuri’s body!”
Boko tried to ignore the chant in vain. His train of thoughts got thwarted the moment he heard the chant hence ignoring it was pointless. He stepped out of his office to see thirty or so youths chanting outside the gate. A uniformed officer was trying to contain the youths. Boko approached the officer and talked to him briefly. The officer nodded then shouted, “Who is your leader? Step forward. The rest of you should stay calm.”